My Little Planeswalker: Sideboard Stories

by Zennistrad

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Other, Princess Luna, Random, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 97541

A series of side-stories set in the My Little Planeswalker multiverse.

In a boundless multiverse there are equally many stories to tell. While planeswalkers across time and space compete in epic struggles for their own ideals, the ponies of Equestria have many tales of their own to share.

A series of short stories in the My Little Planeswalker multiverse, set between the events of Twilight’s Spark and Shattered Sunset.

Published 2017-09-19 10:10:07 UTC
Last updated 2022-05-10 06:06:06 UTC

Forest for the Trees

A loud thunk. A shuffling of leaves. A chorus of percussive sounds as the apples fell into the buckets. It was such a routine task at this point that it was almost entirely reflexive. Applejack had done it for most of her life, and it was a way of life that she’d be content with living forever.

Yet today, that way of life was already coming into question. Days ago, news broke out of an infectious fungus that had appeared one day in Ponyville’s farms. Not long afterwards, Sweet Apple Acres had been infested, and by the time Twilight’s magic had been able to clear the disease, it had already been too late. Vast swaths of the orchard had been destroyed, leaving very few trees behind that still bore fruit.

Applejack looked at the buckets by her side. Normally, they’d all be packed to the brim with apples, but now only a scant few were even half-full. The cart that she left behind her held similarly empty buckets, an absolutely pitiful haul compared to the normal harvest season. A pit formed in her stomach as her eyes scanned the rest of the orchard for any more trees that were ready for applebucking. All around, the only ones that remained unharvested were rotted, leafless, and barren.

Yet somehow, Applejack knew she would find a way to provide the necessary crop this season. She had no other choice.

————————

Applejack had regretted missing dinner with her family. It had been well into the evening by the time she’d had headed back into the house, after checking, re-checking, and then re-re-checking every last tree in the orchard to make sure there were no apples she’d missed. She’d ignored Big Macintosh’s concerns, all of Granny Smith’s calls, everything that would distract her from scrounging every last bit of fruit she could possibly find. She was so desperate that she’d almost harvested the apples and pears that were still growing on her parents’ memorial trees, which were thankfully untouched by the fungus. She couldn’t bring herself to do it in the end—some things remained sacred even in the most trying times—but she’d still considered it for what was probably the first time in her life.

That night, Applejack barely received any sleep. She’d stayed for most of the night, at the old family typewriter, trying to work out all of the finances for the past several months. All of the mathematics of running a farm was usually left to Big Mac, but the constant, nagging worry had pushed her to crunch more numbers than she’d ever crunched before. She wasn’t sure what hurt her head more: the intellectual labor, the sleep deprivation, or the conclusion she realized she couldn’t possibly avoid.

When she finally went to bed, her sleep was shallow and dreamless. Somehow, it was even worse than having the nightmares she’d anticipated.

————————

“…We’ll really have to do it, huh?”

“Eeyup.”

“Do you reckon we could get a grant from one of the princesses in time? Before the debt collectors come ‘round here?”

“Ee-nope.”

Applejack let out a deep, heavy sigh. It was all she could do to alleviate the unbearable tension in her chest, and even then, it was useless. She’d hoped that Big Macintosh would be able to offer some reassuring news. That he’d found some source of income she’d missed, some expense she’d miscalculated, but it was clear the moment he’d stepped into the living room that there’d be no such good news. It was there, written right on his face.

The door creaked open, and Granny Smith trotted in, followed by Apple Bloom. Both of them looked vaguely worried, but neither seemed to be entirely aware of just how dire the situation was. Both of them stood soon stood before her, looking at her expectantly. Applejack swallowed a lump in her throat, and stepped forward.

“Y’all might be wondering why Ah called this here family meeting. You see, the truth is…” The words died off as they left her throat. Ponies often assumed that being the Element of Honesty meant Applejack would always be forward with whatever she wanted to say. And with some rare exceptions, that was true. Where they went wrong was assuming that it would always easy.

“It’s about the fungus, ain’t it?” Apple Bloom’s voice was tinged with worry, but only slightly. She didn’t know just how bad it was.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” said Granny Smith. “If there’s something you want to tell us, then tell us!” Her voice also carried only a slight trace anxiety. Decades of experience with similar concerns had given her idea of what was happening, but even then, she didn’t look like she expected what Applejack would say next. Nothing like it had ever happened, before after all.

Either way, her grandmother was right. Applejack couldn’t beat around the bush forever. In a way, it was outright cruel to make them anticipate the news any longer. Applejack took a deep breath, and her entire body went rigid, as though expecting to be struck by lightning.

“…We’re going to have to sell the farm.”

“WHAT!?”

Though Applejack’s words were spoken barely above a whisper, the reaction it provoked was swift and thunderous. It was a sudden shock to both her sister and grandmother, a split-second impact with the force of a volcano. It didn’t matter what words they’d interjected with, their gasps and the looks of utter horror on their faces were painful enough to leave lifelong scars.

“N-no! That can’t be true! It can’t be!” Apple Bloom’s entire body shook alongside her desperate plea. “Please say it ain’t true!”

Applejack shook her head. It took every bit of willpower she had to hold in the tears that were already forming in the corners of her eyes. “You know Ah can’t do that, Apple Bloom. There’s no use trying to deny the unavoidable. We’ve got nothing left after the fungus destroyed our harvest.”

“But there’s got be something else you can do!” Apple Bloom cried out. “Anything at all! Please! Ah… Ah can’t… This is our home…”

A wrinkled green foreleg wrapped itself around Apple Bloom. Granny Smith embraced her as she broke down, sobbing into the elder pony’s chest.

Applejack didn’t know if she hold herself back any longer. Her composure was slowly crumbling apart, like cracks spreading in a river dam. Already the coat beneath her eyes had become damp from crying. “Ah’m sorry. There ain’t nothing else we can do now. The debt collectors are coming soon, and we have to have something for them. There’s too much bureaucracy involved to get a grant payment before then.”

As Applejack spoke, Granny Smith held Apple Bloom tighter, gently rubbing a hoof across her back. Granny Smith lifted her gaze from Apple Bloom as Applejack continued her explanation, her eyes narrowing into a piercing glare.

“How dare you,” she said.

“Granny, please—”

“You listen when Ah’m talking to you!”Granny Smith snapped back. Apple Bloom had already pulled away from her embrace by then, leaving Granny Smith to step forward, every last wrinkle on her face quivering in anger. “How dare you even begin to suggest doing such a thing! This here farm’s been around from the day Ponyville was founded! This ain’t just our family! This ain’t just our way of life! This here is history, and you’re here telling me you’re going to throw it out like it was some rotten apple!?”

“That’s enough.”

To everyone’s astonishment, it was Big Mac who had spoken up. He stepped forward, placing himself between Applejack and Granny Smith, meeting the elder mare’s gaze with intense, determined eyes of his own.

“You know darned well we wouldn’t do this if we had another choice,” said Big Mac. Even a single complete sentence coming from him was enough to get others to notice, but now he had the entire family’s unanimous, undivided attention. “This here farm means just as much to any of us as it does to you. And Ah’m going to be frank with you, Ah think you ought to be ashamed of yourself for suggesting otherwise.”

In most circumstances, Granny Smith would not have tolerated any kind of back-talk, especially not from her grandchildren. But as Big Mac spoke, she didn’t raise any objection. Her ironclad resolve had faded almost entirely by the end, and she quietly backed down, not even bothering to look Big Mac in the eye. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it was clear that Granny Smith knew he was right.

“Listen,” said Applejack. “Ah know it’s scary, thinking about losing everything we have here. Ah know we ain’t used to things being different. But no matter what, Ah promise you that we’ll all be okay. Y’all have mah word on that.”

Applejack stepped forward, and her entire family came together in a circle. Without any second thought, she reached out with her forelegs, and everyone was pulled together in a wide, four-pony hug. In that moment, as she felt the warmth of those she loved, Applejack knew that there was nothing in the world that could bring them apart.

“Wait!” Apple Bloom suddenly spoke up. “Ah have an idea!”

Applejack was startled enough that it broke apart her family’s embrace. As she pulled herself away, she turned to see Apple Bloom with a massive grin. There was something she was excited about, so much so that she was about to jump into the air.

“An idea?” said Applejack.

“Yeah!” said Apple Bloom. “Zap apple harvest season’s coming up, right? It oughta start right around next week! That’ll be more than enough time to harvest before the debt collectors arrive, right?”

“In theory, sure,” said Applejack. “But given all the zap apple trees are done in by the fungus, Ah don’t reckon that’ll make much of a difference.”

“But the ones on the farm ain’t the only zap apple trees, are they?” said Apple Bloom. “Granny, do you remember the story you told when you came to Family Appreciation Day that one time?”

“Of course Ah do!” Granny Smith replied. “Weren’t it for them zap apples in the Everfree Forest, this here farm wouldn’t be standing here today!”

The entire room went quiet. Applejack shared a look with Big Mac. With just one glance, it felt as though she’d carried out an entire conversation. She turned over to Granny Smith, and though it had taken a moment, she could see comprehension dawning on her.

“Well?” said Applejack. “Do you reckon it’s worth a shot?”

Big Mac gave a smile. “Eeyup,” he said.

————————

“Now Granny, are you sure you don’t remember where you saw them zap apple trees?”

“Sorry, Applejack. Even if Ah did remember the exact details, there’s no telling if them trees are even in the same place.”

“Well, that’s mighty encouraging, ain’t it?”

Applejack let out a sigh. She stood by the edge of the farm, just outside of the edge of the Everfree Forest. A pair of saddlebags slung over her back, carrying several lassos and essential survival gear, but with most of the space left empty to carry the zap apple seeds. Her family had come to see her off as she headed into the forest in hopes of finding the seeds that would save the farm.

“A—”

“Nope, don’t say anything, Big Mac,” Applejack preemptively countered. “The Everfree’s dangerous, and Ah’m not leaving without someone staying behind who can take care of Granny and Apple Bloom.”

Apple Bloom’s ears folded against her head. “...Are you saying you might not come back?”

“Well, Ah’d say there ain’t no chance of anything bad happening to me,” said Applejack, “but it never hurts to be prepared for the worst.”

“Oh,” said Apple Bloom. “Makes sense, Ah guess.” She didn’t look particularly reassured.

Granny Smith placed a gently hoof on Apple Bloom’s shoulder. “Now, don’t you worry there, young’un. Your sister’s tougher than nails. Ah’m sure she’ll be finer than a cask full of cider!”

“Yeah, Ah guess you’re right,” said Apple Bloom. The lines of worry on her face had already been ironed out. “Be careful out there, Applejack!”

“Don’t you worry about it, Apple Bloom!” Applejack called back. “Ah’ll be back before you know it!”

As she made her way into the Everfree, Applejack gave one last look at her family, waving them goodbye.

————————

The Everfree wasn’t usually too hard to navigate, provided you stayed on the dirt trails that crossed the forest. Unfortunately, Applejack also happened to be going quite far off the beaten path, so to speak. Her wanderings had led her across the uncharted depths of the woods, for a length of time she couldn’t even begin to identify. The Everfree Forest was always dark, dark enough that it was almost impossible to see what time of day it really was.

After what had to have been hours, Applejack’s journey had quite literally proven fruitless. Apart from a brief encounter with a chimera, she was lucky enough to have avoided attracting the attention of some of the forest’s nastier predators. A creeping sensation that gradually ran up her spine gave her the feeling that luck wouldn’t last forever.

Sure enough, as she made her way through yet another thick covering of trees and underbrush, a rumbling beneath the earth proved that she wasn’t alone. The rumbling intensified, so much so that the ground itself began to shake with a force of an earthquake. Reacting purely on instinct, Applejack immediately jumped backward, leaping aside from the spot she was standing on.

With a bestial roar, the earth where she stood exploded outwards. A massive green wurm with leathery skin and a circular row of serrated teeth erupted to the surface. The upper portion of its body reared into the air, standing more than fifteen feet tall, poised to strike and swallow Applejack in a single motion. Applejack could do nothing but close her eyes, flinching as she prepared to meet her untimely end.

But the end, to her surprise, didn’t come. Instead she heard a very loud whump and the sound of crunching bone. She opened her eyes, and what she saw was the last thing she expected to see.

Standing just before her was a very large, muscular earth pony stallion. His coat was a dark, grayish green, and his cutie mark a three-toed pawprint of an unidentified beast. His mane and tail were wild, unkempt, and packed with dirt, matching the rough and scraggly beard growing from his chin. A large axe was strapped to his back, designed in such a way that it was clearly not meant for cutting trees, and the top half of his face was concealed with a metal helmet. Most strangely of all, however, was the octahedral stone that was embedded in the front of his chest, engraved with glowing blue runes that pulsed in sync with the veins surrounding the wound it was lodged in. As he stood, an aura of green magic surrounded both him and the wurm. As the aura surrounded the wurm, its body dissipated into wisps of green smoke, surrounding the stallion before dissipating.

The Hunter turned to face Applejack. It was difficult to read him with the mask, but there was something distinctly menacing about the way he looked at her. “Are you alright?”

“Ah think so,” said Applejack. “That was nice going, wrangling that wurm like that.”

“You should go,” said the Hunter. “It’s not safe here.”

Applejack stared at the Hunter quizzically. There was definitely something strange about the Hunter that she couldn’t quite place, something to do with the hedron implanted in him. “Ah think Ah know what Ah’m getting into. But that begs the question, just what in tarnation is a pony like you doing all the way out here?”

A snort escaped the Hunter’s nostrils. “Words lie. People lie. The land tells the truth. This land is wild, and I could hear it calling to me.” A subtle glint appeared in his eye as he spoke. It was a look that Applejack had only ever seen in the eyes of a predator, yet there was also something softer hidden within it. “I meant it when I said you should go. You’ll find that I’m not very nice.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “But you did save mah life, didn’t you?”

“I don’t care about your life,” said the Hunter. “I’m here for the hunt. No more, no less. You simply happened to be there.”

“Horseapples.”

The Hunter’s eyes widened beneath his helmet. “Excuse me?”

“Horseapples, Ah said. If you really don’t care nothing about mah life, you wouldn’t have come right when Ah was about to be eaten alive.”

The Hunter glared dangerously. His muscles tensed briefly, only to relax. “You’re a liar,” he grunted.

Applejack’s eye twitched involuntarily. “Ah beg your pardon?”

“Either you’re too dumb to recognize me for what I am, or you’re a liar,” the Hunter replied. “And you don’t look dumb to me. If there’s one thing I can count on people to do, it’s lie.”

The Hunter turned to walk away, but was immediately cut off. Applejack rapidly maneuvered herself to face him, glaring intensely right into the Hunter’s eyes. Despite his imposing stature and deadly weapon, Applejack remained resolute.

“Now you listen here, mister! Ah can tolerate a lot of things, but for you to so much as insinuate that Ah’m a liar...” She couldn’t even be bothered to complete her sentence. Anger boiled within her chest, stifling any further attempts to articulate herself.

“It’s not wise to antagonize a monster.” The Hunter’s muzzle split open into a grin, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. “Especially not one that hunts other monsters for fun.”

Applejack stepped back, a chill running down her spine at the sight. She could almost believe the Hunter’s claim that he was a monster. And yet, there was something else about him that didn’t add up.

“Well if you’re such a monster, how come you asked me if Ah was okay?”

The Hunter froze. His grin vanished, as though the question had pierced straight through his menacing exterior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“’Course you do,” said Applejack. “You say you’re a monster, but there ain’t no monster Ah’ve ever heard of that goes around asking other ponies if they’re okay. If you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t’ve been worried about that, would you?”

The Hunter paused. A multitude of subtle emotions ran across his face, and in the silence Applejack could hear the gentle thrumming of the hedron in his chest. She was sure now there was a powerful magic within it, but exactly what it was she couldn’t tell.

Finally, the Hunter once again turned to leave. “It’ll be dark soon. You should leave the forest. The most dangerous predators here are nocturnal.”

Applejack looked towards the sky. Though it was next to impossible to see the sun through the canopy, she could tell that the light filtering through the branches had diminished. “Probably a good idea,” she said. “You take care, now.”

“You too,” said the Hunter.

The two turned and went their separate ways. As she left, Applejack had the strange feeling that she’d done something good, but she couldn’t rightly tell what it was.

————————

It was already well into the evening by the time Applejack had returned to Sweet Apple Acres. Her family was waiting for her in front of the farmhouse, anxiety plainly written on all of them. They could no doubt already see that her saddlebags were far too light to be carrying what they needed.

“Well? How’d it go?” Apple Bloom’s voice had a twinge of hopefulness, but on some level it felt like she already knew the answer.

Applejack’s eyes drifted toward the ground. “Ah’m sorry, everypony. Ah tried to find the zap apples, Ah really did.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at her loved ones. Seeing them hurt by the news was almost too much to think about.

Then, before any of them could respond, a low rumbling noise came from below, followed by the ground itself beginning to shake.

“Applejack! W-what’s happening?” Apple Bloom cried out.

“Get in the house!” Applejack called back. “Now!”

The matter didn’t take any further prompting. Big Macintosh quickly grabbed both Apple Bloom and Granny Smith, carrying them both on his back as he rushed indoors. The rumbling intensified, and Applejack steeled her nerves for the inevitable. There wasn’t any uncertainty left in her mind: she’d protect her family even if it cost her own life.

A terrible cry emerged as the same wurm that had threatened her before drilled through the earth, erupting through the ground with explosive force. Applejack flinched slightly at the sudden spray of dirt, but her hooves remained glued to the soil, remaining steadfast as her eyes met the wurm’s. She didn’t know how to fight something that could easily tunnel beneath her, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.

She tensed her body, preparing for the wurm to make the first strike, but much to her astonishment, the attack never came. Instead, the wurm leaned over, a disgusting retching sound coming from its throat. Then, in discharge of slimy bodily fluids, it regurgitated a massive volume of seeds, spewing them into a hill before Applejack that was easily five times as tall as her and ten times as wide. The wurm then rapidly descended back into the soil, leaving Applejack to stare transfixed at the massive pile of seeds. The crackling sparks that crawled between them made it immediately clear what kind of seeds they were.

“Sweet mother of Celestia... Ah’ve never seen so many of them!”

“You’re welcome.” A voice called from behind the mountain of zap apple seeds. Applejack looking to see the Hunter turning around its corner. The perpetually grim look on his face was gone, replaced with something that might almost look like a friendly smile if you squinted hard enough.

“Ah... Ah don’t believe it. Did you do all of this for us? How’d you even manage to find so many?”

“As I said before, the land speaks the truth,” the Hunter replied. “It’s all I could do to thank you. You helped me realize something about myself. That maybe I’m not as much a monster as I thought.”

Applejack felt a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Her entire body felt so light that she was practically giddy. “Ah... Ah can’t thank you enough for this. If there’s anything Ah can do for you—”

“Don’t,” the Hunter curtly replied. “I may not be as monstrous as I thought I was, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a monster. This world is peaceful. Too peaceful. If I stay, I’ll only end up hurting someone. Possibly someone you care about.”

“So that’s it then?” said Applejack. A part of her was disappointed, but she figured it wasn’t her place to argue. “You’re just going to leave, just like that? Can Ah at least get your name before you go?”

“It’s Garruk. Garruk Wildspeaker.”

Applejack tipped her hat gently, a universal gesture of respect. “Pleased to meet you, Garruk. Name’s Applejack. If you ever change your mind, you can come right over here to Sweet Apple Acres whenever you like. Ah reckon you’ll always be welcome here.”

“Don’t count on it,” said Garruk. “But you have my thanks.”

Green wisps of magic surrounded Garruk’s body, enveloping him completely in a smoke-like cloud. When it disappeared, Garruk was gone.

There was a slow creak as the door to the house opened, and Applejack turned to see Granny Smith stepping outside. “What’s all the ruckus out there? Did you take care of that varmint—Sweet merciful heavens! Are those zap apple seeds!?”

Applejack smiled warmly. “Eyup,” she said. “We’d better find a silo to store these in. Ah reckon we’ll have a lot of work to do in the morning.”

————————

Applejack, Orchard Tender 4GG

Legendary Creature — Horse

Applejack, Orchard Tender can't be countered.

Players can cast nongreen spells only during their own turns.

”Here on Sweet Apple Acres, we do things simple.”

5/5

Author's Note

I’d had this chapter mostly completed for about two weeks, but I wanted to finish Twilight’s Spark before I posted it, and also had the two-part Shadows Over Equestria side-story to complete. When this chapter is uploaded, it’ll be placed before some the other Sideboard Stories chapters I’ve already uploaded.

I’ve heard some argue that Applejack is best represented as green/white, but I’d have to disagree with that for one reason. Namely, that Applejack is the only one of the Mane 6 to completely lack any long-term goals or ambitions beyond living the life she’s always lived (even Fluttershy has her dream of starting an animal sanctuary). She has close friends, a loving family, and an orchard, and that’s all she could ever want. In addition, she’s also remarkably stubborn and slow to accept change, to the point where one of her most famous lines in the show is her proudly proclaiming that she didn’t learn anything.

This is a quintessentially mono-green outlook on life, as green is the color of accepting the world as it is where the other colors try to change it to suit their whims. While agriculture is typically portrayed as white do to its essential role in sustaining community well-being, agricultural lifestyles can also be green-aligned if they’re strongly rooted in traditionalism above all else. This can be seen in the green-aligned farming villages in the Kessig region of Innistrad, which suffer from an even more serious case of medieval stasis than the rest of the plane.

Applejack’s abilities are essentially an upgraded version of Dosan the Falling Leaf, a powerful card that prevents counterspells and other dirty and/or sneaky tricks. Applejack isn’t any stranger to being cunning herself, though, so she’ll let you use your instants as long as they’re honest about what they’re trying to do (i.e. green.)

Garruk’s cutie mark, for those wondering, is the symbol used for the trample keyword in Duels of the Planeswalkers:

Friend Like Discord

No sooner had Twilight planeswalked to her new destination than she had been assaulted by an intense dry heat. It was a blind jump, one she was reluctant taking given her past experiences, but in the end she knew she couldn’t learn all she wanted to know about the planes just by reading about them. She was more than willing to brave the unknown for the sake of further study, and now that she knew exactly how to return to Equestria at any moment, the risks involved would be minimal.

All around her, Twilight could see nothing but an endless expanse of arid sand, the very air itself seeming to shimmer and wobble in the sweltering heat. She could feel the individual grains becoming wedged in her hooves, her saddlebags feeling uncomfortably damp with sweat as they pressed against her sides. She almost felt like shaving her entire body bare if it meant being spared at least some of the scorching temperatures.

“Ugh! Why’d I have to end up in the middle of a desert?” Twilight lamented out loud. At the very least, she hadn’t ended up in the center of an active volcano. That was an experience she didn’t care to repeat.

Still, if she wanted to learn anything, she had to put in at least some effort to explore. Closing her eyes, she pointed her horn towards the sun and sent out a tentative scanning pulse. The pulse bounced off the sun and landed somewhere else in the plane, transmitting a map of the area into her mind. To Twilight’s lack of surprise, it only showed more desert. She sent out another pulse, this time at a slightly different angle, and the pulse landed again in a different location, though once again it only showed another expanse of desert. Another pulse, yet another, and yet more after that, and they all returned the same result.

Finally, after a number of attempts she hadn’t bothered counting but felt like more than a hundred, Twilight saw something. It was an area that appeared at first to be another expanse of desert, but then something else made itself clear on the edges of her mental map. It was a large city, wedged between a massive lake to the south and an ocean to the north, with stone walls and a gigantic single lighthouse standing tall above the other buildings.

“Well, here goes nothing,” said Twilight, before teleporting away.

———————

Twilight was eventually brought to the outskirts of the city, where she could already see the bustle of activity as people made their way through the streets, some riding on horses or camels, but many simply walking. She noticed that their skin tones were darker on average than on most other planes; she figured it had something to do with the amount of sunlight the desert climate received.

Her horn glowed, and her body shimmered and twisted as it vanished into nothing, hidden by the invisibility spell she’d placed over herself. She’d found the spell to be a useful way of exploring a plane without drawing attention to herself, at least before she could come up with a convincing enough disguise. With a beat of her wings, she lifted herself up into the air and took towards the city.

Flying above the main roadways, she couldn’t help but notice that the environment felt a lot cooler. While still much hotter than her home, it was no longer unbearably so, and it no longer felt as dry. Being wedged between a lake and an ocean had no doubt cooled the city’s climate considerably; all things considered, they really couldn’t have built a lasting settlement in a desert land without putting it next to a body of water.

Taking in as much visual information as she could about the people bustling around her, she quietly ducked her way into a vacant alley, and dismissed the invisibility spell. Her horn went alight once more, and her body was wrapped in an illusion that made her appear as a human with brown skin. It was such a convincing illusion that it fooled even her own perceptions, making her truly feel like she was standing on two feet, with a bipedal stature, with a body much taller than she was as a pony. It was a vast step up from the illusion spell that she had used during her first visit to Ravnica, and there wasn’t a single plane she’d traveled to where she didn’t make use of it in some capacity.

It was a shame she still couldn’t figure out how to change the school clothes, though. Her best guess was that she just couldn’t properly imagine what an alternative set of clothes would look like; she certainly didn’t have the designer’s mind that Rarity did. The only part of her outfit that looked different was the deep purple backpack that her illusory body carried across its shoulders, and she could only really create the image with her similarly-colored saddlebags as a reference.

Journeying out into the streets once more, she took in the sights of the city, observing the scene around her. The buildings were crafted from sand-colored stone, and palm trees were planted intermittently between the constructions. The people around Twilight all moved with the swift pace that she had grown to expect from large cities, though she noticed that she was given a few strange looks, her illusory body’s clothing clearly not matching the desert garb that the native people wore.

Her wandering eventually brought her to a bazaar, with a vast number of colorful tents and booths lining the streets, set up by merchants seeking to sell their wares to the many patrons that gathered before them. Twilight aimlessly shuffled, drinking in the sights and sounds, and absorbing the unfamiliar smells. Though there was a subtle stench of meat that turned her stomach thinking about, it was far outweighed by the aroma of fruits, incenses, and spices.

Her attention was eventually drawn to a merchant’s booth that had a variety of artifacts laid out on display. While the goods themselves appeared unremarkable, there was a subtle aura of magic about them that Twilight could feel tingling in her spine. As she approached, a single customer in front of her was engaging in a heated exchange with the merchant, before walking away. With no other customers left in front of her, Twilight quickly applied a translation spell and came face-to-face with the merchant, a small mustachioed man with a brown vest and a white turban.

“Welcome, traveler!” he greeted cheerfully. “You’re not from around here, I take it?”

Twilight blushed, and glanced down at her illusory clothing. “That obvious, huh?”

The merchant chuckled. “Hey, don’t worry about it! Come, take a look. I have the finest magic items in all of Rabiah right here!”

So this place is called Rabiah. Good to know, thought Twilight. She leaned in and examined the items strewn about the merchant’s booth more closely, a variety of knick-knacks and antiques whose purposes she couldn’t quite discern. Her eyes finally settled on what looked to be a brass oil lamp with a long nozzle.

The merchant immediately took notice of this and grinned. “Ah, you have a discerning eye, my friend!” he said, holding up the lamp to display it. “This right here is a true rarity: a real, functioning magic lamp!”

Twilight stared at the merchant incredulously. “A magic lamp? You don’t mean the kind with a djinn in it, do you?”

The merchant’s eyes went wide. “A djinn!? Oh, no, no, no! The king would have my head for that! What this is, is the most durable light source you will ever own! Just give it a rub, like so...” He held the lamp and rubbed its body in demonstration. Almost immediately, a bright blue flame erupted from the tip of the nozzle, radiating an intense magic aura. “Behold! A heatless flame that will never be extinguished! Perfect for long nights of reading!” The merchant rubbed the lamp again, causing the flame to disappear, before setting it back on the table. “So, what do you say?”

“I’ll take it!” Twilight exclaimed, having been sold the moment the merchant had said ‘reading.’ With an ear-splitting grin, she reached into her saddlebags and placed a large pile of bits onto the counter, a motion that was mimicked by her illusory body reaching into her backpack and doing the same.

The merchant peered at the coins warily, picking one up and examining it through squinted eyes. “You must truly be from very far away, my friend. I’ve never seen any currency like this before.”

Twilight’s body suddenly seized up. “Eep! I mean, um, uh... is that a problem?”

“Oh, not at all! Gold is gold, after all,” the merchant reassured. He bit into the coin, leaving a bite mark on it, before reaching out to shake hands. “You have yourself a deal!”

Twilight’s false body returned the gesture, grabbing the merchant’s hand and shaking vigorously. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Still giddy from the excitement of having an everlasting reading lamp, she stuffed the artifact into her bag and happily walked away.

As she retreated from the bazaar, a sudden realization began to crawl onto the edges of her thoughts. When she finally became fully aware of it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Ack! That was all the money I brought with me! I was supposed to haggle!”

———————

After mentally kicking herself for her moment of impulsiveness, Twilight was soon able to find out more information about the city with little effort. Despite the number of odd looks she received, its denizens were more than willing to tell her what she wanted to know: the city was called Alexandria, and it was widely considered to be one of the largest centers of scholarship, art, and culture on the plane of Rabiah.

Which, of course, brought her to the Library of Alexandria. Twilight had visited many different libraries during her travels in the multiverse, and seeing what knowledge the planes had to offer never ceased to excite her. Seeing what centers of study had been built was her favorite part of visiting any new plane.

The Library of Alexandria, the largest known library on Rabiah, was no exception. It was less extravagantly designed than some of the libraries that she’d seen Ravnica, and less wondrous or exotic than the Sylvan Library of Shandalar, but it was still an impressive work of architecture nonetheless. A large staircase led up to a square structure with four castle-like walls of alabaster and four turrets on the corners. It was a building far less ornate than the castles of Equestria and more like a fortress, though the four windows on the front made it unlikely to truly withstand a siege. Each of the turrets was tipped with a brass dome shaped like an elongated onion, and an extremely wide central tower in the center of the library stood tall above them all, tipped with a wider onion-shaped dome of its own as well. The two front doors were carved from wood, swinging open and shut as people made their way in and out of the building.

The interior of the library was structured much more like a university campus than a single library. Exploring the inner rooms, Twilight found classrooms where lectures were given to listening students, a room fitted with tables for shared dining, meeting rooms, and even a small courtyard near the back containing a botanical garden. Eventually, she found the central collection, a hall with numerous study tables placed between alabaster columns. Shelves lined the walls, each of which contained a collection of scrolls. Through her translation spell, Twilight could read an inscription carved above each of the shelves: ‘The place of the cure of the soul.’

Though she initially found herself put off by the lack of modern book bindings, Twilight had soon become engrossed within her studies, sitting down at one of the tables and voraciously reading through as many scrolls as she could carry. Much of the work that was written on magical theory was information she had already learned elsewhere, but things became truly fascinating when she started reading written accounts of myth and legend. She had read many apocryphal tales of the Thousandfold Refraction, an unknown event that split the plane of Rabiah into a thousand-and-one different parallel planes, each being recognizably Rabiah, yet no two of them being exactly alike.

A sudden epiphany drew Twilight out of her study. She wasn’t in the plane of Rabiah right now. She was in a Rabiah. Arabia. Like Saddle Arabia.

The pained groan that Twilight made at the pun was so loud that it earned her angry glares from everyone else in the vicinity.

———————

Twilight’s study eventually lasted well into the afternoon. The amount of concrete information she could find on the Thousandfold Refraction was frustratingly scarce, and eventually she’d given up on it entirely.

Seeking more tangible information, she soon turned to history. There was more of it to be covered than she could have hoped to read in a single day, but the most fascinating part of history she’d learned about was the effort made by King Suleiman to wipe out all djinns and efreets from the plane. It was no wonder the merchant that sold her the magic lamp had insisted there was no djinn hiding inside of it.

At the thought of the magic lamp, Twilight realized that the library’s natural light had already begun to fade, making the words on the scrolls more difficult to read even with the aid of her translation magic. It was probably already almost sunset outside, which seemed like as good a time as any to put her new light source to the test.

Reaching into her bag, she placed the lamp on the tabletop and gave it a rub. What came out was so loud and startling that it nearly caused her to topple out of her chair.

“POWER! UNLIMITED COSMIC POWER!” The booming, very familiar voice shouted, as a wisp of smoke poured from the lamp’s nozzle. The other library patrons scattered and ran away in all directions, their faces frozen into perfect portraits of fear.

The smoke soon coalesced into a solid shape: a grey, goat-like face with a striking assortment of different animal parts for a body. On his head was a white turban with a blue feather sticking out on top, and the lower half of his body was a wisp of smoke that extended out from the lamp.

“Thank you for freeing me from my prison, mortal!” said Discord. “In exchange for releasing me, I will grant you three wishes!”

“Discord!” Twilight shot back in a stage whisper. “What in Celestia’s name are you doing here!?”

“Well, aren’t we ungrateful today?” Discord scoffed. “I don’t think you quite understand what I’m offering you, Twilight. Why don’t you sit back, while I show you the possibilities?”

With a grin, the library vanished in a flash of light, and Twilight found herself standing in the middle of an endless black expanse, with a single spotlight shining on her from above. A group of nasty-looking desert bandits surrounded her on all sides, grimacing and brandishing their swords. Before she could try to defend herself, Discord’s voice echoed out in song, accompanied by instrumental backing.

“Well, Ali Baba had them Forty Thieves—”

“No! No Songs!” Twilight shouted back. The music stopped with the scratch of a record needle. There was another flash of light, Twilight found herself sitting back where she was before, with nobody else in sight besides Discord.

Discord crossed his arms and frowned. “Well, aren’t you being a party pooper today? Your first wish should be to have that stick up your behind removed.”

“Enough,” Twilight hissed. “Why. Are. You. Here?”

“Ah, ah, ah! If you want me to answer your questions, you’ll have to wish for them,” Discord said with a grin. “Sorry, but those are the rules.”

Twilight facepalmed. “Okay, fine. I wish you would tell me why you’re here. Happy?”

“Yes, very,” said Discord. “I’m here because I followed you here. Now, what is your second wish?”

“What?” said Twilight. “Oh come on! You know that isn’t what I meant!”

Discord gleefully held up a finger. “First rule of wishing, Twilight: be careful what you wish for. Now, are going to word your second wish a bit more carefully?”

Twilight closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, and counted to ten in her head. It was a stress management technique she’d learned a while ago, and it had served her particularly well when dealing with Discord. Exhaling loudly, she turned her head up and looked Discord in the eye.

“Alright,” said Twilight. “I wish you’d tell me how you got here. Do you expect me to believe that you’re a planeswalker, too?”

“Hmm... technically two questions,” said Discord, rubbing his chin, “but I’ll be generous and answer them both. Unlike you and your fleshy compatriots, I don’t need a so-called spark haphazardly wedged into my soul, and that’s not just because I don’t have either of those things.”

Twilight blinked. “Wait, you don’t have a soul?”

“Irrelevant!” said Discord. “The point is, the only reason you can travel between planes is that you have something separate from yourself that grants you that ability, something you acquired in a stroke of blind luck. For yours truly, traveling between planes is a part and parcel of who I am.”

Twilight paused. In a way it did make sense that a being like Discord wouldn’t be bound to one plane, but she couldn’t rightly understand why, at least not at first thought. “I’m not sure how being the Spirit of Chaos necessarily grants you that ability, but alright.”

Discord chuckled. “Oh, Twilight, you really haven’t figured it out? I’d have thought someone as clever as you would have realized by now. ‘Spirit of Chaos’ is just a title that I’d given to myself. What I really am is something more subtle than that. Shocking, I know. Subtlety was never my strong point.”

Now Twilight’s curiosity had begun to overtake her, pushing any of the initial anger she’d felt out of her mind. Despite how long she’d been on more-or-less friendly terms with Discord, she’d never really given any thought to exactly how he worked. “So what are you, then?”

“You know the rules Twilight, I can’t answer a question unless you wish for it,” said Discord. “Then again, I never much liked rules, so I’ll answer anyway. I,” he said, elaborately gesturing to himself, “am a manifestation of the chaotic energies of the Blind Eternities, transformed by planar reality into a more worldly form of chaos.”

Twilight’s looked at Discord with a gleam of understanding in her eye. “The Blind Eternities? You mean... Of course, that would explain everything! You can travel between planes because you’re made of interplanar energy!”

“Now you’re getting it!” said Discord. “You seem happy to have learned something today. And of course, I’m happy to have helped a friend.”

Twilight shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Um... thanks? I think?”

Discord opened his mouth to respond with what Twilight could only assume was a ‘you’re welcome’ when a sudden voice interrupted them both.

“Halt!”

Suddenly, there was a storm of rushing footsteps in the halls. Soldiers dressed in heavy robes and steel armor poured into the corridor, each brandishing a long polearm and carrying a curved scabbard at their side. Soon, both Twilight and Discord were surrounded on all sides by hostile forces.

“Wait!” said Twilight. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Silence!” one of the soldiers shot back. “For summoning a djinn, the penalty is death!”

“Discord!” Twilight cried out. “Do something!”

“You still have one wish left,” Discord replied. “I suggest you make it quickly.”

As the soldiers began closing in, Twilight’s mind and body became snared in the icy grip of panic. Without even thinking, she immediately went for the first escape option she could think of.

“I wish we were back in Equestria!”

“Done!” said Discord. There was a sound of snapping fingers, and then everything vanished in a flash.

In the very next moment, Twilight had found herself standing in the throne room of her castle, her illusory body having vanished, with Discord and the magic lamp sitting on the floor at her side. In front of them both, on the crystal table where the Cutie Map was holographically projected, was Starlight Glimmer, lying down on her back. Straight above her, Trixie stood on her hooves with half-lidded eyes, leaning down with her face nearly touching Starlight’s.

“What the hay!?” Trixie exclaimed, startled by the bright light of Twilight’s sudden appearance. She reared back onto her hind legs, and then promptly toppled over backwards, falling off the table in a crash.

“Well, that was fun!” said Discord. “It’s a good thing you made your last wish when you did, am I right?”

“Never do that again!” said Twilight.

“You’re welcome!” Discord replied. With another flash of light, he vanished, leaving the magic lamp wobbling as it lay empty on the ground.

Twilight let out a heavy sigh, and then turned towards the Cutie Map. Trixie, now standing upright beside it, was gritting her teeth and glaring daggers at her. Starlight, meanwhile, remained lying on the table, trying to hide her furiously blushing face beneath her hooves.

A similar blush crossed Twilight’s own muzzle as the sudden realization hit her. “Oh, um... Right. I’ll, uh, just pretend I didn’t see that. Sorry!”

Feeling like she’d die of embarrassment, Twilight hastily ducked out of the throne room. One of these days she’d have to talk to Starlight Glimmer about what public rooms were supposed to be used for.

———————

Discord, Spirit of Chaos 3RRR

Legendary Creature — Chimera Avatar

Flying

At the beginning of your upkeep, each player exiles a permanent he or she controls at random. Each player then reveals cards from the top of his or her library until he or she reveals a permanent card, puts that card onto the battlefield, then puts all other cards revealed this way on the bottom of his or her library in a random order.

6/4

Author's Note

This was a fun chapter to write, as any chapter involving Discord usually is. I'd been giving some thought as to what Discord is exactly and how it would fit into MtG canon, and this was the answer that I felt was most satisfying. Planeswalkers, while the most common type of being able to travel between planes, aren't the only type. There are also the Eldrazi, but aside from them there exist other beings capable of interplanar travel, the most notable being the monstrous demigod Merit Lage.

Rabiah, of course, is the plane from the Arabian Nights expansion, originally set in the legends and folktales of Earth's 1001 Arabian Nights, but later retconned to fit into the MtG multiverse. The library that Twilight goes to is none other than the Library of Alexandria, which roughly-but-not-quite-exactly parallels the real-life Library of Alexandria in ancient Egypt. The King Suleiman mentioned here is also a fictional counterpart rather than the real Suleiman.

Lastly, there's the song, which... well, you probably know what it is already. Good thing Twilight cut Discord off before he could get me into trouble with the site's rules on song lyrics, eh? :trollestia:

Atog on a Log

Fluttershy never liked traveling into the Everfree Forest.

Oh, sure, she’d survived going there plenty of times, and she’d even managed to acquaint herself with some of the native wildlife. But no matter how many times she ventured into the woods, it never ceased to be deeply unnerving. It wasn’t just the fact that it always seemed dark even in broad daylight. It wasn’t just the fact that the trees themselves seemed to glare at her with malevolent intent. It wasn’t even the fact that there were so many dangerous predators that would eat her for lunch.

No, it was the fact that everything, from the animals to the weather to the land itself, operated completely beyond the reach of ponykind’s influence. She’d always thought of the Everfree as unnatural, but if Nissa was to be believed it was exactly the opposite: it was the only part of Equestria that was natural by the standards of any other plane. A place where nature needed no help to take care of itself, just as it needed no caretakers on any other world.

Somehow, that knowledge had only made the Everfree even more unsettling. Out of all the places Zecora could have lived, why did it have to be here?

Thankfully, she managed to reach Zecora’s hut without incident. While she knew there wouldn’t be an incident as long as she stayed on the path, but there was always a chance that things could go wrong. It didn’t help that her overactive imagination kept showing her every single possible way they could, and every single way she could die horribly as a result.

As she approached the hut, she did her best to put those thoughts out of her mind, her wings fidgeting with the straps on her saddlebags in an attempt to find an outlet for her nervous energy. She raised her hoof and gently tapped at the door, sounding out a trio of soft knocks. The door creaked open, and Zecora stepped forward to greet her.

“Ah!” said Zecora. “Fluttershy, with yellow coat, what brings you somewhere so remote?”

“I was wondering if you could help me,” said Fluttershy. “Angel scraped his knee earlier today. Do you have any medicine that could help? He’s much too fussy to go to the veterinarian, I’m afraid.”

Zecora gave a smile. “That I do, my dearest friend. A simple remedy, and the pain will end. Come inside, and you will see. Consider it a gift to you, from me.”

Fluttershy giggled inwardly. It was always a wonder how Zecora managed to come up with a rhyme on the spot for every situation. Come to think of it, that would probably explain why she didn’t like being around Applejack or Scootaloo that much.

As Zecora beckoned Fluttershy inside, she approached one of the many shelves lining the hut, packed to the brim with an assortment of herbs, potions, and bottles. She climbed up a ladder leaning against a shelf and took out a single glass bottle, inside of which was an unidentified mix of herbs, ground into fine leaflets. Carrying the bottle in her hoof, she carefully descended, and passed it to Fluttershy.

“Apply this to the wound with a cloth of cotton, and your pet will find his pain forgotten. These herbs are quite the fine selection, enough to stave off any infection.”

Fluttershy grabbed the bottle and gently placed it in her saddlebags. “Thank you, Zecora. I’m sure Angel will really appreciate this.”

“Whatever you may need, I can always give some. Return whenever you wish, for you are always welcome.”

Fluttershy waved Zecora off as she exited the hut, happily humming a simple tune to herself. She’d already forgotten the perils of the Everfree as she followed the path back home. More than anything, she was just glad to have seen her friend.

The happy thoughts didn’t last the rest of the journey. Halfway back to the edge of the forest, and she saw something that immediately made her stop in her tracks. There, lying on its back on a mossy log, was a creature unlike anything she’d ever seen.

It looked to be a biped, based on its body shape, thin and wiry-looking, like some sort of tree goblin. Its skin was a bright purple color, and covered in bulging veins that ran across its entire length. Its eyes were a pair of bright orange things that were devoid of any visible pupils, and lining its open mouth was a row of dozens of sharp teeth.

But most worryingly of all was the deep, bloody gash across its chest. The creature appeared to be only semi-conscious, and its breaths were weak and shallow.

“Oh my goodness!” Fluttershy squeaked. “You poor thing! Here, hold still!”

The creature let out a small whine of protest as Fluttershy lifted it onto her back. It was barely any larger than Spike, yet it was surprisingly heavy.

“Don’t you worry,” said Fluttershy, “I’ll have you feeling better before you know it.”

————————

Bringing a creature from the Everfree Forest directly into her cottage had earned Fluttershy a very disapproving glare from Angel, who had undoubtedly expected himself to be the undivided center of attention. He sometimes seemed to have trouble accepting that Fluttershy had other animals under her care.

Thankfully, cleaning the wound on his knee and applying Zecora’s herbs had been a simple task. Angel winced at the pain, but he seemed to trust Fluttershy’s treatment, and Fluttershy trusted Zecora’s medicine. When she was finished rubbing the herbs against the scrape, it had already miraculously healed. There had to have been a magic to the medicine that made it more than just a simple combination of plants, but Fluttershy figured it wasn’t her place to start prying about Zecora’s secrets.

That left her with the creature to deal with. She’d left it on the couch, its wound wrapped in a simple cloth to stem the bleeding. It babbled weakly as it pulled the cloth and gnawed on it gently.

Fluttershy giggled. “You silly thing, that isn’t food! Here, let me help you.” She gently removed the cloth, disposing of it in a nearby trash can, before pulling out another cloth from her saddlebag. Her wings beat gently to maintain her upright stance as she lifted herself onto her hind legs, holding a cloth in one hoof and the bottle of Zecora’s medicine in the other. Fluttershy poured the herbs on the cloth, then placed the bottle back into her bag as she began gently rubbing the cloth against the wound.

The creature let out a small whimper, the medicine no doubt leaving a stinging sensation. Before long, however, the wound began to close. Within only a few seconds, all that was left of the wound was a simple bruise.

“Feeling better?” said Fluttershy.

The creature blinked wearily, and crawled off the couch to its feet. It looked up at Fluttershy with curious eyes, and began tugging at the cloth slightly.

“What’s that? Do you want this?” said Fluttershy. Her eyes turned towards the now-bloodied cloth. “I’m honestly not sure why, but you can have it.” She held out her leg, holding the cloth right in front of the creature.

Then, to her utter surprise, the creature swiftly seized the cloth from her hoof and ate it. Not just ate it, but devoured it. One second it was there, and then the next it had disappeared into the creature’s toothy maw.

“Oh!” Fluttershy exclaimed. “Oh, well, um... That’s okay. I was going to throw that out, anyway.”

The creature didn’t seem to be interested in listening. Instead, it walked over to the couch, grabbed its side with its claws, and then took a giant bite out of its side. The stuffing and springs spilled out as the creature hungrily devoured the furniture, massive bite by massive bite. Fluttershy could only stare transfixed at the scene. Before she knew it, the entire couch was gone.

“O-okay, that’s fine!” said Fluttershy. “A-as long as you’re not hungry anymore...”

But the creature didn’t stop with the couch. It crawled onto the side table, grabbed the lamp, and then shoved it into its mouth, devouring it with a single motion. The table was the next to go, being reduced to a few wooden splinters on the floor in less than a minute. She could only gape in horror as the creature then moved on to every other piece of furniture in the living room. First the other side table, then the photo of herself and Discord on top of it. Then the coffee table. Then all of the books she’d laid out on it. Then the lounge chair, and the curtains, and the curtain rod. Then the bookshelf and all of the other books. Then the trash can and everything inside of it. Then the decorations and family photos on the mantle, and the metal screen guarding the fireplace, and the bellows lying by the side, and... well, all of it, really.

“Oh... Oh, no! Angel, what do I do?”

Angel crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the ground, which was approximately bunny-speak for ‘that’s what you get for bringing that thing here.’

Fluttershy gasped. “Angel! Don’t be rude!”

Angel could only roll his eyes in response.

Finally, after the entire room was stripped bare, the creature lay down on the floor, its belly now bloated from gorging itself. A satisfied belch escaped its lips, and it closed its eyes. Loud snores came from its throat as it quickly fell asleep.

Fluttershy closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Oh, my furniture... I just can’t believe it’s all gone. But at least it can’t get any worse, right?”

A very loud smack echoed through the empty room as Angel slapped a paw against his forehead.

Suddenly, the earth began to shake. It was subtle at first, barely noticeable. But the shaking grew more and more intense by the moment, rhythmic tremors occurring in regular patterns. Fluttershy emitted a small ‘eep’ as the tremors grew so intense that she her body was propelled half an inch off the ground every time one of them happened.

Then, a realization struck. They weren’t tremors. They were footsteps.

Fluttershy wanted nothing more at that moment than to hide, to crawl into a hole and disappear until the threat was gone. But she couldn’t. Not when there were so many animals in her home that could be hurt. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, but she didn’t let that stop her. Breathing in and gathering up as much courage as she could muster, she walked over to the front door and stepped outside.

Her body immediately froze in place. There, towering above her house, was a creature just like the one that she’d rescued from the Everfree Forest. The primary difference, of course, being that it was more than thirty feet tall. The creature looked down, its mouth opening to reveal a set of sharp, jagged teeth that were each nearly as large as Fluttershy’s body. Fluttershy dropped to her knees and covered her face with her wings, hoping that it wouldn’t see her if she didn’t move. Her constant shaking made that plan less than ideal, but she figured it was worth a try.

“Mama!”

The sudden cry drew Fluttershy’s attention enough that she almost forgot how scared she was. She peered out from behind her wings to see the creature she’d taken in running out in front of her. The larger creature extended a hand, gently picking up its child and lifting it closer to its face.

The mother creature’s eyes turned towards Fluttershy, then back to her child. “PONY HURT YOU?”

The child shook its head. “Nuh-uh! She nice! Give much food!”

For a second time, the mother creature flashed its teeth to Fluttershy. This time, however, there didn’t seem to be any threat behind the display. On the contrary, she looked... happy, somehow. It was difficult to read emotions from the monstrous visage, but Fluttershy could tell. The mother creature carefully placed its child on its shoulder.

“MUCH THANKS. WE GO NOW.”

As the monster stomped off back to the Everfree Forest, Fluttershy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Despite everything that had happened, she was glad things managed to work out in the end.

Still, she was going to need some new furniture.

————————

Fluttershy, Fauna Keeper 4GW

Legendary Creature — Pegasus

Flying

Prevent all damage that would be dealt to creature tokens you control.

3GW, T: Populate, then populate again. (Create a token that's a copy of a creature token you control. Then do it again.)

”Don’t you worry, little ones. I’ll take good care of you.”

2/8

Author's Note

The working name of Fluttershy’s card was Emmara, Who Doesn’t Suck. The more you know! :raritywink:

Everfree Atogs are primarily known as scavengers who feed off of deposits of iron ore found naturally in the various cave systems beneath the region. However, Everfree Atogs have also been known to scavenge metals from artifacts in various ancient ruins in the forest, the most notable example being the Castle of the Two Sisters. In these circumstances, high concentrations of magical power introduced to an Everfree Atog’s diet can cause rare outbursts of growth, creating the elusive and widely-feared Gigatog.

Shadows over Equestria, Part 1

Note: this chapter contains MAJOR SPOILERS for the Season 7 finale.

————————

AR ~3,389 — Many Centuries Ago

With a name like ‘Hollow Shades,’ Stygian was not expecting something particularly bright or cheery. Yet looking at it now, there was something to the darkness that surpassed anything he could have expected, a shadow so thick that it almost seemed to have be tangible. It loomed over the now-abandoned village like a dense fog, slithering across his coat as his hooves echoed in the dusk.

Ignoring the chill that ran through his horn and across his thaumatic sense, Stygian pushed forward. He had nothing to fear from the Darkness. It had called him here, after all. That knowledge was all he could do to ignore the churning nausea in his stomach, and the powerful dread that had crept its way into every part of his mind.

Finally, after pushing through the darkness, he had found it. The Well of Shades, the very place the Darkness had spoken of in his dreams. It was here that he would find his answer. Here he would obtain everything he could ever want. The fear within him dissipated, replaced with unyielding resolve.

With bated breath, Stygian approached the well, peering over the edge to catch a glimpse of what lay below. All that he found was an inky black darkness, a yawning abyss that looked like it could swallow all the light in Equestria. Though the sight was far from surprising, it nevertheless felt overwhelming.

“W-well, here goes nothing...” Swallowing the last of his fear, he pushed himself up with his hind legs, onto the edge of the well. He carefully began climbing his way over the wall, onto the cracks and crevasses that ran across the wells interior. The cold darkness that gripped at his spine intensified, and he involuntarily forced his eyes shut, unable to bring himself to look at the darkness.

The descent was agonizingly slow, made even worse by the fact that he had no idea how deep the well went. After what felt like ages, he was alerted to the presence of solid ground beneath his hooves. Lowering himself onto the new surface, he opened his eyes, expecting to see nothing more than pitch-black darkness. To his surprise, however, he found that he could see the interior of the well perfectly.

The inside of the Well of Shades did not appear to be a well at all. It looked instead to be some sort of temple, or perhaps a tomb. Grey stone archways held up by equally grey stone pillars, all leading to a single stone gateway depicting a shadowy, demonic being. And throughout all of the expansive catacomb, there was not a single sign of life.

Not a single sign of life, except for one. A single earth pony stallion, with a brown coat and an cutie mark shaped like an hourglass. He placed a raised a hoof to stone gateway, a glowing golden light seeping from the place where his hoof pressed against the door.

Stygian’s body seized up. Who was this stallion? Why was he here? Was he the one who built the catacomb? So many questions, but there was one thing he knew for certain: he wasn’t looking forward to being caught. Trying to avoid making even the slightest breath, he stepped backward...

...and almost immediately, his hoof caught on a loose rock. A deafening clatter broke through the shadows as Stygian crashed onto the ground, leaving his entire body in a daze.

“Hm? Who’s there?” The stallion’s voice spoke, though Stygian couldn’t rightly see him with his head spinning so much. He shook his head, attempting to right his senses, when a brown hoof reached out and grabbed his own. “Come on then, get up!”

As he was pulled back onto his hooves, Stygian took a closer look at the stallion that was now standing right in front of him. By all appearances, he looked like a young adult—yet there was something otherworldly in his deep green eyes, something far greater than he could possibly think to describe. “Um... thanks for the help?”

“It’s no problem,” said the stallion. “Now tell me, what is a colt like you doing here?”

Stygian let out a gulp. What was he supposed to say to that? That Equestria’s greatest heroes had turned their backs on him? That he wanted revenge? That the Shadow had called to him? “Oh, u-um... Well...”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “You’re not here to try to strike some sort of deal, are you? Make a pact with a dark and evil entity that’s powerful beyond your wildest imagination?”

Stygian gasped. “W-what!? No! I would never!”

The stallion gave a piercing glare. It was immediately apparent that he was not an ordinary pony, though what he was, Stygian couldn’t tell. “I would highly recommend against lying to my face, in my experience that never works out in the other person’s favor.”

“W-well, I...”

“You came here because the being that’s imprisoned here called you,” the stallion accused. “And I’m going to tell you right now that, whatever it is it promised you, it will absolutely not turn out to be what you wanted. Now you go on and head home, and I’ll pretend like this never happened.”

“N-now you wait just a minute!” Stygian called back. “You don’t even know what it is I want! You don’t know anything about me!”

“You’re right. I don’t,” said the stallion. “But I’ve spent no small amount of effort ensuring that the thing locked up in here stays locked up, and I’m not about to let you waltz right in and undo everything I’ve done. You had best go home, because there are precisely zero circumstances in which I’ll allow you to release this evil on the world.”

In that moment, Stygian could see that the brown stallion’s gaze held a strength more fearful than any foe that the Pillars of Equestria had ever faced. They were like endless pools of raw power, focused into a will that was both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. As he stared transfixed into them, Stygian’s thaumatic sense had become increasingly aware of a magic very similar to the Shadow that had called him, and just as seemingly endless in its might.

In just a fraction of a second, Stygian’s determination shattered. In the face of such an insurmountable obstacle, his desire for revenge faded away. In its wake was nothing but a yawning emptiness that ate away at him from the inside.

Stygian let out a sigh. “...Easy for you to say. You probably still have a home to go back to.”

To his surprise, the stallion’s ironclad gaze softened almost instantly. He looked surprised, maybe even shocked—yet beneath it all there was a tinge of sympathy. “Now, hold on there. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Stygian blinked. “Wait... you don’t have a home either?”

“Well, I... wouldn’t quite say I have one home,” the stallion replied. “But I certainly understand what it’s like to feel lost. If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that’s been bothering you?”

“It’s... I don’t know,” said Stygian. “It’s difficult to explain. Do you even know who I am?”

“Well, no,” the stallion replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t get to know you, can I?”

Stygian raised a hoof into the air. “But that’s exactly the thing! You don’t know who I am! Nopony knows who I am, despite everything I’ve done for Equestria! I’m the brains behind the Pillars of Equestria! I’m the one who does all the research on their foes, the one who makes sure they even know what it is they’re going up against! But do I ever get any respect? No! Of course not!”

The stallion’s eyes went wide. “The Pillars...?” He paused, looking for a moment to be deep in thought. “Oh! Of course! You must be Stygian!”

Stygian stared in disbelief. “You... you have heard of me?”

The stallion nodded. “Of course. I’ve spoken with Star Swirl once or twice. He told me all about you. If he’s to be believed, you’re the one that brought the whole group together, is that right?”

Stygian held his head low. “Yeah. Not that it matters now. I just... I just wanted to be recognized, but everypony’s turned their backs on me. I’ve got nothing left.”

The stallion smiled warmly, and placed a hoof on Stygian’s shoulder. “Well, you have me, don’t you?”

Stygian’s jaw went slack. “Wh-wha...?”

“I’ve been here to listen the entire time, haven’t I?” said the stallion. “I’d say that counts for something, at the very least.”

Stygian couldn’t believe it. He’d come to the Well of Shades, believing he had absolutely nothing left, hoping to find the one thing that could get him what he wanted. Instead, he’d found the last thing he had ever expected to find. He had found a friend. It was such an unexpected thing, something so overwhelming that it brought him to the verge of tears. And yet, he couldn’t once even think to complain.

“U-um... yeah,” said Stygian. “I guess it does. I, um... never got your name, by the way.”

“Doctor Time Turner,” said the stallion. “Just call me Doctor, if you like.”

Stygian smiled. “Thank you... Doctor.”

————————

If you’re reading this, then Star Swirl is dead.

I’d tried to warn him, of course. I’d tried to tell him that going up against someone as powerful as Urza was a bad idea. But that pony didn’t become the stubborn old codger I knew by listening to others. For crying out loud, he even took credit for growing the Tree of Harmony! I’m sure Harmony herself would have a few choice words for him about that, if she could speak.

But I digress. I’ve been keeping a close eye on Urza’s little project for some time, for reasons that I can’t explain here. Harmony wouldn’t allow her power to be stolen by someone with a heart as cruel as his, and the moment he tried to take the Elements, their power turned against him. I’ve heard that Urza’s been permanently banished from the plane of Ungula, and I’m going to assume he’s not very happy about it.

Of course, with Star Swirl gone, and with myself perpetually kept busy with my life’s work, that leaves this plane in a bit of a vulnerable situation. While Harmony and I should be able to handle the most dire threats ourselves, there will be plenty of times in the near future when I won’t be around, and times when the Elements may not be available for immediate use. Thankfully, my young companion has reassured me that the remaining Pillars of Equestria will stand by to defend the realm, alongside the magic contained in his journal.

I can only hope that they’ll be prepared for what comes next.

“...And that’s the last of it,” said Sunburst. “It looks like whoever wrote in the journal after Star Swirl died knew him fairly closely, but I have no idea who it could be!”

Twilight listened intently as Sunburst finished the last entry in the journal. He stood before the Royal Sisters in their throne room alongside Twilight and all of her closest friends, who watched with expressions that ranged from deep concern to complete fascination.

Celestia leaned forward intently. “Curious. Whoever wrote this journal seems not only to be familiar with Star Swirl, but with the threat that we had faced so many centuries ago.”

“But the journal really did belong to him?” said Twilight. “You can confirm it?”

Sunburst rapidly flipped through the pages of the journal as he held it in his telekinetic grasp. “Well, the last entry appears to be written in earth pony script, while the rest is undoubtedly a unicorn’s hornwriting. If it did belong to him, he must have passed it to somepony he was familiar with after he died.”

Celestia nodded. “Indeed. And the events described in the last entry very closely coincide with what we know about the tyrant Urza and Star Swirl’s murder.”

Luna regarded her sister curiously. “But who could he have passed the journal onto? Star Swirl was never very forward with us about his other friendships.”

Celestia raised a hoof to her chin. “If the last entry is written in earth pony script, then perhaps it could have been written by Rockhoof or Mage Meadowbrook... but it could likely have been written by one of his other contemporaries as well.”

“Whoa, hold on there!” Applejack said. “Are you telling us that the Pillars of Equestria are real?”

“Forget that!” Rainbow interjected. “Did you hear what the journal said about Harmony? Like that it’s some kind of living being, and it was responsible for growing the Tree of Harmony?”

“And what about that part at the end about ‘what comes next?’” said Rarity. “I don’t know about anypony else, but I find that to be rather ominous.”

“There are many things about this that we do not know,” said Luna. “But I can tell you for a fact that the Pillars of Equestria did exist, up until the day that they disappeared.”

Starlight Glimmer gave the group an uneasy glance. “But how exactly did they disappear? And where did they go?”

Celestia gave the gathered ponies a smile. “Well, my Old Ponish is a bit rusty, but perhaps you will find the answers within this journal. Luna could even help you with the translation, if you need it.”

Luna shot her elder sibling an unamused look. “Sister, you know I could never read Star Swirl’s hornwriting.”

Celestia giggled slightly, and playfully jabbed her sister with a hoof. “Oh, relax, Luna! I’m only teasing!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about translating either way, ” Twilight proclaimed. “As it so happens, I’m quite experienced in reading Old Ponish. I’ve studied practically every text on Star Swirl there is!”

“She’s not lying there,” Spike added, somewhat snidely.

“Oh, but this is so exciting!” said Sunburst with a squeal. “We get to investigate a mystery that’s more than a thousand years old! Just think of how much research we’ll do! And the re-research! I don’t even know if that’s a word, but it totally should be!”

“Ooooh, I’ll help!” Pinkie exclaimed. “I’m super-duper good at research! If you need any pictures colored, you can count on me!”

“Um... I don’t think that’s what he means by research,” said Fluttershy. “But I’ll be happy to help, too. Just as long as nopony overworks themselves, of course.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Ugh, do we have to? Research is such a chore!” A series of disapproving glares gave her an answer. “Oh, alright, fine. But you’d better not give me any of the boring books!”

Twilight chuckled silently. She was interested in learning more about Star Swirl through his journal, even before considering the possibility of learning about Equestria’s legendary figures. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” said Twilight. “Let’s get started!”

————————

It had been three days since Twilight and her friends had returned to her library to study the remains of Star Swirl’s journal. By the end of the first day the fatigue had already begun to set in, and by the end of the second all of her friends were practically clamoring for an end to the mystery. Fluttershy had been certain to remind them to take breaks, which they gladly took at every possible opportunity.

Unfortunately, that had also left Twilight with very little to work on. As she stared at the journal, she tried to ignore Spike and Sunburst’s synchronized snoring at both sides of the table. This, of course, was more difficult by the fact that snoring in perfect sync was actually an impressive feat.

Still, she didn’t feel like she’d gotten any closer to solving the mystery than before. While she’d deciphered many a text written in Old Ponish, she’d never had a chance to study Star Swirl’s hornwriting itself. It was a complete mess, almost to the point where it looked like another language entirely.

Then, slowly, an idea began to percolate within the back of her mind. She’d come across plenty of other languages while planeswalking, both handwritten and printed. No matter how indecipherable they had seemed, no matter how poor the handwriting, her translation spell would always provide an easy fix.

Beaming, Twilight concentrated the required mana into her horn. Within moments, all of the words on the page became completely comprehensible.

“Yes!” Twilight exclaimed “I’ve done it! I’ve found something”

Sunburst immediately jumped up in his seat, nearly toppling over as he woke. “What? What happened? What is it?”

“The journal! I’ve deciphered it!” Twilight now had the undivided attention of everyone in the room (minus one particularly deep-sleeping dragon). She grinned widely, and began flipping through the pages, quickly skimming through Star Swirl’s notes.

“Well, darling?” said Rarity. “What have you found?”

“Let’s see here,” said Twilight. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on a particular passage written in the journal. “It says ‘My good friend, um...” Twilight squinted, trying to make out the name. “Somepony had offered us a piece of cryptic advice, as he often does. He says says our destiny lies in the monument of Ponehenge, at the base of Foal Mountain.”

“Hold on there,” said Applejack. “Are you saying the name of Star Swirl’s friend is ‘Somepony?’”

“Oh, I know him!” said Pinkie Pie. “He plays center field for the Manehattan Airships!”

“I don’t know his name, Pinkie,” said Twilight. “It’s too smudged for me to read, even through my translation spell.”

Pinkie giggled. “No, silly, he’s on third base!”

“Nope. Nuh-uh,” Rainbow cut in. “We’re not doing that again. Twilight, this place is at the base of Foal Mountain, right? That’s like, barely more than a couple hours away. It shouldn’t be too hard to find, right?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” said Twilight. “Come on, everypony! Let’s head out!”

————————

“This is it,” said Twilight. “Ponehenge.”

Ponehenge, as to be expected, was both ancient and weathered from centuries of disuse. The stone obelisks had been been eroded away by the elements, with large, leafy vines snaking their way up each of the obelisks. Dusk had already fallen as Twilight led her friends into the site of the ruins, carrying the journal in her magical grasp.

“Oh!” said Sunburst. In a blur of orange, he dashed over to the base of one of the obelisks, his head lowered towards an engraving at the base. “Twilight, take a look at this! I’ve never seen this kind of rune before!”

Twilight trotted closer to the runes, observing them closely. “Interesting. I’ve seen a few similar runes on other planes, but none that were quite like this.”

“Gyah!” Rainbow let out a sudden cry, and a large vine fell to the ground right beside where she was flying just a moment before. Her sudden jolt backwards caused her to crash into a nearby tree trunk, falling into a large bush. As Applejack pulled her out of the shrubbery by the tail, she coughed up a cloud of dust.

“Jeez!” said Rainbow. “Just how long has this place been abandoned, anyway?”

“Seems like quite a long time,” said Applejack. “Ah don’t rightly reckon we’d be able to study them ruins much without clearing away some of this brush first.”

“And we don’t even know if this place has anything to do with what happened to the Pillars of Equestria,” Fluttershy added. “The journal only said that somepony told them their destiny lies here. We don’t know if whoever said that was right.”

Twilight let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I suppose it was a long shot, coming all the way out here.”

Spike approached Twilight, and patter her on the shoulder. “Hey, cheer up. You discovered some pretty neat ruins, right? I mean, sure, you’ve probably seen a lot like it throughout the multiverse, and it’s probably not all that special compared to some things on other planes, but, uh...” Spike paused, and scratched his head. “...huh. You know, I think I forgot where I was going there.”

“It’s okay, Spike,” Twilight reassured. She struggled to hide the disappointment in her voice as she spoke. “I probably shouldn’t have just expected everything to be magically be revealed just by coming here.” Slowly, she lowered the book onto one of the obelisks, unaware of the glow that encompassed the book as it touched the surface.

Then, just as Twilight had begun to walk away, the entire ruin was illuminated in a sudden flash of light.

Applejack briefly reared up onto her hind hooves in shock. “Whoa, nelly!”

“T-Twilight!” said Starlight Glimmer, “What’s going on?”

“Look!” said Rarity. She pointed a hoof at one of the stones.

Turning to see what Rarity was pointing at, Twilight saw a bright, swirling cloud of magic hovering above the obelisk, just over the spot where the journal was located. The cloud grew in size, coalescing and solidifying in form, until it sculpted itself into the shape of a pony. Twilight stared at the image before her, of a grey unicorn colt with a blue mane, draped in a brown tunic. His entire body was translucent, as if it wasn’t entirely there; and Twilight realized right away that what she was seeing was an illusion.

“Hey Twilight, who’s that?” said Pinkie.

“I... I don’t know,” Twilight responded. “Is this... is this one of Star Swirl’s friends?”

“That’s not the only thing!” said Sunburst. “Look!”

Sunburst pointed away from the obelisk, and Twilight’s eyes followed it to the others, where five similar swirling lights coalesced into the shapes of ponies she very much did recognize.

“The Pillars...” Twilight spoke with breathless awe.

Before she could take any closer look at the legendary figure, a loud crackling of magic turned Twilight’s attention to the center of Ponehenge monument, a single circular dais. The grey unicorn’s horn flared to life, a beam of radiant light hitting the dais. At the command of his magic, a miasma of writing shadows erupted from the dais, it too coalescing into a shape of its own.

To Twilight’s horror, it was not the shape of a pony. It was the shape of a massive, demonic biped of pure darkness, a pair of large, curling horns sprouting from the sides of its head. Just looking at it she could feel it overwhelming hatred, and with a voice like a swarm of locusts, it spoke.

“How flattering of you to summon me here, Stygian. But unfortunately for you, I am no longer in need of a vessel. It is only a matter of time before I regain my full strength, and crush this world within the palm of my hand!”

The image of Stygian stepped forward, a fire burning beneath his eyes. “I don’t know how you managed to escape your prison, but I can tell you right now that you’re not going anywhere! We’ll stop you, here and now!”

The demon let out a laugh, echoing through the dark in pure malice. “And how, might I ask, do you intend to do that? Even in my weakened state, I am more powerful than anything you could possibly comprehend! You and your little ponies are nothing to me!”

“Like this,” Stygian countered. His horn once again lit up, and an image of Star Swirl’s journal raised itself above his head. The other pillars followed, each raising an item of their own: Flash Magnus’s shield, Mistmane’s flower, Somnambula’s blindfold, Meadowbrook’s mask, and Rockhoof’s shovel. Each item glowed with an intense, powerful light, until each light solidified into a beam of radiant energy, connecting the artifacts together into a hexagonal shape.

The demon recoiled, shielding its glowing eyes with an arm. “W-what? What is this? How!?”

The images of the six ponies rose into the air, carrying the demon with them. Then, in a flash of light, all of them disappeared, leaving the illusory images of their artifacts clattering to the ground before vanishing.

Twilight looked around, seeing the bewildered stares on each of her friend’s faces.

“Well, that was convenient!” said Pinkie. “You wanted an explanation, right?”

“But what the hay did that even explain?” asked Rainbow. “I still don’t know what just happened!”

“From the looks of it, that Stygian did something to defeat that demon,” said Starlight.

“Of course!” Sunburst. “And with these ruins having powerful magic of their own, that spell must have left some kind of snapshot of the spell here! Bringing back the journal must of have let us see for ourselves!”

“See what?” said Applejack.

“That this Stygian pony sacrificed himself to save Equestria,” said Twilight.

————————

The next morning, Twilight had brought all her friends to the castle to discuss what she had seen. Spike, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity had already gathered before her in the throne room, sitting before her expectantly as she held Star Swirl’s journal. Sunburst and Starlight Glimmer were the last to arrive, entering through the doors side-by-side.

“Starlight! Sunburst! You’re just in time!” Twilight greeted. “I think I understand what happened yesterday!”

Starlight shared a look with Sunburst. “You do?” she said.

“Of course!” said Twilight. “That spell was unlike anything I’ve seen before! It must have been something written by Star Swirl himself. That other unicorn must have learned it from him!”

Sunburst turned to Starlight, sharing another puzzled look with her. “Are you sure about that, though?” he said. “How do you know he didn’t invent the spell himself?”

“Look, I know Star Swirl’s magic, okay?” said Twilight. “I’ve spent practically my whole life studying it! And what we saw back there wasn’t just any spell! What we saw was a spell that would send that demon to Limbo!” To demonstrate, Twilight pulled out a diorama, with tiny cardboard cutouts of the Pillars of Equestria, Stygian, and the shadowed demon. With a flash of her horn, what appeared to be a hole in space formed above the diorama, and the entire model disappeared in a flash of light.

“Twilight, your diorama!” said Rarity.

“Don’t worry, it’s just an illusion,” said Twilight.

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s great and all, but what the hay is Limbo?”

“Limbo,” said Twilight, carrying the journal with her into the air as she explained, “is a sub-planar realm that lies ‘beneath’ our plane, so to speak. Effectively, it’s a world of complete stillness, where time and space as we know them don’t properly exist. And that Stygian pony... well, I don’t know the exact details, but it looks like he decided the only way to trap that demon in Limbo was to have himself and the Pillars take it there.”

Applejack’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “So you’re saying they’re trapped there, too!”

“Oh, goodness!” said Fluttershy. “That monster must have been awful if they had to do that!”

“Yeah, and Limbo sounds completely boring!” said Pinkie. “I bet they don’t even have any poles to do the limbo with!”

Twilight shook her head, and descended back into her seat. “Well, no. Like I said, Limbo is a realm that exists outside of time and space. They wouldn’t be able to do anything at all. Strictly speaking, they’re not even conscious. It’s... almost like being dead, kind of.”

A chorus of gasps suddenly sounded out in the throne room.

“Are you serious?” said Rainbow. “We have to get them out of there!”

Twilight froze. “G-get them out?”

“I agree with Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy chimed in. “I can’t bear the thought of leaving them all alone like that.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. “I, um... I never thought about that. I’d just considered declaring the mystery solved and leaving it at that.”

“But why wouldn’t you want to rescue them, darling?” said Rarity. “If it were one of us trapped in Limbo, I’m certain you wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“Hay, if Star Swirl himself were trapped there, I’d bet a million bits you’d be looking for a way to free him right now!” Rainbow added.

Rainbow’s words stung, if ever so slightly. It was probably true, Twilight realized. Star Swirl was her idol, and she would have immediately jumped for chance to meet him. “I... I just don’t know, Rainbow. If these ponies sent themselves to Limbo, it had to have been for a good reason.”

Rarity approached Twilight, and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Twilight, dear, I understand feeling a bit apprehensive about this whole rescuing legendary ponies business, but you’ve seen worlds beyond anything we could ever dream of. If there’s anypony who can save the Pillars of Equestria, it would be you.”

Twilight looked around the room, drinking in the sight of her friends’ faces. There was something soothing about seeing them all together like this. And as nervous as she felt about the idea, they were right. Star Swirl had already had his life tragically cut short, even as old as he was. The other Pillars of Equestria deserved to have a chance at life that he never could. And that Stygian colt in particular was young, younger than any pony trapped indefinitely in Limbo should have been.

“Alright,” said Twilight, “I’ll do it. I think I might be able to open a portal to Limbo to free them.”

Starlight blinked. “A portal? Are you sure? I, um, don’t exactly have the best track record with those.”

“Time portals and space portals are different, Starlight,” Twilight responded. “Besides, it’s the right thing to do. I can’t let these ponies spend the rest of eternity in nothingness when they could still live happy and fulfilling lives.”

“But how exactly will you be opening this here portal?” said Applejack.

“Um... hold on, let me see here.” Twilight levitated the journal to herself, flipping through its pages. “Oh! I think I’ve got it! It says here: ‘My compatriots are as varied as the realm itself and hail from every corner of our land, bringing with them artifacts and talismans of great power.’ So if we just find these artifacts, we could—”

“Um, Twilight?” Starlight interrupted. “What are you doing?”

“Huh?” said Twilight. A sudden tingling in her horn alerted her to the presence of a new magic, and she turned her head upwards, towards its source. Five dancing lights appeared above the Cutie Map, within each a symbol of an artifact: Rockhoof’s shovel, Flash Magnus’s shield, Mistmane’s flower, Meadowbrook’s mask, and Somnambula’s blindfold. The Cutie Map’s holographic display flared to life, and the five artifacts gently fell across the map, in various locations across the world.

“The artifacts!” said Sunburst.

Twilight grinned. “Pack your bags, everypony. We’re all going on a scavenger hunt.”

————————

The search for the artifacts had brought Twilight’s friends all across Equestria and beyond, splitting themselves up to each find the items and bring them together. It was no doubt an eventful journey for each and every single one of them, but that wasn’t important to Twilight right now. What was important was that they were all here, at the monument of Ponehenge, right where they needed to be.

“You sure this will work, Twilight?” said Spike.

“Well, um... no. It’s not exactly tested,” Twilight responded. “But we’ll find out shortly.”

Twilight stepped forward, towards the center dais of the monument. A simple telekinetic maneuver lifted the artifacts, along with Star Swirl’s journal, and placed them each on their respective obelisks. Then, approaching the obelisk with Star Swirl’s journal, she turned around to face Starlight and Sunburst.

“You two ready?”

The two unicorns both nodded in affirmation.

“Right! Let’s do this!” Twilight took to the air and lowered her head, and a beam of purple light shot from her horn, towards the journal. A teal beam of light from Starlight’s horn followed, and then an orange beam from Sunburst. The journal glowed intensely, and Twilight could feel something opening, something being gently tugged through.

Then, a beam of light shot from the journal, snaking around Ponehenge as it connected to each of the other five artifacts, forming the same hexagon that they had seen before. Twilight flashed a smile at her friends. Everything was working exactly as she’d planned.

The hexagon rose into the air, shrinking as the beams converged into a single point, before disappearing in a blinding flash of light. When Twilight’s eyes adjusted, the forms of six ponies appeared in the air, just above each of the obelisks. Her smile vanished when she saw that a large boulder was hovering just above each of them.

“Look out!” Rainbow called out. In a blur, she moved to catch the falling figure of the legendary Flash Magnus, pulling him out of the way just before the boulder could fall on top of him. Each of the other Pillars was caught by one of Twilight’s friends in turn, pulling them out of the way just before they hit the ground.

Then, of course, there was one last pony. Stygian, the same one that had cast the spell from Star Swirl’s journal. Twilight caught him in her hooves at the last minute, gently lowering him to the ground, out of the way of the falling boulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Uhhhhggh,” said Stygian, rubbing his forehead. “What happened?”

“It’s alright,” said Twilight, giving a reassuring smile. “You’re free now. You won’t have to spend any more time trapped in Limbo.”

“Limbo...” Stygian’s eyes suddenly snapped open. “Wait, you released us!?”

“Um... yeah,” said Twilight. “I’d heard about what happened, and felt bad. It wasn’t fair that you all had to have your lives cut short like that. I wanted to give you all a second chance.”

“Yeah!” said Rainbow. “And now you get to hang out with us, too! Talk about a bonus!”

“No! You can’t!” Stygian blurted out.

All at once, all of Twilight’s friends turned to face the frantic unicorn. His body was trembling in absolute terror, so much so that he could barely stand still.

“Y-you don’t understand!” said Stygian. “I-if we’re back, t-t-t-then that means he’s back, too!”

Twilight froze. No. It couldn’t be. That demon she’d seen.

A sound like a peal of thunder broke the silence, nearly deafening Twilight with its force. She looked up to see a swirling vortex of darkness gathering above the central dais of Ponehenge. As it swirled, it began to lower itself to the ground, condensing into a very familiar, very large, very horned shape.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was familiar. The darkness felt familiar, a darkness that she had only ever felt once before, in her entire life. A darkness she had felt coming from only one thing, owned by one person.

“This... this power,” said Twilight. “It can’t be...”

“Now do you get it!?” said Stygian. “Now do you see what you’ve done!?”

“N-no!” Twilight shot back. “That’s not it! It’s the Chain Veil! This power feels just like the Chain Veil!” Stygian said nothing in response, only staring back as though Twilight were speaking another language.

Then, a voice sounded, so loud that it seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.

“So you know of the artifact that barred me from entering the plane of Shandalar. I am pleased to hear that my power has imprinted upon it.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “W-what!? Shandalar!? B-b-but that’s impossible! How do you know about that plane? Who are you?”

The last of the darkness gathered together, and the shadowed demon stood as tall as an oak tree, its eyes opening to reveal a burning hatred the likes of which Twilight had never before felt.

“You may call me... Arzakon.”

————————

Arzakon the Shadowed 4B

Legendary Planeswalker — Arzakon

Arzakon the Shadowed enters the battlefield with an additional loyalty counter on him for each color of mana spent to cast him.

+1: Add B and one mana of any color to your mana pool.
-3: Destroy target creature. Draw a card.
-8: Target opponent gets an emblem with “Whenever you tap a land for mana, that land produces B instead of any other type or amount.”

0

Author's Note

Also known as “my attempt to reconcile the Season 7 finale with the continuity I’ve created for my fic.” Hopefully, it works.

Arzakon, for those not in the know, is the main villain and final boss of the Microprose Magic: the Gathering PC game. He starts his duel with his life total in the hundreds (with the exact amount depending on your actions in-game), and is notably the only opponent that uses all five colors of mana in his deck. He’s quite formidable, but thankfully you’re not technically required to kill him, since the amount of damage you do determines how long he’s banished from Shandalar.

Canonically, Shandalar had a barrier around it that was maintained by an artifact, intended to keep Arzakon from entering the plane. Though the barrier was eventually destroyed by means unknown, what happened to Arzakon afterwards is left ambiguous.

As for his relation to the Chain Veil... well, we’ll have to wait and see how that works in canon, but those familiar with MtG lore might understand what exactly I’m trying to imply here. Arzakon isn’t the Raven Man, but someone very close to him may well be...

Shadows Over Equestria, Part 2

The demon roared, and a pulse of shadow erupted from Arzakon’s hand, a beam of necrotic magic directed straight at Twilight. Twilight reacted swiftly, shooting back with a concussive blast of her own, pushing against the dark assault until it halted in place. The two beams struggled against each other, until Arzakon’s own attack dissipated, and he was struck in head by Twilight’s spell.

As Arzakon stumbled for a moment, Twilight took to the air. Channeling the power of fire, her mane ignited into flames, and an intense blast of heat and plasma erupted from her horn, barreling towards the shadowed being. But Arzakon was prepared this time, and a shield of glowing alabaster momentarily surrounded him, Twilight’s assault dissipating harmlessly against it.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. That was white magic. A demon of purest darkness, black as black could be, and he had harnessed white magic with the utmost of ease. Twilight shook her head and resumed her assault, spewing a jet of fire from her horn. Arzakon responded once more. A pulse of magic from his hand, and Twilight’s fire spell dissipated into nothing. A counterspell. Blue magic.

Arzakon followed up his defensive spell with a thrust of his hand. Power crackled between his claws, and a burst of lightning shot from his palm. Red magic. The electric attack struck Twilight painfully and forcefully, and she shrieked in agony as her body convulsed, the pain forcing her out of her fire-maned state.

Then, as she feel to the ground, Arzakon’s magic called to something beneath it, and a web of entangling vines surrounded Twilight. Green magic. The vines gripped Twilight all across her body, surrounding her and binding her legs, wings, tail, and horn. She was completely immobilized, unable to fight back, even her magic suffocated by the vines’ complete vicegrip on her horn.

Twilight felt the unmistakable pulse of Starlight’s magic, and then the vines were gone. She collapsed to the ground, still too exhausted to move, and saw as her friends began confronting the demon in unison.

“Alright, girls!” said Starlight. “Take him down!”

A rainbow-colored streak shot forward, circling Arzakon with blinding speed. Then, before Arzakon could begin to follow the motion, Rainbow Dash doubled back and performed a u-turn. She carried her momentum as she flew with her front hooves forward, driving them both straight into Arzakon’s face. The impact left a sickening crunch that sounded like shattering bone, and Rainbow quickly retreated as Arzakon staggered on his feet.

And then Arzakon was immediately struck by a massive stone obelisk flying through the air. Applejack had lifted one of the monuments of Ponehenge onto her back with great ease, before tossing it above her, spinning around, and bucking it with all of her strength. The boulder completely shattered from the force of impact, breaking into innumerable small pebbles that flew out with explosive force. Starlight’s horn glowed, momentarily surrounding the ponies with an aura that shielded them from the shrapnel.

Arzakon staggered backwards and clutched his arm in pain. He howled in purest rage, but the sound was immediately drowned out by an explosion of cannonfire. An enormous glob of something sticky and pink spewed forth from Pinkie’s Party Cannon, enveloping Arzakon in what smelled and looked like chewed bubblegum. He struggled against the sweet-smelling mass, but every motion only ended with him becoming more entangled.

“Fluttershy, try to stare him down!” said Starlight. “See if you can stop him from escaping!”

“Eep!” Fluttershy squeaked, her shaking uncontrollably as she attempted to hide herself beneath her wings. Slowly, she peered out from behind her feathers. “U-um, okay... I-I think can try.”

Just as Arzakon finally managed to struggle free, he was suddenly set upon by a pair of intense, piercing eyes. His body immediately seized up, Fluttershy’s stare managing to hold him in place.

“Hrhkk... Y-you...” Arzakon only managed to barely choke out a partly-coherent statement. Head to toe, his body seemed almost completely paralyzed.

“Good going!” Starlight called out. “Rarity, Sunburst! Lend me a horn, will you? We’ll blast him together!”

“Oh dear,” said Rarity. “Are you sure about that? You know I’m not the best at offensive magic. I can barely even manage a simple stun spell.”

“Doesn’t matter! Every little bit counts!” said Starlight. “Now, come on! Fluttershy, get out of the way!”

“R-right!” said Fluttershy. She quickly zipped away, leaving the demon dazed and befuddled. As he shook his head, Sunburst and Rarity joined Starlight by her side.

Then, with a trio of glowing horns, Arzakon was blasted with an intensely powerful beam of energy. Greenish-blue magic shot forward, with slightly deeper blue and warm yellow streams surrounding it, wrapping around Starlight’s magic in a double-helix.

The combined blast from the three unicorns impacted Arzakon straight in the center of the chest. He screamed in agony as it pushed against him, drilling into him with immense force. Starlight grunted in exertion, and the central beam intensified in power. With one final push, the attack pierced straight through the demon’s chest, exploding out the other side of his body and streaking into the sky.

As the magical assault finally dissipated, Arzakon collapsed onto one knee. The hole in his chest had already begun to repair itself, strands of shadow forming from the edges, weaving new skin over the gap in his body.

“H-how?” Arzakon groaned. “I feel even weaker than before... How am I so powerless?” As his injury finally healed itself fully, he clutched the space on his chest where there had once been a hole in it. His eyes went wide, the pure white space within them struck by sudden epiphany. “No! My spark! What have you done to my spark!?”

“...Spark?” said Twilight. That was it. He had mentioned the spark. An epiphany bubbled up into Twilight’s thoughts, and a grin crept its way across her face as she stood up to her hooves. “That’s right! The Great Mending! The very nature of the planeswalker spark was changed sixty years ago! Planeswalkers are no longer the godlike beings they used to be, and that means you’re now just as mortal as every single one of us!”

Arzakon’s eyes snapped open. “What!? N-no! You lie!” His eyes closed, and a frustrated snarl escaped from his throat. Slowly, he stood himself back up to two feet. “No... It doesn’t matter what you’ve done to me. Even with my spark altered, I am still far more powerful than any of you could ever hope to be. Once my strength recovers, this plane’s mana will be mine for the taking. My shadows will extinguish all of the hope and light your world has ever known! So make peace with your lives, as they too will soon be snuffed out!”

Arzakon cackled madly, a deep, reverberating laugh that sent shivers down Twilight’s spine. Then, in a swirling cloud of shadow, he disappeared. As he vanished, Starlight approached and rested a hoof against Twilight’s shoulders.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I think I’m alright, thanks,” Twilight replied. “That was really impressive how you coordinated that, Starlight.”

Starlight blushed slightly. “Oh, well... It’s nothing, really. I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you getting hurt.”

“In any case, I’m grateful for all of your help,” said Twilight. She looked around, seeing the anxiety written on everyone’s faces. Only now, after taking a look at them all, did she truly understand the situation before her. She wasn’t merely fighting alongside her friends, but alongside the most legendary ponies in all of Equestria. Her chest felt light as she considered the things that she might be able to learn from them, but the more rational part of her told her in no uncertain terms that there were more important things to worry about.

“So where’d that scary demon guy go, anyway?” said Rainbow Dash.

Somnambula shook her head. “That, we do not know. It is a riddle we must solve ourselves, and quickly.”

Meadowbrook glanced around, at the ruined stone obelisks. It was clear from the lines on her face that she was distraught. “Just how long have we been gone?”

Sunburst tapped a hoof to his chin. “Well, let’s see here... it’s difficult to say, since timekeeping systems weren’t quite as advanced back when you were still around, but based on all the evidence I’ve seen... I’d guess somewhere around one thousand, one hundred, and fifty years.”

Every single one of the Pillars went silent. Sunburst’s explanation had no doubt startled all of them, and they could only stare as the weight of the information struck them.

Stygian, however, did not seem to share in their astonishment. His eyes narrowed and his body stiffened as he walked towards Twilight, shooting her a glare. “More than a thousand years of peace, then. Centuries have passed where Equestria had naught to worry of evil. And you...” He jabbed a hoof at Twilight, poking her in the center of the chest. “...You have the sheer audacity to undo it all? For what? To save us when we never asked to be saved? To bring us back after the world has no doubt forgotten of us already? Your actions have doomed every single living thing in all of Equestria!”

“I...” Twilight nearly flinched at the accusation. Stygian’s words made her feel like a chasm had opened up within her chest.

“That’s enough, Stygian,” Rockhoof cut in. “She only wished to help us, and an alicorn is a powerful ally besides. She and her friends are strong, and we may be able to use their help.”

“You said it!” said Pinkie. “You should see all the other villains we’ve managed to take down. There’s Nightmare Moon, Discord, Queen Chrysalis, Lord Tirek, that time Starlight Glimmer nearly erased the entire world from history through an accumulation of temporal paradoxes... we’re friends now though, so it’s cool!”

The last part of Pinkie’s statement immediately drew the attention of the ancient ponies. Starlight, meanwhile, shrank back, her ears folding against her head.

Flash Magnus broke into a grin. “Sounds like you’ve had a few adventures of your own. I’m sure we’d be able to take down Arzakon even faster if we work together. So, what do you say?”

Stygian closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, before letting the tension out of his body with a sigh. “...Alright. Fine. I suppose we’ll need all the help we can get. And besides, I... I think I more than anypony should know the value of giving second chances.” He looked to Twilight, determination twinkling in his eyes. “And I think I know exactly where we’ll find Arzakon.”

“Thank you for being understanding, Stygian,” Twilight replied. “We’ll need a plan though, before we can confront him. Let’s head back to my castle and see if we can figure things out before it’s too late.”

With a series of nods, the group followed Twilight as she began leading them back to Ponyville.

————————

Twilight had soon gathered her friends, as well as their new companions, around the Cutie Map. She oversaw the map as it projected a holographic image of Equestria over itself, showing the entire nation from a bird’s-eye view. The ancient ponies stared at the map in silent wonder as the gentle light of its magic washed over the throne room.

“Goodness!” said Meadowbrook. “This magic feels just like the Tree we planted!”

“The tree?” said Applejack. “Hold on, you don’t mean the Tree of Harmony, do you?”

Somnambula’s smile shined off the light reflected from the Map. “That we most certainly do. A friend of Star Swirl’s gave us a crystal seed, said to be born from Harmony herself. We poured our magic into the seed, nurturing it into something that would grow to protect Equestria.”

“When we saw the Tree of Harmony last, it was only a sapling,” Mistmane added. “Even then I could see the beauty it would one day bestow upon the land, but I never imagined it could grow something this breathtaking.”

“Wait, hold on,” said Flash Magnus. “You’re saying this castle grew from the Tree of Harmony?”

“Yup! And it’s all thanks to us!” Rainbow boasted. “Man, you should have seen it! We all seemed completely powerless at first, but then we were all ’whooosh! zap!’ And then we defeated the bad guy, and Twilight got this sweet castle, and we each got our own thrones! It was totally awesome!”

Flash lightly chuckled to himself. “I think I like your style.”

Stygian cleared his throat. “While I don’t want to interrupt your camaraderie, we have something much more important to worry about. Arzakon is retreating to regain his power, and I know exactly where he’s going.”

A pulse of magic came from Stygian’s horn. Twilight immediately recognized it as the same kind of dark magic that she had used when attempting to recover the Crystal Heart from King Sombra. Then, on the map, a swirling cloud of darkness appeared above a small, unassuming village to the east of Canterlot.

“There,” said Stygian. “That’s where we’ll find Arzakon. In the Hollow Shades, deep within the Well of Shades.”

“The Hollow Shades?” said Applejack. “Ah think Ah’ve heard of that place. A distant branch of mah family lives there. Supposedly, anyway. Ah ain’t never seen them in family reunions.”

“If any part of your family ever lived there, they haven’t done so for many centuries,” said Stygian. “Even in my era, the town was destroyed by the time I’d discovered it. Its entire population was no doubt slain by Arzakon’s foul magic.”

Applejack could only look back at Stygian in horror, her expression shared equally by all of her friends.

“Geez,” said Spike, “that’s kind of dark.”

“I’m aware,” Stygian replied dryly. “While others may shun the darkness, I embrace it out of necessity. Those who spend their entire lives under the light are blind to the evil that lives in shadow.”

Applejack reached up and adjusted her hat with a hoof. “Well... Ah’d say you didn’t have to be so blunt about it, but considering who Ah am that’d probably be a mite hypocritical on mah part.”

“B-but, what’s this about a... a...” Fluttershy gave an audible gulp as she spoke. “...W-well of Shades?”

“The Well of Shades was where Arzakon was imprisoned,” Stygian explained. “I... I was called there once, in a dream. He tried to tempt me with power, exploit my fears, and use me for his own purposes. Had it not been for a friend’s help, I would have fallen for it, too.”

Meadowbrook place a hoof over her chest. “Oh, Stygian, honey...”

Stygian shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, Meadowbrook, but I’m not the one you should worry about. Arzakon has no doubt returned to the Well of Shades. Even through his imprisonment, his dark magic was able to corrupt the Well, and eventually all of Hollow Shades itself. Even after more than a thousand years of absence, it would no doubt still be enveloped in his own shadow. There is no better place for him to wait and recover his power.”

“Oh, dear,” said Rarity. “You’re not planning on sending yourselves back to Limbo, are you? After only just managing to return?”

Stygian opened his mouth to respond, but was almost immediately cut off.

“Wait,” Twilight interrupted. “Stygian, hold that thought. I know you were planning on sacrificing yourself again to stop Arzakon, but I think I know another way to take him down.”

Stygian’s jaw hung loose. “I... You do?”

Twilight nodded. “I think I understand the reason why Arzakon is so formidable. You see, even though his magic is based on black mana, he was able to almost effortlessly use all the other colors of mana to complement it. And I think I know how we can beat him without having to sacrifice anypony.”

“I... you do?” said Stygian. “But what do you mean by ‘colors?’”

“It’s not something you would have heard of in your time,” said Twilight. “But I’d recently discovered that all forms of magic can be separated into five different colors: white, blue, black, red, and green. Each pony’s personality, attitude, and beliefs determine what colors they’re aligned with, which in turn determines what kind of magic they can use just as much as their tribe or heritage. For example, my magic is based on blue, red, and white magic, while Star Swirl’s would have likely been based only in blue. ”

“Well, that’s interesting and everything,” said Stygian. “But how is that supposed to help us?”

“It’s extremely rare to see someone with an affinity for more than three colors,” Twilight explained, “and I used to believe that only the most otherworldly and godlike beings in the multiverse could use all five colors at once. Arzakon, however, has somehow managed to find a way to harness mana that’s entirely foreign to his own power. This is his greatest strength, but it could also be his greatest weakness.”

Stygian and the Pillars all shared a look. “How so?” said Stygian.

“Well, I still need to go over the calculations for a bit,” Twilight replied. “But drawing from five different colors at once would theoretically leave him uniquely vulnerable. It’s extremely difficult to weave more than three kinds of magic together, as I said, and attempting to do so should allow a window of opportunity. Hold on a second.”

Twilight teleported away, into her own private bedchamber. She grabbed a quill and a scrap of parchment from the drawer in her bedside desk, then began quickly jotting down calculations she needed as they came to her in her mind. Then, in a flash, she was back in the throne room.

“I’ve got it!” Twilight exclaimed. “See this?” She levitated the parchment over and placed it in front of Stygian.

“I... yes. But I’m not sure what this is trying to say.”

“It’s the way we’ll defeat Arzakon!” said Twilight. “The reason you rarely see anyone use more than three kinds of magic is that every color you use spreads your magic thinner among them. Beyond three, if anything disrupts your ability to draw from one of your colors, you’ll have a difficult time using magic at all.”

Stygian’s eyes lit up. “And if we can disrupt Arzakon’s mana, we can defeat him!”

“Exactly!” said Twilight. “Since Arzakon has all five, it will only take a comparatively small disruption to counteract his power. But in order to do so, we’ll need to find five individuals who each represent the colors of magic in their purest forms. If they all channel their power against Arzakon at once, it should disrupt his ability to draw from each of their colors. And fortunately, I happen to know exactly who those people are.”

The ancient ponies all stared at Twilight, as though expecting an answer. Her friends, meanwhile, immediately gave her a knowing look.

“Gonna call the Jacetice League, huh?” Rainbow joked.

Twilight shot Rainbow a glare. “Please don’t be disrespectful of the Gatewatch. You might not care, but I do.”

“Twilight, darling, are you sure you want to call the entire Gatewatch here?” said Rarity. She rubbed her foreleg with a hoof. “Liliana and haven’t exactly gotten along...”

“I know Rarity, I know,” said Twilight. “I don’t really like the idea of having to bring her over, but we don’t have a lot of time. If we don’t act now, Arzakon may become too powerful for us to ever defeat.” Grabbing onto the parchment with a hoof, Twilight stepped back from the table.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” said Twilight. “Hold the fort for me until I return.”

Her horn sparked to life, and Twilight teleported back to her own room. Gathering the supplies needed for planeswalking was normally a task she devoted extensive preparation for, but right now she didn’t have the time. A small pair of saddlebags, the note containing her calculations, and the map of Jace’s teleportals were all she needed.

Once all of the things she needed were gathered, Twilight’s horn sparked to life, and she teleported away.

————————

As Twilight arrived on Ravnica, she found herself, as usual, in the middle of a populated street. Thankfully, her presence had failed to attract attention. Quick reflexes and equally quick thinking had taught her to apply an invisibility spell the moment she arrived on the plane.

With another simple illusion, she dismissed the invisibility and assumed her usual human disguise. From there, she quickly glanced at the map she’d taken with her, finding the nearest place where she could find Jace’s sanctum. Sure enough, an entrance was within a disused alleyway, far from the attention of the public, not far from where she’d arrived.

After a short knock on the door, Twilight was greeted by the perpetually-stern face of Lavinia.

“Princess Twilight. To what do I owe your presence?”

A slight tingle of annoyance formed within Twilight’s core. Lavinia had always insisted on referring to everyone by their formal titles, much to her chagrin. “I need to speak with Jace. It’s an emergency.”

Lavinia’s eyes scanned Twilight’s form. There was always an alertness to her mannerisms, as though constantly looking for some kind of threat. “The Guildpact is currently busy, but he may be able to readjust his schedule. Come in.”

Twilight quickly followed Lavinia into the building. Sure enough, Jace was hunched over a desk in the common room, a truly gargantuan stack of paperwork laid out before him. Twilight couldn’t help but wince sympathetically at the sight of it. As Lavinia left the two to their own devices, Twilight dismissed her illusion as she approached.

Jace briefly gave Twilight a glance, before turning back to his work. “Good to see you, Twilight. Sorry I can’t give you a more proper welcome.”

“Doesn’t matter. No time,” said Twilight. “How quickly can you assemble the Gatewatch and get them to Equestria?”

If Twilight didn’t have Jace’s full attention before, she certainly had it now. “I take it this is an emergency?”

“Long story short, yes,” Twilight replied. “There’s a powerful demonic planeswalker that’s threatening our world, and we’ll need all of you to help deal with him. Tell Liliana to come, too.”

“You must be truly desperate if you want her help.”

Twilight didn’t respond. She preferred to let her unamused stare do the talking for her.

“Sorry. I’m just saying, you two never exactly got along. And to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to convince her to return to your plane.”

Twilight exhaled softly, trying to ease away the building anxiety in her chest. “I know. I think I know how you can get her to come along, though. I’m fairly certain the planeswalker we’re facing is the reason the Chain Veil has such dark power.”

A very loud, harsh noise escaped from Jace’s throat, as though he were suddenly choking on something. “I’m sorry, what?”

“His name is Arzakon,” Twilight explained. “He claimed the Chain Veil was created to prevent him from entering the plane of Shandalar, and that his power imprinted on it, somehow. It’s just a hypothesis so far, but I think the Chain Veil’s curse is a result of it twisting its bearer into a reflection of Arzakon himself.”

Jace adjusted his cloak, then turned to face Twilight more closely. His eyes still carried the same twinkle of curiosity, but the crease on his brow was laced with concern. “And you want to bring Liliana to the one who gave the Chain Veil its power? I’m sure you understand, that could end very badly for all of us.”

Twilight could feel hear ears splaying against her own head. She hadn’t seen Liliana at her worst, and she’d hoped to Celestia that she would never have to. “It’s... It’s crazy, I know. But I wouldn’t be doing this if we had any other options. I don’t think we can use the Elements of Harmony without the Tree of Harmony dying, and letting the Tree die could cause irreversible damage to our plane’s mana. We’ll need her to stop Arzakon, and we need to stop him quickly. The fate of our entire world is at stake.”

Jace scooted back from his chair and stood up, pulling his hood over his head. “Give me an hour or so, I’ll have everyone ready. We’ll meet you at your castle.”

Twilight nodded. “Thank you, Jace.”

As Jace turned to walk away, Twilight channeled her inner magic, and planeswalked back to Equestria.

————————

“...And that’s the plan. Any questions?”

As she glanced around the throne room, Twilight could plainly see the anxious looks written on everyone’s faces. In particular, the more ancient of the ponies gathered were especially unsure.

“You never told us you were a planeswalker,” said Flash Magnus. “How do we know you’re really on our side?”

“Flash!” said Meadowbrook. “Be nice! Can’t you see she’s trying to help us?”

“What?” said Flash. “I’m just saying, they don’t exactly have the best track record with us.”

Rockhoof let out a snort. “Personally, I’d have thought we would all know better than to rush to judgment by now.”

Stygian turned and raised an eyebrow towards Flash, prompting the latter to back away slightly. “I would have to agree with Rockhoof,” Stygian added. “Arzakon grows stronger by the minute, and Twilight’s plan is the best chance we have at defeating him once and for all. Twilight, do you know when this Gatewatch of yours will arrive?”

“Jace said it would take about an hour to get everyone here,” Twilight replied. “So, based on that estimate, I’d say—”

Slam!

Twilight was abruptly cut off by the sound of the front doors opening. Four familiar ponies and one familiar deer moved through the entrance, quickly joining Twilight and the others by the central table. It was still odd, seeing the Gatewatch transformed by Equestria’s magic, but they were still easily recognizable as the planeswalkers she knew.

“We came here as soon as we could,” said Jace. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We were just going over it,” said Twilight. “I’ll be glad to explain it again, though. In the meantime, why don’t you introduce yourselves? Everypony, this is Jace, Chandra, Nissa, Gideon, and Liliana. Over here are Stygian, Flash Magnus, Mistmane, Somnambula, Mage Meadowbrook, and Rockhoof.” She motioned to each of the ponies in turn as she introduced them.

A perplexed frown appeared on Stygian’s face, and he turned to face Liliana. “Hold on. I’m feeling something strange coming from her. Is this the Chain Veil of which you spoke, Twilight?”

“Well—”

“Indeed it is,” Liliana interrupted. “It’s also none of your business. We’re here to defeat Arzakon, is that right?”

Twilight briefly closed her eyes and exhaled. Already she could practically feel the unease radiating off of her friends. “Yes, that’s correct. And we’re going to need each of you to do so. I’ve already devised a plan of action that can take him down.” Her horn flared to life, and a holographic image of Arzakon appeared before her, projected in place of the Cutie Map. In it, images of the Gatewatch surrounded him, while all the other ponies present stood behind the Gatewatch, hovering in the air.

As the phantasmal image of Arzakon roared, each member of the Gatewatch surrounded themselves in a powerful aura of color. Five line of colored mana erupted from them, surrounding and binding Arzakon in a cocoon of multicolored light. Then, each of the Pillars raised their artifacts aloft. Bright light emanated from each of them, until an illusory portal appeared before Arzakon. With little resistance, the demonic planeswalker was sucked into the portal, never to be seen again.

Twilight dismissed her illusion, and gave a satisfied grin. “As you can see here, if you all are able to channel your magic at once, you should be able to disrupt Arzakon’s mana long enough to leave him vulnerable. That will allow us to seal him away in Limbo without sacrificing anyone, where he’ll remain trapped indefinitely. Here Jace, feel free take a look at my notes.”

A flash of light, and the parchment that Twilight had written her notes on appeared before her. She levitated it over to Jace, who grabbed it and peered at its contents.

“The calculations appear sound,” Jace mused. “But putting it into practice will prove to be more difficult than working it out in theory.”

“We’re prepared to do whatever it takes,” said Stygian. “Arzakon must be stopped.”

“You underestimate me, Cloakface,” said Liliana. “I’m more than eager to confront this Arzakon fellow myself.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Jace muttered. “That said, I can’t think of any other objections to this plan. Do you know where we’ll be going?”

“I think Stygian would be the best one to answer,” Twilight replied. “Stygian?”

“Of course,” said Stygian. “Arzakon will be found within the Well of Shades. There’s no time left to waste, so I’ll lead you there myself.”

“You go do that,” said Spike. “I’ll take care of the castle while you’re all away. I’ll shoot you a letter if something comes up.”

Stygian gave the others a nod, and began heading for the door. Soon the others followed, and they continued on their path to the final confrontation.

————————

With a name like ‘Hollow Shades,’ Liliana wasn’t expecting particularly bright and cheerful. Yet looking at it now, even she couldn’t have anticipated the darkness that hung over the landscape. Though it was broad daylight, she struggled to see more than a few yards in front of her. The entire town was an abandoned ruin smothered in shadow, with so much black mana choking it that it was practically made of black mana itself.

Liliana couldn’t help but smile to herself. Maybe this plane was worth visiting after all.

Stygian led the group to the center of the village, where a single well lay amid the deserted buildings. It was a simple structure, built from plain brown stone, with no decorations or markings that would call attention to it. By all appearances, it was simply an ordinary well.

And yet, the black magic that was pouring out of it was anything but. It was a powerful magic, and more than that a familiar one.

You are a fool to have come here. The Chain Veil is marked by him, and that mark will persist with or without him.

There it was again. That damned voice that had followed her across the multiverse for the better part of two centuries. Liliana furtively glanced around, expecting to see the Raven Man appear before her at any moment, but as always he remained elusive.

And then there was that pony, Stygian. Any being name like his had to have an affinity for black mana, and Liliana could feel it gathering around him the moment they had stepped outside the castle. Though he lacked any apparent strength, Liliana could tell that he’d constantly kept an ear out for the whispers of the darkness. He led the others toward the well, where they gathered around it in a circle.

“This is it,” said Stygian. “This is where we’ll find Arzakon.”

Applejack stepped forward and peered over the well. A blast of cold air erupted from its depths, nearly blowing her hat straight off her head. The sudden gust prompted a startled yelp as she jumped back, away from the opening.

“Ah got a real bad feeling about this, y’all...”

“Come on, AJ, we’ve totally got this!” Rainbow reassured. Liliana could see from the subtle shivers in her body that her confidence was only an act. “I-It’ll be no problem, trust me!”

The ground rumbled slightly. A very loud crack came from below.

“W-what was that!?” said Rainbow.

“Brace yourselves!” Pinkie called out.

And then, the ground gave way. A massive circular fissure surrounded everyone, cutting a hole into the seemingly-solid surface that they’d been standing on. Screams echoed around Liliana as everything fell, dropping straight into the black abyss, sinking deep into the earth.

Pain wracked Liliana’s body as she landed, buried in a heap beneath other, unfamiliar bodies. She stood up, shaking them off of her as she climbed to her hooves. It was an annoyance, but she’d dealt with far worse before. Besides, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

As she finally managed to climb up onto all fours, she was greeted by the face of Chandra staring down at all of them, her wings beating at her sides as she hovered.

“What? Did some of you just forget you can fly?”

“It happens more often than you’d think,” Twilight grumbled. She stood up hesitantly, then grouped with the others as they took in their new surroundings.

It was plainly obvious now that the Well of Shades wasn’t a well, and almost certainly was never intended to be. The interior of the chamber expanded into a room filled stone columns and archways. At the far end of the chamber was a single stone door, a large hole blasted through it with seemingly explosive force. Wisps of smoke-like shadows slithered their way out of the hole, covering the entire room in a thick black fog.

A grin crept its way onto Liliana’s face. This was where she’d find the Chain Veil’s master. This was where she could finally free herself of its suffocating grip on her soul.

Suddenly a sharp, terrible noise came from beyond the door. All the other ponies seized up at its cry, but Liliana remained resolute, staring into the darkness with piercing, predatory eyes. There was no force of darkness in the multiverse that could perturb her. She was what nightmares themselves feared.

First the demon’s shadowy claw emerged, its talons digging deeply into the stone. The rest of its body soon followed, pulling himself out as he stood to his full height. He was a gargantuan being, more than ten feet tall, barely small enough to fit beneath the chamber. Little tendrils of darkness danced from his skin as he glared, the air itself becoming thick and heavy, as thought it were suddenly hostile to all life.

A low chuckle escaped from Arzakon’s form. “I should have expected you would come here. And would you look at that? You even even brought a few new friends along. I will be more than happy to grant all of you the deaths you so desire.”

Liliana stepped forward, meeting the demon’s gaze. “And is that supposed to scare me? I’ve heard more intimidating speeches from a third-rate melodrama.”

Arzakon’s eyes widened for a moment, then focused their gaze on Liliana’s form. “Well, now... isn’t this an interesting development? It’s been a long time, Necromancer. I had always hoped for a chance to meet you myself.”

Pride swelled within Liliana’s chest. “Glad to hear my reputation precedes me.”

Then, something happened that Liliana didn’t expect. Arzakon laughed. A loud, rumbling, impossibly deep laugh that reverberated with every inch of the Well’s stonework. “You think I was referring you? Now that is the greatest jest I have heard in centuries!”

“Excuse me? How dare you—” A sudden epiphany caught Liliana’s words before they could even escape her throat. The demon had looked at her, but there was someone else with her, someone she carried with her everywhere she went. “The Raven Man. What do you know about him? Tell me!”

“I’m afraid that is not your place to know,” Arzakon replied, his voice dripping with smugness. “I’ll be content with keeping that secret to the end of your pitiful life. As you die by my hand, you’ll die knowing that it is one more thing I have that you do not.”

Liliana’s teeth clenched. How dare he? Then again, she wasn’t exactly expecting cooperation to begin with. Before she could respond, however, Arzakon sent out a necrotic pulse from his hand. She reacted in turn, sculpting the ambient shadows into a tendril of putrid magic. Both dark assaults collided with one another, and Liliana struggled to push against the hostile magic.

It’s not too late to escape. Forget the others, you can still save yourself.

“Quiet, you!” Liliana growled. She struggled to stand against Arzakon’s power as it pushed closer and closer to her horn. Just when it seemed like it would strike her down, a barrage of concussive magical blasts struck Arzakon from all directions, followed by an intense burst of fire. The demon’s assault ceased, and he stumbled backwards before righting himself.

“Now, Liliana!” Jace called out.

Just as Twilight had explained on the way there, Liliana channeled her magic through the leylines of the plane beneath her, the very mana that Arzakon drew from. Her body pulsed with black mana as it began to rise into the air, followed by Jace, Chandra, Gideon, and Nissa. Then, from each of them, a line of colored mana shot from them and towards Arzakon. The lines snaked and twisted as they ensnared Arzakon in their grasp, and the demon struggled mightily against the bonds that now surrounded him.

“W-what!?” Arzakon roared. “What is this!?”

“Pillars!” Stygian called out. “Now is our chance! Prepare the sealing ritual!”

Each one of the ancient ponies raised their artifacts into the air. Bright, blinding light emanated from each of them, cutting through the darkness like a knife. Called by their power, a hole in the fabric of space itself appeared behind Arzakon.

Then, a beam of light shot forward from each of the six artifacts presented by the Pillars. The beams converged into a single point, converging into a massive orb of light that illuminated every corner of the chamber. From the orb, a larger beam shot forward, steadily pushing Arzakon closer to the portal to Limbo. An ear-piercing shriek escaped the demon’s throat as his legs were drawn into the hole. Somehow he managed to grasp the portal’s edge with a claw, as though grabbing onto the very plane itself.

Arzakon’s eyes turned towards Liliana. “Y-you...! Wait! Don’t do this! I can help you! I can teach you how to tame the Chain Veil’s magic!”

Liliana’s pupils dilated. The magic that surrounded her began to falter, if only slightly.

“I know you seek to harness the Veil’s true power,” Arzakon continued. “Defeating me will not rid the Veil of its curse. Only I can show you how to control it. Join me, and I will teach you! Become my apprentice, and together we will rule the multiverse!”

And just like that, any interest Liliana had in the offer was shattered. Her lips twisted into a very nasty scowl.

“Sorry, Horn Boy. You must have mistaken me for someone interested in sharing.”

“No! Listen to me! No!” The light gave one final push, and Arzakon was sent barreling into the void. Without so much as a single noise, the portal then closed itself shut, leaving the shadowed planeswalker forever trapped behind it.

As Liliana felt the magic wane, she gently floated back onto the ground. Already, the darkness that had gathered within the Well was lifting. Despite the sinister construction and monstrous engravings, the chamber began to look more and more like the disgustingly saccharine plane she knew.

Twilight approached the rest of the Gatewatch, beaming. “You did it! My plan worked!”

“Hey, you underestimate us,” said Flash. “We took care of that monster with no problem.”

“But what exactly was Arzakon saying about the Chain Veil?” Meadowbrook added. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t like the sound of that.”

“Like I said, that’s none of your business,” Liliana countered. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“I think I do.”

Liliana’s ears swiveled towards the voice, a sensation that painfully reminded her just how wrong her new body felt. She turned to see Stygian glaring straight at her.

“You weren’t really interested in saving us, were you?” said Stygian. “You hoped defeating Arzakon would show you how to harness the Chain Veil’s power. That is, to harness his power.”

Despite the harshness in his voice, Liliana couldn’t help but smile at the accusation. It wasn’t a friendly smile, but it was still a smile. Stygian had proven himself remarkably perceptive, and the way his magic hovered just on the edge of darkness was truly intriguing.

“So what if I did?” said Liliana. “Your purple pony princess needed me for the plan to work, and thanks to me it went off without a hitch. I think you owe me some gratitude for that, hmm?”

Stygian’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I know darkness. And I know what is and isn’t a threat. You may not be a threat now, but should you become one, you will have the greatest heroes in all of Equestria to reckon with.”

“There’s no need to flatter yourself so much,” said Liliana. “All things considered, I’m disappointed that I didn’t get anything I wanted out of this little journey. I’ll be taking my leave now, so you can feel free to be as self-righteous as you want.”

WIthout another word, Liliana turned around and planeswalked away. Something told her she wouldn’t be missed that much.

————————

“It is an honor to meet you again, Your Highness.”

Beams of golden sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows of the throne room. There, standing before Stygian, were the same two ponies that Star Swirl himself had mentored so many centuries ago. They both sat tall on their seats, towering above even the largest of ponies. It was no wonder they had needed to spend such effort to distance themselves from any claim of godhood.

Behind Stygian, many other ponies gathered. The remaining Pillars of Equestria, the chosen bearers of the Elements of Harmony, and three ponies and one deer that had called themselves the Gatewatch. Twilight’s own personal dragon assistant had joined as well, eager for a chance to be included among the group, as had Sunburst and Starlight Glimmer.

“And you as well, Stygian,” said Princess Celestia. “I understand it must be a major adjustment to return after such a long absence. You are free to stay here in Canterlot for as long as you like. I’m sure Luna would be happy to explain things to you.”

“You should be fine as long as you read the instructions before using the microwave,” Luna added.

Stygian shared a confused look with the other ancient ponies. He decided the question was best left for another time. “I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, but I don’t think I can stay in one place. This realm has grown in so many ways, and I want to see for myself what has changed. I was always something of a wanderer, besides.”

Rockhoof stepped forward and placed a hoof on Stygian’s shoulder. Despite nearly knocking the wind out of him, Stygian couldn’t help but smile.

“And we will travel alongside you as well,” said Rockhoof. “The world we know may be gone, but we will always have each other. Isn’t that right?”

Stygian felt the warmth of his companion seep into his body. Looking back, he could remember all the times together, all the hardships, and everything that had brought them back after they were broken apart. The thought of it all nearly brought a tear to his eye.

“Yes... yes, it itis.”

————————

AR ~3,395 — Months After The Death of Star Swirl

A grey thundercloud rumbled over the graveyard as the funeral procession finished. It was a dark day in Equestria, and the pegasi had provided fittingly gloomy weather to match it. As the last of the mourners finally left, Stygian was left alone, the rain soaking his mane, coat, and tunic.

Despite his status, Star Swirl’s tomb was not an extravagant one, like the tombs of Equestria’s nobles. It was a simple building, no larger than a shed, with few markings and no labels, save for a single engraving on the entrance shaped like his cutie mark. Star Swirl had always believed that monuments to himself were unnecessary: his legacy would would instead be kept alive across the ages through his many teachings and studies.

The tomb had already been sealed by the time that the funeral ended. Stygian couldn’t bring himself to attend, not while the other Pillars were present. Instead he had chosen to watch from the shadows, keeping as much distance as he could from the others. He had already accepted that he would never belong with them.

Trembling, he approached the tomb, and placed a hoof against the solid stone door. It felt cold to the touch, devoid of any life or magic. He closed his eyes and felt a wetness trickled down his cheeks, one different from the ceaseless rain pattering against him.

“Stygian, honey? Is that you?”

The voice was soft, but broke through the silent rain with the force of a cascading waterfall. His eyes snapped open to see Mage Meadowbrook approaching him. Behind her were the others: Flash Magnus, Mistmane, Somnambula, and Rockhoof.

Stygian’s lips curled into a sneer. “What do you want?”

Meadowbrook turned around, looking briefly at the others, before turning back to Stygian. The pain was written plainly on her face, visible even in the darkest weather. Her ears splayed against her head as she spoke.

“We just wanted to say... we’re sorry.”

Stygian was taken aback. “You... you’re what?”

“We’re sorry,” said Meadowbrook. “We all thought you were trying to steal everything from us by taking our artifacts. But when Star Swirl died... I guess we all realized that the artifacts weren’t what really mattered. We could all replace them if we wanted. But you? We could never replace you. We didn’t have any good reason for hurting you the way we did. Do you think you could ever forgive us?”

Stygian’s jaw hung loose. It had been more than three years since they’d turned their backs on him, and he’d expected to spend the rest of his days never hearing from them again. But now, they were all here. They had all come, just for him. He had never expected it, yet somehow it was everything he could have wanted.

His body seemed to move of its own accord as he walked over, pulling Meadowbrook into a hug. Before he knew it, he was surrounded on all sides by all of the pillars, all holding each other in collective embrace. His companions. His friends.

“I forgive you,” Stygian whispered. “And thank you. Thank you all.”

————————

Stygian, Shadow’s Advocate WB

Legendary Creature — Unicorn Advisor

Lifelink

At the beginning of your upkeep, if you control another legendary permanent, you may pay 2 life. If you do, draw a card.

”I know secrets that are guarded by the world’s most vile dark powers. I share them so that the light may flourish.”

2/1

Author's Note

You may notice that when Arzakon says “Necromancer,” the word is capitalized.

That’s not a typo.

Unseen Tempests

NOTE: This chapter contains heavy spoilers for the My Little Pony movie, and mild possible spoilers for future chapters of the main My Little Planeswalker story.

————————

The early morning sun peered through the window, its light reflecting off the crystalline chambers to dazzling effect. It had been difficult to deal with the blinding display every day at first, but in short time Twilight had adjusted, to the point where it had become more jarring to sleep under a roof not made of reflective crystals.

After quickly making a detour to the kitchen to scarf down some buttered toast, Twilight returned to her room and began packing. She’d learned to travel light on her trips across the multiverse, as bringing anything more than a few small items in her saddlebags would cause them to disintegrate as soon as they entered the Blind Eternities. Extensive testing had shown that her planeswalker spark somehow extended an aura around her that protected inanimate objects traveling with her, but only when they had a very small total mass.

As she put the last of her possessions in the bag, trotted out the room and into the crystal hallways, making her way through the winding corridors to the staircase. Assuming she stuck to her usual routine, Spike and Starlight Glimmer would be in the dining room, having breakfast. Twilight’s assumption proved to be correct when she saw them both enjoying a meal of pancakes.

Starlight levitated a fork upwards, and took a large bite of something that was more syrup than pancake. “Good mowning Twiwight,” she said. Starlight swallowed the mouthful of food, and continued. “Heading out somewhere?”

“Yup!” said Twilight. “I’m heading over to Ravnica to visit the Gatewatch. I figure it’d be nice to surprise them.”

“Geez, planeswalking again?” said Spike. “I’m starting to think you’re spending more time on other worlds than on this one.”

“Don’t worry, Spike, I’m not going away,” she reassured. “I just enjoy having the opportunity to learn so much about other worlds. I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” said Spike. “I know you wouldn’t turn your back on us. Now if you’ll excuse me...” He suddenly grabbed the plate of pancakes and dumped the entire stack into his mouth, swallowing it all at once with a very loud gulp. His body shuddered in enjoyment as he rubbed his belly, and he let out a very loud belch.

Twilight stared aghast at the young dragon’s poor table manners. “Spike!”

“Sorry, can’t talk,” said Spike. “I promised Rarity I’d help her at the gemstone quarry today. Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He pushed against the table with his legs, and the chair slid back with a scraping sound against the floor. As he hopped off and ran towards the front door, he waved back at Twilight. “Seeya!”

“Alright, you have fun!” Twilight couldn’t be upset at Spike for long. No matter what, she felt like the luckiest mare in the world having him around.

“So I take it you’re heading out, too?” said Starlight. “I hope you at least had some breakfast first this time.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Twilight. “Just keep things running until I get back, okay? And try not to make out with your special somepony in the throne room.”

Starlight’s face turned bright purple. “H-hey, that was one time!”

Twilight giggled. “Relax, I’m only joking,” she said. “I’ll probably be back by tonight. See you later, Starlight!”

Twilight turned around, intent on making her way to the throne room. Though she could planeswalk anywhere, she found that the ambient magic of Harmony soothed her magical senses, greatly reducing the amount of mana she needed to travel between planes. As she took a few hoofsteps forward, she heard something fall to the ground with a “clink!”

Oh, horseapples.

“Huh?” said Starlight. “Hey, Twilight, you dropped something.”

Twilight immediately swiveled around to face Starlight. Her horrors were confirmed when she saw that a single potion bottle, labeled and capped with a sturdy cork, had fallen out of her saddlebags. The liquid contained within was a bright blue, fizzing violently as it rolled across the floor and to the feet of Starlight’s chair.

“W-what! No!” Twilight stammered. “I didn’t drop anything! There’s nothing there! Just pretend you didn’t see that!”

“Why?” said Starlight. “It’s just a potion.” Twilight felt all the hairs on her body standing up as Starlight levitated the potion up towards herself.

“H-hey, stop that!” said Twilight. “That’s extremely important planeswalking material!”

Starlight arched her eyebrow. “Why would you need a potion for planeswalking? Aren’t your spells capable of doing all of the magical things you’d need?”

Twilight recognized the curious look in Starlight Glimmer’s eye. It she had seen in Jace’s eye on many an occasion, and one that had no doubt appeared in her own just as often. Starlight wasn’t going to give up without an answer. With a sigh, Twilight finally relented. “It’s... it’s complicated. You know how I told you that most planes have those weird, nonsapient horses? And how humans like to ride them? O-on their backs, I mean.”

“Yeah,” said Starlight. “Why?”

“W-well, uh... that’s what that potion is for,” said Twilight. “For when I’m disguised as a human, and need to ride on horseback for whatever reason. It makes things, less... shall we say, awkward.”

“How exactly would a potion help with horseback riding?” said Starlight. As she spoke, her eyes slowly drifted over towards the potion’s label. “Hold on, I recognize this chemical name. Isn’t this an estrus suppress—”

“GIVE ME THAT!”

————————

After a very embarrassing exchange, Twilight was more than happy not to show her face to her former student for a while. Ravnica, thankfully, was a plane where nobody particularly cared about whatever awkward conversations she could get into. With the help of her illusion spell, she was virtually indistinguishable from any other face in the crowd. At least, aside from her clothes.

Locating Jace’s sanctum wasn’t especially difficult. Jace had given her a map of the teleportals that led to it, complete with a schedule detailing when each of them was active. She peered at the map, memorizing the location of the nearest teleportal, before stuffing it back into her saddlebag-turned backpack.

The map had brought her to a disused alleyway, just as most of the teleportal locations did. It was within the Eighth District, very far away from the Tenth, yet it was the closest to where Twilight had planeswalked. She gave a knock on the door, which was shortly answered by a very wide-eyed and very jittery Jace.

“Twilight! So glad you’re here! Good to see you!” said Jace, reaching out to grab her illusory hand. He grasped it with surprising strength and shook her in more ways then one. As his arm moved, it actually managed to vibrate, so much so that Twilight could almost feel it in both her real and false bodies.

“Whoa! Uh... you seem excited today.”

“Excited?” said Jace. Twilight had suddenly noticed that his teeth were chattering as he spoke. “Right, sorry. That coffee you gave me is very strong.”

Twilight flashed Jace a sheepish grin. “I’m, uh... glad you’re enjoying Princess Luna’s special blend. Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all,” said Jace. “You’re always welcome here.” He opened the door and motioned for Twilight to follow. As she entered, she dismissed her disguise, revealing her natural form as she passed through the teleportal.

————————

After taking a moment to calm down enough for the floorboards to stop vibrating when he stepped on them, Jace led Twilight through the apartment complex to the common room. Chandra, Gideon, and Nissa were all sitting at the central table, eating a meal as they approach. Gideon and Chandra both had fried eggs on their plate, as well as some other foodstuff Twilight didn’t recognize, wavy strips of something greasy and almost indescribably foul-smelling. Nissa, for her part, had been content with plate of fruit salad.

“Ah, Twilight!” said Gideon. “Good to see you! How have you been?”

“It’s... it’s been great,” said Twilight. Her nose wrinkled, the stench continuing to assault her senses until her eyes watered. “Gah! I’m sorry, but that smell is disgusting! Are you eating meat again?”

Gideon’s eyes widened, the grip on his fork beginning to loosen. “Ah. I’m sorry about that. I wouldn’t have made bacon if I knew you were coming.”

“Eh, bacon’s overrated anyway,” said Chandra, idly playing with a fork. “Shame it’s the closest thing you’ve got to a real breakfast food here. I’ll give it credit, though, the grease is great for burning stuff in a pinch.”

“Glad to see you still have a one-track mind,” Twilight teased. “So how have you all been doing?”

“Not a whole lot,” said Gideon. “I’ve been trying to find suitable tasks for the Gatewatch, but nothing major has come up so far. In the meantime, I’ve been doing my usual work assisting the Boros.”

“Same here, minus the Boros part,” Chandra added. “It gets awfully boring when you’re not doing big hero-y things. In the meantime, I’ve been trying to get Nissa to come out of her shell.” She turned towards Nissa and grinned. “You know, loosen up a little bit.”

Nissa pursed her lips. “This city is very large,” she said. “I can’t even begin to comprehend the scale. I don’t know how I’m supposed to connect to it when I can’t even make sense of this world.”

Ignoring the lingering smell of cooked flesh, Twilight flew upwards to Nissa’s side, and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Nissa. I know it’s not easy, but there are so many things in life worth learning and experiencing for yourself. You just need to trust in yourself, and the others who’ve helped you come this far.”

“Trust...” Nissa closed her eyes, drifting into a moment of deep thought. When she opened her eyes, she turned towards Twilight and smiled warmly. “...Yes, I think I understand that. Thank you, Twilight.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Twilight. “After all, isn’t that what friends are for?”

Nissa opened her mouth to reply, but before any further words could be spoken, there was the sound of a door being opened. Heavy armored footsteps fell on the floor, and Twilight turned to see Lavina briskly approaching Jace.

Lavinia’s eyes met Jace’s, glinting with rigid determination. “Guildpact, I have news that requires your immediate attention.”

“Another petrification?” said Jace.

“That is correct,” replied Lavinia. “Grand Judge Locutus IV was found petrified in his private chambers this morning. These assassinations are increasingly targeting more high-ranking members of the Azorius. If something isn’t done, I fear the consequences will be dire for all of Ravnica.”

Jace’s brow wrinkled heavily as he frowned. “Yes, I think I’m aware. I’ll look into it this afternoon. Is there anything else?”

“No, Guildpact. That is all.” As Lavinia turned to leave, her eyes were suddenly drawn towards Twilight. For a split-second, she received a glare from Lavinia that was absolutely murderous, one that spoke to her without a single word. More specifically, it said ‘if you make me deal with Jace on that coffee again I will kill you with my bare hands.’

“Sorry,” Twilight croaked, but by then Lavinia had already stridden out of the common room. It was only after she was gone that the conversation had finally caught up to her. “Wait, Jace, what’s this about people being petrified?”

“That would be the work of a gorgon planeswalker named Vraska,” said Jace. “She has a vendetta against the guilds, as well as any other authority on Ravnica.”

“Let me guess,” said Chandra, “she’s been screwed over by society and wants revenge?”

“That seems likely,” said Jace. “But if I’m going to be perfectly frank, I couldn’t care less about her motives. She’s threatened many lives to get what she wants, including mine.”

A sudden pang of recognition struck Twilight’s heart. Her wings became heavy as she descended back onto the floor, her eyes gliding away from Jace’s gaze. “...Small multiverse, huh?”

“You’ve met her, too?” said Jace.

Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. What you said just... reminded me of something else,” she said. “I think it’s time I told you about what I’ve been up to since we last met.”

————————

“...And that’s what happened.”

As Twilight finished telling her story, the other planeswalkers had become fully immersed in the tale, leaning forward to hear as much of it as possible. They had each taken seats around the table to better experience it for themselves. Seeing her friends enthralled by her recounting, Twilight couldn’t help but be reminded of the many oral traditions, both ancient and modern, that existed throughout the multiverse.

“Wow,” said Chandra, dumbstruck. “That sounded like one hell of an adventure.”

“It certainly was a rollercoaster going through it, let me tell you,” said Twilight. In the past she would have been shocked by Chandra’s profanity, but now it was so rote that it had become almost unnoticeable.

“I would have liked the chance to deal with this ‘Storm King’ myself,” said Gideon. He stopped, briefly, to rub his chin. “Actually, now that I think about it, why didn’t you come to us? The Gatewatch exists to defend the peace across the multiverse. We’d have been more than willing to help if you’d called us.”

“I’m sorry,” said Twilight, “I must have been distracted by the fact that we were “literally running for our lives the entire time.”

“You could have planeswalked,” said Chandra, prompting an angry stare from Twilight. “What? It’s true!”

“Yes, I could have planeswalked, but that would mean leaving my friends behind... although, I guess I did do that, kinda,” Twilight said, wincing. “But that doesn’t make it any better an idea!” she hastily added.

“There’s also one detail I’m wondering about,” said Jace. “You’ve shown me that you can teleport before. Wouldn’t that have made this Tempest pony much less of a threat?”

Twilight froze. “T-teleport?”

“He has a point,” said Gideon. “I imagine teleporting would be immensely useful against those petrification grenades. An attack is powerless if it can’t even hit you, after all.”

Twilight groaned loudly, wanting nothing more than to find a large, sturdy wall to bang her head against. “Teleport! Of course I could have teleported! Why do I always forget that I can do that? Ugh, I’m so stupid!”

Twilight felt a warm, steady hand rest upon her shoulder. She turned to see Nissa looking at her with deep, thoughtful eyes. “I know what it feels like to make a mistake. But I also know there’s nothing to be gained from dwelling on a past you can’t change. What matters is learning to accept what there is now.”

Twilight felt the tension in her body melt away at her friend’s touch. “Yeah... thanks, Nissa. I guess you’re right.”

“And things did turn out pretty alright in the end, didn’t they?” said Chandra. “It doesn’t even sound like anyone actually died. Well, I guess that Storm King, maybe, but he sounded like a massive jerk.”

Twilight winced. “I’m... not so sure about that, actually. I’ve talked to Princess Celestia, and she told me she was still conscious the entire time she was petrified. It’s possible the Storm King might still be aware of everything, even with his body in pieces.”

“Yeesh, that doesn’t sound pleasant,” said Chandra. “Might even be less pleasant than dying.”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “...Can we not talk about that right now?”

“Huh? Oh, right, sorry,” said Chandra.

“Personally, I’m impressed that you managed to convince Tempest to have a change of heart,” said Gideon. “You seem to have a knack for getting your former foes to join your side. If only things were so easy for us!”

“Hey Jace, there’s an idea,” said Chandra. “Gids has been looking for more Gatewatch recruits for a while now. Why don’t we get this Vraska person to join?”

“Absolutely not,” Jace replied tersely.

Twilight gave off an exasperated glare. “Jace, you have an actual necromancer on your team. If you can look past all of the horrible things she’s almost certainly done, you can afford to give Vraska a second chance.”

“I would have to agree there,” said Gideon. “All things considered, I think killing people is probably the least of Liliana’s crimes.”

“I... I already told you, that’s complicated,” Jace replied. “But recruiting Vraska is out of the question. I’d sooner have my mind wiped than ally myself with her.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. And Liliana’s better, somehow. I swear I just don’t get you sometimes.”

Before the conversation could continue, a door suddenly opened. Lavinia quickly made her way through the entrance and quickly walked up to Jace, her stony expression seemingly engraved upon her features with a chisel. “Guildpact, I will remind you that you have a meeting scheduled with the Orzhov representatives in one hour and thirty minutes. Have you made preparations?”

“Ah. No, not yet,” said Jace. “Sorry Twilight, but I’ll have to cut this conversation short. I have important matters to attend to.”

Twilight gave Jace a knowing smile. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Bureaucracy, am I right? I’ll see you sometime later!”

“And you as well,” said Jace. With a wave, he followed Lavinia out of the common room.

————————

It was a dark and stormy night. That itself was a cliche that had been overdone long before she was born, yet Tempest somehow found it fitting. She’d always had an appreciation for that kind of weather, and it felt all the more appropriate to name herself after it.

After the Storm King’s defeat, many of his minions remained loyal to her, enough to provide a full crew for her airship. It carried them across the rainforest, past dark and misty jungles that teemed with monstrous wildlife. The Western Continent was completely uncharted by Equestria, and unknown to the rest of the world. Tempest had found it in a fit of chronic wanderlust, hoping to find a place where she could leave bitter memories behind.

The airship landed outside of a massive city, with spires of gleaming silver rising tall above fortified walls. This was the capital city of the cuetzpali, a race of bipedal, feathered lizardfolk that had made the Western Continent their dominion. As the exit ramp unfolded, Tempest turned back, her eyes meeting her pudgy, hedgehog-faced minion.

No, not a minion. Grubber was something else. He was something different, and infinitely more valuable to her. It was strange, she’d never truly realized before how much he’d meant to her before. No matter what hardships Tempest faced, he’d always been there with her, right by her side.

“Take care of the ship while I’m away,” said Tempest. “I’m heading in alone.”

“You got it, boss!” said Grubber. “Be careful out there!”

The city was no less impressive within its walls, with a complex, grid-like structure of roads, buildings, and canals. Along the central road, the path led to an immense pyramid in the distance, the greatest symbol of the mighty Cuetzpali Empire. She ignored the perplexed stares she received as she made her way through the rain-soaked streets. Most cuetzpali had never seen a pony in their life before.

Her path eventually took her to a dark alley, in one of the city’s slums. A cuetzpali rogue with dark blue feathers had attempted to accost her on the way, but a fierce glare and a display of sparks from her horn had sent him running. She never intended to hurt him, of course, but seeing the terrified look on his face was worth more than all of the city’s silver spires combined.

As she further delved into the alley, she reached into the pocket of her jacket, and put on a pair of magical sunglasses she had made certain to carry with her whenever she visited the city. She and her benefactor met here every six months, and today was the next day they’d agreed to see each other in person.

Through the magical view of the sunglasses, the alley appeared even more darkened than it was normally, enough that Tempest could only barely see two feet in front of her. She cautiously stepped forward, then immediately stopped when something appeared on the edge of her vision, far into the darkness. It was a single pair of eyes, glowing brightly even in the shadow, with a mass of serpents illuminated by their sickly light. Even with the sunglasses’ protection, Tempest had instinctively tried to avoid meeting the gaze directly.

“Tempest Shadow,” a voice spoke. “It’s good to see you again. As usual, I have exactly what you need.”

An object flew outwards from the darkness, landing just before Tempest’s front hooves. It was a simple brown bag, its surface bulging from multiple spherical objects contained within, and tied with white string. As it landed on the ground in front of her, the string loosened, revealing the familiar glow of the exotic grenades. She wasn’t sure how the monster had managed to preserve her gaze in glass, and she wasn’t keen on finding out.

Tempest pushed the bag away, being careful not to spill or damage its contents. “Sorry Vraska, but I’m not here to purchase your wares. I’m here to tell you the deal is off. This partnership is over.”

The monster’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and a chorus of agitated hisses sounded from the depths of the shadow. “You say the deal is off, yet you still lack your horn. Are you telling me you’ve given up on your ambitions?”

“No!” Tempest blurted out. “It’s... it’s different than that, alright? This whole deal was a mistake. You don’t know what it is I’ve been doing. You don’t know how badly I’ve messed this up.... or who I was foolish enough to trust.”

“Perhaps not exactly,” said Vraska. “But I think I can make a guess. You were planning to use my weapons to usurp the Storm King. For you, he was never anything more than a means to an end. You would take his power the moment he was no longer useful to you.”

Tempest’s jaw went slack. “What!? H-how did you—”

“Don’t think you can hide who you really are from me,” Vraska spat. “I know you, Tempest, and I know you better than anyone on this world. I know because I have lived your life. Pushed away and cast into the fringes of society, looked down and spat on because of what I am. That’s why I want to help you, Tempest. I can give you the power to earn the respect you deserve.”

Tempest’s body tensed, and she met the monster’s eyes. Even through her protective gear, she could feel a tingling sensation overtaking her from head to hooves. “You’re wrong!” she shouted. “I... I thought nopony would accept me, but I was wrong! I have friends now! Real friends! I don’t need my horn for that, and I don’t need to turn ponies to stone either! So you can take your weapons and shove them!”

Silence hung over the alley, two sets of eyes locked together in an intense meeting of wills. Tempest could feel herself becoming numb, as though her body had been glued in place.

“How disappointing,” said Vraska. “And here I was, thinking you understood.” Without another word, the eyes closed, and the monster disappeared back into the darkness.

Tempest let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding in, and turned around to leave the alley, her entire body feeling like a limb that had fallen asleep. She made her way back through the city, hanging her head in silence.

As she approached her airship, Grubber came out to greet her. “Hey, boss! You’re looking kinda glum there. Everything okay?”

Tempest removed her glasses, looked up at Grubber, and smiled. “Yeah... everything’s fine. Come on, let’s go home.”

————————

Petra Grenades XX

Artifact

Petra Grenades enters the battlefield with X charge counters on it.

3, T, remove a charge counter from Petra Grenades: Put a stone counter on target creature. While that creature has a stone counter on it, it can’t attack or block and its activated abilities can’t be activated. Activate this ability only any time you could cast a sorcery. (Creatures remain stoned even after Petra Grenades has left the battlefield.)

Author's Note

So, the MLP movie was pretty awesome. It was suitably grand in scope for a theatrical production and had some entertaining new characters, and overall I think it was a decent story, not counting some minor nitpicks about previously-established characters seemingly forgetting their own abilities. The animation and set design was absolutely beautiful, and it was really incredible seeing how the characters come to life in a more fluid and detailed art style.

I’d had this idea ever since seeing the movie, based on a couple of character parallels I’ve noticed. The cuetzpali are an original species I’ve come up with for the purposes of this chapter, but those familiar with MtG may already have an idea as to their inspiration.

Unstability

Author's Note

In memory of Sir Terry Pratchett (1948-2015)

Unstability

It was an especially beautiful day in the city of Gear-Morcog. The smog was thin enough for the sun to shine through, the flowers were only half-wilting, and the even mechanical cheeps of clockwork birds were slightly less ear-grating than normal.*

It was then, in the midst one of the many grime-caked streets, that a great purple light began to shine in midair. The city’s passers-by paid no attention to the disturbance, as the most were all too familiar with the strange shenanigans of sorcery. Little did they know that it was not merely sorcery, but horsery.

With a sizzling pop, Princess Twilight Sparkle emerged into the plane of Bablovia, and in a manner most unbefitting of her title, crashed face-first onto the ground. Shaking off the sudden dizziness, she pulled herself to her hooves.

She was in a city, that much she could tell. Yet it was certainly not like any city she had ever seen. The buildings that surrounded the street were covered in all sorts of clockwork gadgets, whoozits, and thingamajigs, whirling and clicking as they performed functions that Twilight couldn’t discern. Standing tall above the buildings was a massive tower, with multiple mechanical shutters placed over brightly-lit panels, blinking as the shutters opened and closed in rapid patterns.

Strangest of all, however, were the people. There were humans, goblins, elves, and practically every other sapient species that most planes seemed obligated to have in some form.** That itself was not unexpected. What was unexpected were the ways in which they had seemingly modified their own bodies. Clockwork prosthetics were abundant, and none of them appeared to be strictly necessary for medical purposes, and some were so extensive that they had nearly replaced the entire body of its owner. Others were strange mashups of different creatures, combined in ways that didn’t seem the slightest bit evolutionarily plausible. And then there were the goblins, who were... well, goblins. The contraptions they carried were cobbled together entirely out of trash, and looked like they would give a nasty tetanus infection to anyone who wound up on the wrong end of their pointy bits. All the non-goblin pedestrians, naturally, tended to avoid getting too close.

Given the diversity of bizarre sights, it wasn’t a surprise that none of the passerby seemed fazed by the sudden appearance of a magical winged pony that looked like something straight out of a children’s picture book. Twilight, realizing nobody particularly cared about where she came from or what she looked like, decided to forego her usual illusionary disguise and skip straight to the fun part of exploring a new plane: finding a library.

Of course, never in Twilight’s entire planeswalking experience did exploring a new plane go smoothly. A slow dread bubbled up within her, well within the knowledge that something would go wrong before she returned to her home plane.

“Hey! You there!” that something called out to her.

With a groan, Twilight turned to see a human that she could have easily mistaken for a ratfolk on her home plane, pushing a large barrow down the street. Figuring she might as well get her misfortune over with, she trotted over to the man, her nose immediately assaulted by what appeared to be a large inventory of sausages.

“What do you want?” said Twilight.

The man smiled, his eyes sliding over Twilight’s body like a slick coat of grease. “Just wanted to get a closer look at you, that’s all. Does an adorable little thing like you have a name, by any chance?”

“It’s, uh, Twilight Sparkle. Listen, I’ve really got to get going—”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Twilight!” said the man, crouching down and forcefully grabbing Twilight into a combination handshake/hoofshake. “That name’s Bashro. While you’re here in Gear-Morcog, why not try one of my famous sausages? Cheapest prices on all of Bablovia! It’ll run you a mere three sprockets, and that’s cutting me own leg off!”

“Um.” Twilight glanced over to the barrow, despite the continuing protests of her nostrils. “Thanks, but I, uh... don’t eat meat.”

“Oh, I can assure you, Miss Twilight, these sausages ain’t got a lick of meat in them,” Bashro replied with complete honesty.*** He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of tongs, grabbing a sausage and placing it into a bun, before placing the sausage-inna-bun right in front of Twilight’s. “So, what do you say?”

Before she could even think to respond, the sausage’s aroma assaulted her nostrils directly, a smell so intense that it nearly forced Twilight’s upper intestine to strangle herself from within to spare her the misfortune. “Sorry, but I have to go! Like, right now!”

Twilight’s wings beat furiously, and she took to the air without another word.

*The Order of the Widget replaced Gear-Morcog’s birds with mechanical facsimiles† after the native population was wiped out by a nefarious plot involving a dragon, string cheese, one million teapots, and an entire paperclip factory.
**While these species are practically ubiquitous in the multiverse, Ponder’s Multiversal Law of Fantasy Settings states that only dragons are a constant on every plane.
***If anyone else learned what Bashro’s sausages were actually made of, it would immediately send every health inspector on Bablovia into a shared brain aneurysm.
†While mostly similar to natural avians in behavior and ecological niche, Gear-Morcog’s clockwork birds can only mimic chirping noises with a mechanism that scrapes a very sharp object against a tiny internal chalkboard.

————————

An aerial view of the city proved to be far more productive than searching on the ground, all things considered.* From here, Twilight could see that the city’s machinery was vastly more extensive than she had anticipated, the vast networks of clockwork contraptions joined together in a massive web of whirligigs and gimcrackery. Several more towers like the one she’d seen before periodically dotted the cityscape, spaced several miles apart, all of them spread from a larger central tower that easily dwarfed all of them.

It was there, as she surveyed her surroundings, that she saw what she was looking for. While she had to squint to get a clear view through the constant smog, what she saw was undeniable. The building, labeled with a sign showing a book and quill, was exactly the library she was looking for.

As she landed onto the sidewalk just before the front steps, she immediately plowed face-first into a large metallic object that had somehow escaped her notice. She turned up to see a old man, every part of his body save his head replaced with clockwork, dressed in what she could only assumed was a constable’s uniform. His body clicked and clanked as he leaned over, brandishing his baton in a manner most curmudgeonly.

“Looks like you was flying back there,” said the Old Guard, “you got yourself a permit for that?”

“A... a permit?” Twilight gulped, her mind flashing back to a rather unpleasant encounter with the local law enforcement on Ravnica. Just where was she supposed to obtain a permit for flying? (And being unblockable except by creatures with flying and/or reach?)

The Old Guard leaned over and eyed Twilight warily for another few seconds, before loudly standing himself upright again. “Yup, that checks out. You’re free to go, ma’am.”

“Huh?” Twilight blinked rapidly, staring as the Old Guard spun around, his treads turning with the spin of a crank as he wheeled himself away. “W-wait! What permit? I didn’t even show you anything!” But by the time she was able to articulate her questions, he had already disappeared into the street.

Twilight sighed, perhaps realizing that her question would not be answered here. With a shrug of her wings, she made her way into the library.

*Were the smog not thinner than normal that day, getting a bird’s-eye view would have been rather less productive.

————————

The interior of the library was quaint, far from the extravagant space she had come to expect from the massive archives on Ravnica or the elegant crystal structures of her own castle, but it carried a homey, lived-in atmosphere that made her feel oddly nostalgic. As she entered into the front door, the librarian — apparently human/cat/wasp hybrid — glanced at her through half-moon spectacles before turning back to the book she was reading.

Twilight soon found herself settling into the most routine of her routines, browsing the library’s catalogs for any and all information she could find. She learned of the Carta Scientia*, the oldest document on the plane of Bablovia, and how it shaped the plane’s political and social structure for centuries to come. She learned of the ways in which the different factions — the Order of the Widget, the Agents of S.N.E.A.K., the League of Dastardly Doom, the Goblin Explosioneers, and Crossbreed Labs — ruled the plane together in a pentarchy, and how the differences in their philosophies often brought them into opposition. She learned of the city of Gear-Morcog, a city nominally controlled by the Order of the Widget, but which frequently served as a battleground for inter-faction conflicts due to its favorable position as Bablovia’s largest trade center. She also, of course, learned many other things that were entirely irrelevant to narrative exposition.

Hours passed as she voraciously read through the entire library’s contents, naturally making sure to place each book in its proper location when she was finished. Just as she was nearly done reading the last untouched book in the library, her attention was turned to something large, orange, and hairy in the corner of her eye. She turned to look, and while far from surprised given what she’d seen on Bablovia, she still found herself slightly bewildered.

“An orangutan?”

“Oook.”

“Right, orang-utan. Sorry,” said Twilight. “Just where did you come from, anyway?”

The orang-utan rolled his eyes. “Oook,” he said, grabbing a very large, black book and disappearing around a corner. Curiously, Twilight followed, and found nothing but a dead-end corridor lined with bookshelves.**

Deciding it wasn’t especially relevant to her current interests, Twilight put the thought out of her mind, and turned to bid the cat-wasp-person librarian one last silent goodbye as she exited the building.

As she opened the door, Twilight was almost immediately accosted by a massive crowd gathered just outside of the street. Dozens upon dozens of people of all shapes and sizes were gathered around something that she couldn’t quite see. As she stepped forward slightly, she was just barely able to perceive the shape of Bashro, standing behind a makeshift booth carved from driftwood, selling miniature figurines of...

...of herself?

“Twilight Sparkle merch! Get your Twilight sparkle merch! Your own little horsey to take home, all for a measely twelve sprockets! At that price, that’s cutting me own leg off!”

Twilight felt her heart sink into her stomach. As she slowly backed away, a little human girl with a lion’s tail tugged onto the pant leg of a larger man with a lion’s mane. “Daddy, look! It’s a real Twilight Sparkle! Can I have it? Can I?”

Then, in one of the most horrifying several seconds of her entire life, the entire crowd went silent, slowly turning around to face her. As she stared into the massive crowd of covetous eyes, Twilight’s flight or flight response screamed at her at the top of its metaphorical lungs.

Before she knew it, Twilight was surrounded by a flurry of hands, claws, paws, and other appendages, each of them screaming as they grabbed and pulled at her wings and mane, in the desperate hopes that one of them would get to take her home. Pain shot through her scalp as one pair of hands ripped a chunk of hair out of her mane, and another shot of pain through the base of her tail as someone forcefully grabbed it with what she could only assume was a crab’s pincer.

Then, in a scream and the familiar rush of traveling through the Blind Eternities, Twilight found herself back in the equally-familiar environment of her own throne room. There, on the central crystal table, her faithful assistant Spike was playing a tabletop role-playing game*** with Big Macintosh. They both turned and stared as she blinked into existence beside them.

“Whoa,” said Spike, “you okay there, Twilight?”

Twilight spit out a clump of hair that had ended up in her mouth. “Could be better. Just remind me never to give my likeness to any merchandising deals in the future.”

*Otherwise known as the ‘Science Charter,’ Bablovia’s system of governance was intended first and foremost to promote the development of the sciences for the good of all. This being a fantasy setting, it wasn’t long before that science turned into mad science, with all of the dangerous and unethical practices it entails.
**Had she also known of L-space, Twilight likely would have started exploring the multiverse long before her coronation.
***Though Ogres and Oubliettes had long been their game of choice, they had more recently switched to Wayseeker after a very long argument over the new O&O edition that ended with both parties covered in cake batter.

————————

Twilight, Driver of Merch 3WU

Legendary Planeswalker – Twilight

+1: Create a 1/1 pink Horse creature token. Use a My Little Pony® toy to represent the token.
0: Offer another target player a fist-bump. If he or she accepts, you and that player both draw a card.
-3: Target creature becomes your friend for the rest of the game. (It can’t attack you and its abilities can’t target you or permanents you control.)
-8: You get an emblem with “At the start of each opponent’s combat phase, that opponent offers you a hug. If you refuse, creatures that player controls can’t attack you this turn.”

4

Golden Sun's Zenith, Part 2

If the Emperor’s palace could be described in a single word, it would be “lush.” The entire structure was massive, crafted from painstakingly carved stone, but the building itself paled in comparison to the multitudes of plants growing around it. Before the palace was a large, gated courtyard, where dozens of ferns and bushes were planted along the pathways, all of which surrounded a central reflecting pool. Beyond it was the palace proper, the walls of which were crawling with flowering vines that grew along specially-placed grooves in the stonework. Multiple holes were carved into the palace walls and ceiling, allowing dozens of trees to grow organically through the architecture.

As General Ihhuitl led the group through the courtyard, Celestia couldn’t help but marvel at the sights. The palace incorporated nature into its design in a way that was unlike anything she had ever seen. Tecoli seemed to take notice of this, and gave her a wide, toothy grin.

“Not bad, huh? This palace has been around for practically forever!”

Celestia returned the smile. Despite the cuetzpali’s obvious predatory nature, she already found herself more relaxed than before. “I will admit, it is quite impressive.”

“We are here,” said Ihhuitl. The group came to a massive set of silver double-doors just at the palace entrance, surrounded on either side by a pair of guards. Ihhuitl gave a nod to the two guards, and they stepped to the side, allowing the others through.

What happened next was very far from what Celestia had expected. Rather than opening the door with her own hands, Ihhuitl instead held out her right hand. There was a sharp shwing noise, and her body began to glow. A similar glow surrounded the doors as they suddenly then swung open.

Celestia blinked. What she had seen looked like magic, but it felt like nothing of the sort. In fact, it felt like almost nothing at all, barely skirting the edge of her magical senses.

Ihhuitl gestured for the others to follow and Celestia wordlessly complied. She shot Daring Do a glance, and it was clear that Daring Do saw the subtle unease written on her face. She motioned with a hoof and briefly touched the gemstone on her amulet.

Miss Daring, do you know what that was?

Daring Do raised an eyebrow. Um... that was magic, wasn’t it?

So it may appear, Celestia replied. But it is nothing like any magic I have seen. You would not have noticed since you lack a unicorn’s thaumatic sense, but what General Ihhuitl did left behind no perceptible magic aura.

Really? Nothing at all?

I’m afraid not. I couldn’t sense even the slightest hint of... Celestia paused, as her mind turned back to what she had experienced only a moment prior.

Something wrong, Princess? said Daring Do.

...I may have been mistaken. I think I did feel something just then. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

So what was it, then? said Daring Do. Do you have any idea?

Alchemy, Celestia replied. The magic of alchemy is very distinctive to a unicorn’s sense, as it operates on principles different from traditional spellcraft. It was difficult to notice beneath the aura surrounding her soldiers’ weapons, but spell Ihhuitl cast was undeniably alchemical in nature.

Daring Do’s eyes went wide. Her mouth opened, as if she were going to say something out loud, but quickly closed, as though she’d suddenly realized she was still communicating telepathically. But how is that possible? she said. I thought alchemy involved the creation of potions and artifacts. I didn’t think it could be used to cast spells directly!

Neither did I, said Celestia. So you can understand why I feel this is a worrying development.

Daring Do said nothing, her eyes trailing to the ground. Many things had undoubtedly weighed down on her mind, the same way they had weighed down on Celestia’s. One thing was clear above all: establishing a good diplomatic relationship was now more important than ever. The Cuetzpali Empire was capable of things that Equestria never would have imagined.

The group continued to make their way through the palace corridors, led by Ihhuitl’s soldiers. In the midst of her prior telepathic conversation, Celestia had barely even noticed just how incredible it truly was. Her guards (and one particularly obnoxious minotaur) all stared transfixed at the surrounding palace as they walked.

Rather than a simple building, the interior of the palace was more aptly described as an indoor rainforest. The hallways were surrounded on either side of the walkway with soil beds, from which grew plants of all shapes and sizes. Ferns, bushes, and flowers lined the sides of the floor, while tree trunks shot upward from the soil beds and formed a leafy green canopy that hung over every inch of the halls. Hundred upon hundreds of holes had been placed within the ceiling, some to allow the largest trees to grow through the roof, but others simply to allow the daylight to shine through. Beams of gentle sun pierced the canopy like many miniature spotlights, creating a beautiful display of warmth and light that dotted the halls.

Eventually, Ihhuitl led them to another set of doorways, this one considerably larger than the last, and crafted from gold rather than silver. Standing watch in front of it were four more guards, two on either side, but what was more interesting was the fifth cuetzpali standing between them.

The new cuetzpali was undeniably older than the others, his scales somehow managing to hold a slightly wrinkled appearance. Though he remained slightly hunched over, supporting himself with the aid of a small walking stick, there was an unwavering fierceness deep beneath his eyes. Draping his body was a fanciful green robe lined with glowing white markings. Similarly green and white feathers adorned his arms, though they were much thinner than other cuetzpali. Notably, the only feathers on his head were a set of scraggly feathers protruding from his chin, giving him the appearance of a beard.

At the sight of the elderly figure, Tecoli’s eyes lit up, and she rushed out to the front of the group to greet him. “Grandpa! Look who we found!”

A low, soft laugh escaped from the elder cuetzpali’s throat. “Glad to see you’ve been keeping our guests busy.” He turned to face Celestia with a twinkle in his eye. “You must be Princess Celestia, then. I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from your letter. Looking at you now, though... well, I’ve certainly not seen many feathers as beautiful as yours. Best be careful, or you’ll make this old man envious.”

Celestia felt a slight warmth on the edges of her cheeks. Though receiving centuries’ worth of flattering comments from foreign dignitaries had taught her how avoid being visibly flustered, she could never quite escape the strange feeling of hearing such remarks from other species.

“Thank you,” Celestia replied. “You would be General Xochitli, I presume?”

“That I would,” said Xochitli. His mouth showed something that looked like a smile, though it was difficult to tell through his reptilian features. “Sorry if I forgot to introduce myself. Things tend to slip the mind at my age, don’t you know.”

“It’s no problem at all, General,” said Celestia. “It’s an honor and a privilege to be here today.”

Xochitli let out a chuckle. “Easy there, Princess. You’ll want to make sure you have some flattery in you left for the Emperor. Let’s not keep him waiting, hmm?” He turned around, and held out his hand, and with a glow of alchemical power, the golden doors swung open. With a beckoning nod, he made his way through the entrance.

As Celestia and her companions followed behind, a subtle tension began to build within her chest. How she presented herself to the Emperor would forever determine Equestria’s relationship to the Western Continent. Despite the positive impressions she seemed to have left so far, her mind couldn’t help but wander to all the possible ways in which things could go wrong. Images of war and conquest flickered across her imagination, of a conflict so great and destructive that the world itself was cracked open like an eggshell.

A soft breath pushed past her nostrils. Though Celestia couldn’t quell the anxiety the anxiety within her, she knew that dwelling on the worst possible outcomes wouldn’t help. All she could do was work to represent her people as best as she could.

Whether that would be enough, only time would tell.

————————

Xochitli, Nature’s Glory 2GW

Legendary Creature — Viashino Soldier

Hexproof, lifelink

As long as you control a Dinosaur, Soldiers you control get +1/+1 and have trample.

We are the roots of the Southern Star, the seed from which the Golden Sun was born.
— Creed of the Verdant Soldiers

3/3

————————

Beyond the double-doors was a throne room, but it was quite unlike any throne room Celestia had ever seen. Much like the rest of the palace, vines, bushes, and trees freely grew on the walls, floor, and ceiling, but these plants were somehow even more vibrant and full of life than anything else. Dozens upon dozens of flowers that spanned the full visible spectrum sprouted across the greenery, their colors radiating off the sunlight that poured through the windows, to the point where they almost seemed to glow of their own accord. The path leading from the door was constructed with a pair of flowing, river-like channels engraved into the stone on either side. At its end was a large set of steps with a golden throne on top, a pair of guards stationed beside it, and surrounded on both sides by a pair of crystal-clear waterfalls. Yet despite the breathtaking scenery, what truly captured Celestia’s attention was the figure sitting atop the throne.

It would have been impossible to mistake Emperor Quetzalcoatl for any other cuetzpali, to the point where Celestia wouldn’t have even guessed he was the same species at all. His body was that of an enormous snake, at least twenty feet long by her first estimate. His brown scales contrasted sharply against the multitude of red, green, and white feathers adorning the crest on his head, as well as the giant pair of wings on his back. Multiple golden rings encircled his body, and a small, elaborate golden circlet wrapped across his forehead.

The Emperor smiled as the group approached, revealing a sharp set of fangs, the sight of which sent a slight tingle up Celestia’s spine. At the very least, they didn’t appear to be venomous.

Quetzalcoatl gave a short and remarkably high-pitched laugh. “Oh! Goodness! Here already? I’ve barely had time at all to prepare... Oh, but look at your wings! Beautiful! Truly magnificent!” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at Celestia. “Hold on, is that a stray bit of down I see? No, no, that won’t do. Feathers such as yours shouldn’t be tarnished like that. Guards! Give our fine guest a thorough preening!”

It took considerable effort to stifle the startled reaction that immediately came to Celestia’s instincts, and the end result was a hacking, muted cough. Thankfully, before the Emperor’s guards could give her a very intrusive grooming session, Xochitli stepped forward. The elder cuetzpali cleared his throat, instantly gaining the Emperor’s attention.

“Beg your pardon, Supreme One, but weren’t we supposed to have a feast prepared?”

“A feast?” Quetzalcoatl paused for a moment, only for his yellow, reptilian eyes to widen in sudden realization. “Ah! Right. A feast, how careless of me.” He turned to his right and glanced at the guard by his side. “We did have the Imperial Chefs prepare a feast, correct?”

The guard’s body seized up at the Emperor’s glance. He remained utterly silent, giving a forced, jerking nod.

“Good, good! Let’s get started right away. Oh, I do hope they’ve cooked up a fine serving of ceratops steaks, that would just be so delightful!”

Xochitli gave Quetzalcoatl a wizened smile. “Well of course they have, Supreme One. But for now, why don’t we let our guests introduce themselves? This is a very important moment in our mighty Empire’s diplomacy, after all.”

Quetzalcoatl blinked. He curled up the tip of his tail, tapping it thoughtfully against his chin. “Diplomacy... Right. I think I’ve heard that word before. That’s when you conquer someone with words instead of weapons, correct? I’m honestly don’t even know how that’s supposed to work.”

A new tension gripped at Celestia’s chest, as it became immediately apparent that establishing foreign relations with the Cuetzpali Emperor was going to be much, much more difficult than she anticipated. And yet, at the same time, a nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind. Quetzalcoatl seemed far too eccentric and scatterbrained to rule over an entire empire, yet everything she had seen of it so far suggested that it was running smoothly.

It didn’t take long for Celestia to puzzle out a likely answer. She recalled the way that Xochitli gently guided the Emperor’s part in the conversation without appearing to overstep his authority — and if Tecoli’s comments were to be believed, how both of the other serving members of the Council of Elements were directly descended from his bloodline.

Before she could ruminate any further, a very loud and gruff voice called out from her side. “Now you hold on a minute!” said Iron Will, pointing an accusatory finger at Quetzalcoatl. “If you think you’re going to go about conquering any of us, you are sorely mistake—”

Celestia’s front leg moved before she could even think, Iron Will’s words instantly cut off as a pristine white hoof jammed itself into his mouth. Celestia’s teeth visibly clenched, heat literally radiating off of her body as she seethed in barely-restrained indignation.

“Do. Not. Speak. Unless I say so. Do I make myself clear?”

Iron Will shuddered slightly, a muffled whine coming from his throat. “Mmff. Yeff, Your Highneff,” he said.

Almost immediately, Quetzalcoatl burst out into giddy laughter. “Oh! Oh, my! Such authority! Truly, you command power befitting of such beautiful wings! That means you must be the princess I was informed of! Good, good. I am Quetzalcoatl the Supreme, Lord of Wind and High Emperor of the Cuetzpali. Of course, you’d probably guessed that last part already.”

Celestia pushed a sigh through her nostrils and stepped forward. She forced a serene smile onto her face, never once showing anything that might betray her true emotions, and gave the Emperor a bow. “It’s an honor to meet you, Supreme One. It is my hope that we will establish a thriving relationship between our peoples.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll be sure to help you out with that,” said Quetzalcoatl. “This is where the diplomacy part comes in, I assume. General Xochitli, you’ve faithfully led my conquests for centuries. Would you mind explaining to me how to do to this?”

Xochitli laughed softly, though his gaze remained tempered with an ironclad resolve that Celestia had only seen in the world’s most hardened political leaders. “Well Supreme One, I’m afraid matters of diplomacy are quite complex, and I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain it all in a single day. Perhaps you should leave it to me for the time being?”

Quetzalcoatl paused momentarily, several different emotions briefly running across his face, as though his mind still trying to understand his own reaction. “Well, alright. I’ve put enough faith in you to trust that you’ll serve my best interests. Why don’t you go and meet with our dear princess and talk about... whatever it is diplomacy involves. I’ll go see our Imperial Chefs and make sure they’ve prepared a meal befitting this occasion.”

Quetzalcoatl stood up straighter in his throne, flaring his wings outwards. Suddenly, his body glowed with an alchemical magic powerful enough that Celestia could feel it even through the ambient alchemical energy of the Imperial Guards’ weapons and armor. Then, in a flash of light, he disappeared.

“Well, I believe that’s our cue,” said Xochitli, grinning eagerly. “Follow me, Princess. I’m sure we have a lot you want to discuss.”

Xochitli gestured towards the assortment of armed soldiers, and the group was hurriedly escorted out of the throne room. As they left, Celestia shared a worried glance with Daring Do.

So that was their Emperor? Daring Do mentally spoke.

That he is, Celestia replied. But whether he is their leader, we shall see.

————————

Past the many foliage-encrusted corridors of the palace, the group were led to a spacious room. Large, bioluminescent plants hung from the ceiling, with glowing, yellow, and fruit-like bulbs that gave each of them the appearance of a chandelier. A silver door on the other side of the room led to what was presumably the dining hall proper.

The group had already broken apart into small gatherings, with the Royal Guard mingling freely with the cuetzpali soldiers escorting them. Thankfully, it seemed that their initial trepidation had already begun to wore off, and seeing her guards grow more comfortable brought a smile to Celestia’s face. Ponies were always a deeply social species, sometimes all they truly needed was a chance to get to know others to connect with them.

Of course, that didn’t entirely lessen most of her concerns. As she took the effort to stand apart from the crowd, General Xochitli couldn’t help but notice. The elderly lizardfolk approached Celestia, his expression remaining unreadable.

“Your soldiers seem to be mingling remarkably well, General,” said Celestia. Her serene smile was calculated, a tried-and-true means of diffusing potential hostilities before they started.

“Hmm. Yes, indeed they are.” Xochitli cleared his throat. “Now, Princess, I’m sure you’re not here for pleasantries, so I’ll get straight to the point. As I’m certain you’ve guessed by now, the Emperor is not truly the one who runs the show around here. That responsibility lies squarely on my shoulders.”

A slight frown crossed Celestia’s lips, her eyes remaining level with Xochitli’s. “I see. And now that we are separate from the others, you wish to discuss matters of diplomacy.”

A grin cracked its way across Xochitli’s reptilian muzzle. “Well, formal diplomatic measures will probably take a lot more time to deliberate, but yes. For now, I want to alleviate your most likely concern. At the moment, I have no intention of expanding our military forces eastward. Your people, rest assured, are under no threat from our Empire.”

Celestia paused for a moment. Xochitli’s demeanor was gentle, but she could see the fierceness and determination burning just beneath his eyes, eyes of a being that had lived just as long as her, if not longer. “Your promise is noted, General, but you understand that I will need more assurance than your word alone.”

Xochitli gave a low, muted chuckle. “I’m far beyond the age for leading major campaigns of war and bloodshed, Princess. Besides, conquering the entire continent was never really the true goal. It was more of a... shall we say, personal matter on the Emperor’s part. So long as you don’t offend him, your people will be just fine.”

Celestia blinked rapidly, not completely able to hide her own surprise. “Are you suggesting your Empire conquered the entire continent over a simple grudge?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Xochitli wryly responded. “There were once other Elemental Lords much like Quetzalcoatl, each of whom ruled over their own people. To say they didn’t get along with each other would be putting things lightly.” He shook his head sadly. “The Supreme One never did recover from his psionic duel with the Lord of Earth. He survived, certainly, but his mind was never quite the same.”

“And you have taken up administration of the Empire in his stead,” said Celestia.

Xochitli frowned. “In the literal sense, yes. But don’t you get the wrong idea, Princess. I’m not interested in usurping the Supreme One’s power or undermining his authority. I serve the Supreme One as he was in his full glory, and govern his Empire just as he would have in his prime.”

“I see,” Celestia replied. The point didn’t need to be elaborated to her any further. The Emperor that Xochitli served was first and foremost a memory. Yet there still remained a question lingering on her mind, and her eyes briefly twinkled as they met Xochitli’s. “And you said something before about a psionic duel? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

“I had a feeling you would ask about that,” said Xochitli. “Psionics are a power that we have developed through centuries of exposure to the alchemical arts, allowing us to manipulate the elements without the need for potions or reagents. The many lordless tribes we encountered between conflicts believed it to be the same as their magic, and assumed it could be counteracted the same way.” Xochitli gave another smile, and from the now-closer distance Celestia could see that his teeth were in absolutely pristine condition, their razor-sharp points starkly contrasting with the frailty of his body. “They assumed wrongly.”

A sudden chill ran down the length of Celestia’s spine. More and more, it was looking like Equestria was even less prepared to deal with establishing contact than she’d anticipate on that. Her face remained stoic, though it was becoming more of an effort by the moment to maintain her calm demeanor. She quickly reviewed her options in her mind, deducing the best way to continue the conversation without arousing suspicion.

“Could you please elaborate on that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Princess,” Xochitli replied. Though his voice remained soft, there was now a slight edge to his tone, just barely enough to make sure that Celestia would notice. “I’ve done battle with both psionic armies and magical tribesmen, and I can tell at a glance which art defines your power. And I know that when they were outmatched, our enemies would try to control us through diplomacy rather than warfare. I have no interest in conquering the east, and neither would the Supreme One with his mind intact. But you’d best realize that you can’t fight against a power you don’t understand. The Empire’s destiny belongs to us alone. Don’t you forget that.”

Celestia inhaled sharply. Very few times over the course of her life had she been directly threatened in such a manner, and only ever when faced with world-threatening monsters and villains. In such circumstances she could always offer a swift verbal rebuke, as anything that so brazenly threatened her would face swift retribution by the forces of Harmony.

Yet here, that was not an option. This was a matter not of villainy, but of something vastly more dangerous to the world. This was a matter of geopolitics.

A twisting, burning sensation welled up within her chest, and Celestia began to realize how difficult it truly was to restrain the sudden indignation building within her. Sure, she had felt a great number of negative emotions throughout her many years of living. Frustration, annoyance, disappointment, and exasperation were unavoidable, and she’d learned to conceal those well enough to maintain her regal appearance. But anger, real and genuine anger, had been an exceedingly rare experience in her lifetime. Sure, most of those she’d directed it towards were deserving, like the evils she had confronted to protect Equestria (and more recently, the bumbling of a particularly clueless minotaur.) But others were ponies she cared about deeply, ponies who in turn cared about her. Sunset, Twilight, and even her own sister — all had, at some point, been hurt by her anger. And now, standing before the de facto leader of an overwhelmingly powerful empire, millions more could stand to be hurt by a single comment out of line.

A short breath pushed itself past her lips. “I will keep that in mind.” There were many more things she wanted to say, and none of them pleasant.

Xochitli gently laughed to himself, and Celestia couldn’t tell how much of it was at her expense. “Glad to hear, Princess.”

“Grandpa! Over here!” Tecoli’s voice called from the distance, and Celestia turned her head to see her standing in a circle of her guardsponies, all of which appeared to be listening to her intently. “Come on, grandpa! These ponies want to hear a story! Why don’t you come and tell them the one with the plesiosaur? That’s a fun one!”

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me twice,” said Xochitli. As he turned to approach his granddaughter, he looked back and gave Celestia a knowing wink.

As the elderly general walked away, Celestia closed her eyes and gave a breath through gritted teeth, her mind still filled with images of the many ways the interaction could have gone wrong. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice another pony approaching her.

“You okay, Princess? You look pretty stressed out.”

Celestia’s eyes jolted open, and she turned to see her Daring Do staring up at her, her brow wrinkled in concern. Looking down at her traveling companion, she could already feel the tension melting away. “It’s alright, Miss Daring. I have a lot on my mind right now, as you can imagine.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s not every day you deal with things like this,” said Daring Do. “Listen, if you ever need somepony to talk to, I’ll be right here. You know just how to reach me.” With a smile, she gestured to the amulet hanging around her neck.

Celestia felt the corners of her lips gently curving upwards. “I’ll be sure to remember that. And thank you.”

————————

The dining hall, to Celestia’s surprise, contained far less greenery life than the rest of the palace. Though the stonework walls were just as intricate as ever, decorated with intricate painted reliefs of the Empire’s armies, the plants had been kept to potted decorations in the corners of the room. The intent, Celestia surmised, was to ensure proper hygiene by keeping them away from the dining space.

The table was already set by the time that they approached. It was a massive jade object smoothed to a blinding polish, surrounded by almost three dozen chairs of similar make. Though she lacked the expertise to describe the differences in full, Celestia noticed many details in the furniture’s construction that distinguished them from the rest of the palace — subtle differences in the angles and shapes that set them apart, and that was saying nothing of the fact that they were the only jade objects that she had seen in the entirety of the building.

At the end of the spacious room, a door led to what was presumably the kitchen. Through it, the voice of Quetzalcoatl echoed, loud and piercing.

“Yes, I said rare! What part of that is so confusing to you?”

“We, ah... just wanted to make sure we know exactly what you want, Supreme One,” another voice responded.

“Good,” Quetzalcoatal huffed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, our guests should be arriving soon. And don’t forget what I told you!”

Quetzalcoatl’s massive form quickly slithered out the doorway, approaching the table. His eyes gleamed as he saw Celestia’s group gathering by the dining room entrance.

“Oh good, You’re here! Go ahead, have a seat! Our meal will be served shortly.”

Celestia glanced with the rest of her traveling companions, seeing her own guards shifting uncomfortably. Though she shared their apparent unease, the outward appearance she projected remained unperturbed. She turned to see Quetzalcoatl taking his place at the largest chair, positioned at the table’s very end. As he sat, he gestured with a wing to the table directly to the right of himself.

Celestia forced her lips upward into a gracious smile, taking the seat that had been offered. Soon every space at the table had been filled; just across from her was Xochitli, and to her right was Daring Do. The other spaces closest to Quetzalcoatl were taken by Iron Will, Ihhuitl, and Tecoli, with the others further down occupied by her guards and Ihhuitl’s soldiers.

When everyone had finally taken their place, Quetzalcoatl very loudly cleared his throat, with such a volume that Celestia’s left ear reflexively folded against the back of her head. She ignored the newfound ringing in her ears as Quetzalcoatl began to speak.

“So, Princess, what can you tell us of your proud nation? I’m quite eager to learn more about your people.”

Celestia looked the feathered serpent in his eyes. Beneath the Emperor’s slit-like pupils flickered an emotion that she couldn’t fully grasp, too chaotic in its fluctuations for her to identify. She took a deep breath, pushing aside the fog of anxieties that began to creep into her mind.

“Equestria has a very long and storied history,” Celestia responded. Though her speech flowed with a natural rhythm, her words were chosen carefully and deliberately. “We were once a divided land, driven to strife and conflict among each other. Now we are united as one people, and the many different ponies of our nation live together in harmony.”

Quetzalcoatl giggled in a way that sounded a bit too much like one of Celestia’s squeaky bathtub toys. “Impressive! You must be quite the inspiring military commander to have brought them all under your banner. I’d like to hear the tales of your conquests someday.”

Celestia’s eyes went wide. Within her own mind, her thoughts were drowned out by the sound an intense, frustrated scream. “Ah... Well, that’s not exactly—”

The gentle tinging of a bell sounded from just outside the room, abruptly cutting Celestia off. From the kitchen doorway, an entire host of cuetzpali came marching through, carrying with them a vast assortment of dishes on silver platters. The smell that crossed Celestia’s nostrils alerted her to the nature of the meal long before she could get a close look, and her immediate suspicions were confirmed when a servant placed a large slab of unidentified meat before her, slathered in a rust-colored sauce that smelled distinctly of iron. Soon the entire table was set, each space occupied by the same dish. Largest of all was Quetzalcoatl’s, a piece of meat so large that it required four servants to carry the massive plate to him.

Though the sight of a such a meal was by no means unfamiliar to Celestia, the same could not be said of her guards, whose reactions ran through the entire spectrum of disgust and horror. At the edge of her peripheral vision she caught the sight of an unfortunate guard bolting out of the room. She didn’t need to guess what happened next, judging by the loud, squelchy gagging noise coming from beyond the hall.

Despite the sting of pity for the unfortunate pony, Celestia couldn’t help but feel a twinge of amusement as well. There was a time, not too long ago from her own perspective, when ponies weren’t so particular about their diet.

The amusment didn’t last, as a more pressing matter made itself apparent. Namely, the fact that there was no apparent silverware provided. Looking around the table, she saw that the cuetzpali were each tearing apart pieces of their meal with their bare hands, spearing chunks off with claw-tipped fingers and popping them into their mouths. Iron Will, lacking such claws, had instead opted to hold the slab of meat with both hands and take a giant bite out of it.

Then, directly to Celestia’s right, there was the sound of slobbering, smacking jaws, so loud that it nearly startled her out of her chair. She turned her head around to see Daring Do leaning over her food, burying herself face-first into the meal.

All at once, the entire room fell quiet, save for the sound of her chewing. Everyone else simply stared, and even the cuetzpali seemed shocked. With a loud gulp, Daring Do swallowed a mouthful of flesh, and met the sea of eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“What? I lived in Griffonstone for three months. What do you think they eat over there, broccoli?”

A silence hung over the dining hall. Celestia’s guards exchanged a series of uncomfortable glances. Then, out of the nowhere, Xochitli cleared his throat.

“Supreme One, if I may make a suggestion? Perhaps next time we should afford our guests a more vegetarian option.”

“And why would I do that?” Quetzalcoatl huffed. “These ponies seem to be able to eat meat just fine! Besides, how could anyone not adore this fine cuisine?” With a blindingly swift motion, he speared the end of the meat slab in front of him with his tail, tearing off a small chunk and popping it into his mouth.

Quetzalcoatl’s eyes bulged. A grimace crossed his face as he swallowed, and he followed it with a dry, hacking cough. “Chef! Chef! Come in here at once!”

Daring Do shot Celestia a glance, and tapped her amulet. Hold on, isn’t ‘chef’ a Prench word? How do they even know what that is? She paused briefly, and her eyebrows scrunched in deep thought. Come to think of it, how is it they speak Equestrian at all?

Celestia blinked. For as long as she could remember, Equestrian had always been the dominant spoken tongue, to the point where nearly every being in the world spoke it as their second language, if not their first. It was also a remarkably static language, existing almost entirely unchanged throughout her entire life, even in the times when Old Ponish was the written language of the scholarly caste. And here, in a land that evolved completely separate from anywhere ponies had traveled, it remained the common tongue.

A very good question, but likely not one we should worry about right now, Celestia replied. She would leave pondering the mysteries of the world to Twilight.

The subject was dropped when the door burst open, and a cuetzpali dressed in fanciful white robes rapidly strolled out. His body shook as he stood by Quetzalcoatl, the Emperor’s eyes bearing down on him with tremendous weight.

Quetzalcoatl gave a sharp, piercing hiss. “This steak. It is undercooked. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“B-but Supreme One!” The chef pleaded. “You ordered your meal rare!”

“Wha.... buh.... rare?” Quetzalcoatl sputtered, spraying droplets of saliva across the face of the unfortunate cook. “Do you have any idea how common undercooked meat is!? You can find it on the bones of any dead animal!”

“C-common? Supreme One, we thought—”

Before the chef could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a bright flash from Quetzalcoatl’s eyes. Almost immediately he dropped to his knees, his eyes bulging and his jaw hanging loose. As Quetzalcoatl’s eyes burned with alchemical power, a whirling sphere of powerful wind began to engulf the chef’s head.

Celestia watched in utter horror as the chef began furiously clawing at his own throat, eliciting a painful, wheezing gasp. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as the air was forcibly expunged from the cuetzpali’s lungs, the swirling currents creating a vacuum that sucked out any breath he took.

“No!”

Her cry was loud enough to echo off the stone walls of the dining hall. There, in a single moment, her facade of a stately composure shattered. The glow in Quetzalcoatl’s eyes faded, leaving the bedraggled chef to scurry away as the Emperor turned to face Celestia.

“Hm? What is it?”

Celestia coughed into her hoof. “I said, so... are there any particular places of note within the city of Atlazan? I’m sure my guards would appreciate a chance to see some of the sights for themselves.”

“A tour, eh?” said Quetzalcoatl. “Yes, I think I like the sound of that. I think I have an idea... General Xochitli?”

“Yes, Supreme One?”

“I want you to arrange a tour for tomorrow morning. Show our fine guests the wonders of my magnificent empire! Then when the tour is finished, you can all take them to see the majesty of the Golden Sun!”

Xochitli’s eyes went wide. “The... are you certain, Supreme One? The Sun Temple is a sacred place. It’s not to be visited by just anyone.”

“I know that!” Quetzalcoatl snapped back. “But these guests aren’t merely anyone! Their very presence here may well usher in a new era for the Empire! Now, are you going to obey me, or not?”

“Ah... yes, of course, Supreme One,” Xochitli responded. “I’ll make arrangements for a tour of the city tomorrow. I’ll instruct the guards of the Sun Temple to let our guests in.”

“Good, good,” said Quetzalcoatl. “I’ll have my servants prepare bedchambers for our guests in the meantime. Tomorrow you can show them the many fine things that Atlazan has to offer.”

“As you wish, Supreme One,” said Xochitli.

As Celestia watched the conversation unfold, she turned to face Daring Do, her lips curving into a pointed frown. She touched the gem on her amulet as her eyes met her companion’s.

It seems we’ll be getting a glimpse of their sacred artifact. Is there anything else you know about the Golden Sun?

Nothing that I haven’t told you, said Daring Do. It’s supposed to maintain the prosperity of the Empire, but I’ve no idea how it would do that.

I believe I may already have an idea, Celestia replied. But we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see for ourselves.

Daring Do shifted slightly in her seat. I don’t know why, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this...

————————

Today was a good day to be a villainous mastermind.

He had remained in the shadows since his return to the Western Continent, hiding beneath the attention of the ponies he stowed away with. He had skulked his way past Atlazan’s many cuetzpali, eventually making his way into the Emperor’s palace.

Now, as he clung to the ceiling, he watched as Quetzalcoatl conversed with General Xochitli. The sight of the old fool brought a burning tension to his chest. He had worked so hard to earn the Empire’s favor, to attain the power he truly deserved, and the nepotistic scum had ensured none but his family could ever rule.

But it didn’t matter in the end. He’d returned after so many years, to finally set things straight. And as the conversation turned to the Golden Sun, he saw a perfect opportunity present itself. Not only were both of his lifelong nemeses present, with the right approach he could end them both in a single fell swoop.

A large, toothy grin formed on Ahuizotl’s face. Tomorrow he would obtain everything he could have ever wanted.

————————

Evade Notice U

Instant

Target creature gains hexproof until end of turn. If you cast Evade Notice during your precombat main phase, that creature can’t be blocked this turn.

What you don’t know will kill you too quickly to hurt you.

Author's Note

Welp, this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, so much so that I actually had to split it off. You’ll see the conclusion of this particular story in part 3... and you may have already guessed where I’m heading with it. :raritywink:

Golden Sun's Zenith, Part 3

Celestia woke up to the sound of Daring Do’s voice.

Well, no, actually. Not a sound, she realized. It was a message projected into her consciousness, skipping past her ears and entering directly into her mind. She groggily arose from her bed, pulling herself free from the world of dreams. She vaguely recalled hearing Luna’s giggling just before she awoke, and briefly wondered what embarrassing prank she’d been victim to in the dreamscape.

Hey, Princess? You awake? Come quickly, I found something!

Celestia let out a yawn, rubbing the last bits of sleep residue out her eyes. The room she was staying in was luxurious, if far from what she was used to, with the flora that permeated the rest of the palace forming a carpet-like covering of grass on the floor. Her bed was crafted from stone, with a mattress crafted from unknown material and a blanket woven from great colorful feathers. By the side of the bed was a stone bedside table, with a large yellow mushroom growing from a flowerpot whose biolumenescent glow could be switched on and off with a simple press of the cap.

As she lowered herself onto the ground, Celestia’s horn lit up with magic, and she grabbed her crown, necklace, and anklets from a nearby shelf and carefully placed them on. The amulet of telepathy she had worn to sleep, of course, and she could still feel its gentle magic as Daring Do prodded at her mind.

Come on, Princess, what are you waiting for? It’s important!

Celestia sighed, and tapped on the amulet’s gem. Miss Daring, I wore the amulet to sleep in the case it would be needed for a life-threatening emergency. You cannot hide your emotional tone in a telepathic message, and I can tell from your lack of panic that you are not in danger.

What? That’s... that’s ridiculous, you don’t know that.

Are you in danger, Miss Daring?

Well, no, but—

Then you understand why I am not in a hurry. My duty necessitates that I awake very early, and the length of my daily tasks ensures I have less time for sleep than most other ponies. Now that I’m no longer needed to raise the sun, I intend to get as much sleep as possible.

Yeah, well, it’s kind of about that, Daring Do replied. The sun, I mean. You know how it keeps moving across the sky in this hemisphere even though you’re not here to guide it? I think I may have found out why. Well, sort of. Come to the palace library and I’ll show you.

The last vestiges of drowsiness began to evaporate from Celestia’s mind. That did sound like something she wanted to know. I see. In that case, I’ll be there in a moment. Just give me some time for my morning preparations.

I’m pretty sure they don’t serve cake for breakfast here, Princess.

Celestia’s eyes went wide. What!? How did you— I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

————————

The library was somewhat less covered in plants than the rest of the palace, though that didn’t mean that there weren’t plenty of bioluminescent fungi and flowers to provide proper illumination. Stone shelves lined the walls, each packed with codices that took the form of long, accordion-folded sheets. Stone signs with pictograms labeled the shelves, though what each pictogram symbolized, Celestia couldn’t quite recognize. In the central area of the library was a series of long tables, with potted lamp mushrooms serving as light sources. At such an early hour the library remained empty, save for a single cuetzpali sitting at a stone desk near the front, who eyed Celestia warily as she entered.

At one of the central tables sat Daring Do, who had an especially long codex unfolded and laid out on the table as she examined it with curious eyes. As Celestia approached, she looked up, sporting a large, excited grin.

“Glad you could make it,” Daring Do spoke softly. “Check out what I found!” With a motion of her hoof, she pushed the codex closer and pointed to its contents.

Celestia sat down across from Daring Do, and peered closer at the codex. What she saw was not anything resembling a book or scroll in Equestria, but a series of elaborate pictograms drawn in colored ink. She squinted, some part of her hoping that it would help her comprehend, but ultimately remained baffled by the unfamiliar method of recording information.

“...I see,” said Celestia. “Do you know what it means?”

Daring Do shook her head. “Not precisely. From what I’ve seen, the cuetzpali don’t seem to have a traditional written language. All of their recorded information takes the form of pictograms and ideograms. As you can imagine, it’s extremely difficult to translate. But take a look at this.” She pointed her hoof at a pictogram near the center-left of the page. “If what I’m seeing here is accurate, then Commander Tempest may not have been the first pony on the Western Continent.”

The pictogram was an elaborate drawing of an ovoid stone, engraved with a single, glowing green-blue eye. Another pictogram was beside it, that of a cuetzpali dressed in priestly garb holding the stone, and a second cuetzpali kneeling in supplication. A thin, green ribbon of light was depicted emerging from the kneeling cuetzpali’s head, vanishing into the stone.

Then, finally, there was a third pictogram, that of an earth pony mare with an ash-grey coat and black mane, and a cutie mark of a twisted, thorned miasma of magic that vaguely resembled a claw. The mare was depicted in a galloping pose, with the stone perched atop her back.

Celestia’s eyes widened at the sight. “Impossible. Sifa Grent?”

Daring Do raised an eyebrow. “You knew this pony?”

“Not personally, thank Epona,” Celestia replied. “My old mentor taught me of her. Sifa was an evil sorceress of unfathomable power, and the archnemesis of Clover the Clever. Seeing her here in a historical codex is... worrying, to say the least. If this artifact was truly stolen by her, there is no telling where it may be today.”

“I’ll add it to my list of relics to look for when we get back,” said Daring Do. “But that’s only the beginning of what I’ve found. Check this out.”

Daring Do motioned to another page. On it was a series of pictograms depicting four figures. The first was the same winged, feathered serpent as Quetzalcoatl, though the image depicted a much more focused glare beneath his eyes. The second was an image of an aven, a winged birdfolk with the beak and plumage of a hummingbird. He possessed bright red and green feathers and wore a pitch-black robe; in his left hand he brandished a staff in the shape of a serpent, the end of which was wreathed in blistering flames. The third was a jaguarfolk with black, green, and blue spots, with a large mirror embedded in his chest and a tree branch replacing his right leg. Finally, there was a massive beast with an elongated, canine snout, large goggled eyes, sabertoothed fangs, ape-like forelimbs, dog-like hind limbs, and a prehensile tail. His fur was pitch-black, with light blue fur on his stomach, jaws, and hands. Lime-green, fishlike fins grew out from his back, tail, elbows, and ankles.

“You remember how Quetzalcoatl said he was the Lord of Wind?” said Daring Do. “These are most likely the other Elemental Lords. And take a look below.”

Celestia’s eyes turned further towards the bottom of the page. Below each of the Elemental Lords was an image of another figure. Below Quetzalcoatl, there was an image of a single cuetzpali, and below the winged aven was an image of a smaller, wingless hummingbird aven. Below the jaguar was a catfolk not unlike the kind seen in the distant land of Abyssinia, though with far more pointed, lynx-like ears. Finally, below the goggle-eyed beast was a beast of similar shape, only it lacked the fins and sabretooth fangs, and had both a hand on the end of its tail and smaller, beadier eyes that were closer to its nose. Large arrows pointed from the Elemental Lords to each of the smaller figures, the interior of each arrow containing intricate patterns that Celestia recognized as alchemical markings.

“Now, this is just a hypothesis so far, and there are several other ways that this image might be interpreted,” said Daring Do. “But if I’m right, this is depicting the Elemental Lords teaching the practice of alchemy to each of their chosen peoples.”

“That sounds like a reasonable explanation,” Celestia replied. “Without magic of their own, the peoples of this continent would need another way to keep the cycles of nature flowing.”

“Exactly,” said Daring Do. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit worried about Mr. Googly Eyes’s chosen here.”

Celestia took a look at the goggle-eyed Lord, and the similar, finless figure depicted below. Aside from the bizarre appearance, nothing about either especially struck her as notable compared to the other pictograms.

“Might I ask why that is, Miss Daring?”

Daring Do shot Celestia a disbelieving stare. “Um, hello? Did you look at either of them?”

“My eyes are as functional as yours,” said Celestia. “I simply don’t know what it is you’re expecting me to see.”

“Oh come on!” said Daring Do. With every breath, she noticeably struggled to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a library. “There’s no way you couldn’t—” She paused, her words suddenly cutting off by an apparent moment of comprehension. Her eyelids narrowed as she glared at Celestia even more intensely than before. “Oh, I get it. This is one of your pranks, isn’t it? No offense, Princess, but this really isn’t the time.”

Celestia blinked. “Pranks? I assure you, Daring Do, I’m being completely serious. If there’s something about this image you understand that I don’t, I’d prefer if you were straightforward with me.”

“You really don’t see it?” said Daring Do. “How they both look like Ahuizotl?”

Celestia paused. Something in the back of her mind stirred, but she struggled to make it out beneath the fog of her vast centuries of memory. “Ahuizotl... I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before. Who is that, if I may ask?”

“Ahuizotl!” said Daring Do, now only just barely keeping herself from shouting. “You know, dastardly villain? Steals artifacts? Obsessed with power? Has come within a hair’s breadth of killing me at least a dozen separate times? How have you... you...” Her voice trailed off into nothing. Daring Do’s pupils visibly dilated beneath the fungal light as she came to a sudden understanding. “Oh dear Celestia, you’ve never actually read any of my books, have you?”

“I’m afraid not,” Celestia replied. Already, she could feel her lips curving upwards into a grin. “I’m a very busy pony, after all. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I’m not sure how you think praying to me will change that.”

“Praying?” said Daring Do. “What are you—”

Celestia’s grin widened even further. Then, in a single moment, Daring Do’s eyes bugged out so much that Celestia could hear the sound of glass shattering through their telepathic link.

“Ack, nonono! That’s not what I meant! It’s just a figure of speech, honest!”

It took all of the self control Celestia could muster to stop herself from bursting out into laughter on the spot. As it was, she managed to keep herself just quiet enough for a brief bout of muted snickering.

Daring Do brought a wing to her face, a prolonged groan escaping her throat. “Glad you’re having fun. Can I continue?”

“By all means.”

With one final roll of her eyes, Daring Do shifted the codex, bringing another page to the center of Celestia’s gaze. There, depicted on the parchment, was an image of the four Elemental Lords. Each of them looked to the sky as a massive winged being descended, with the body of a lion and the face of a pony with a great blue beard. Then, in another series of sequential pictograms, it bestowed upon the Lords a golden orb. As they received it, each of the Elemental Lords bowed before it, glowing streams of power erupting from their bodies and pooling into the artifact. Then, as the artifact shone with a bright new light, the winged being disappeared back into the sky.

“Is that... a sphinx?” said Celestia.

“Looks like it,” Daring Do replied. “Definitely not something native to this continent, from what I’ve gathered. And that’s no ordinary orb, either. Look at the next image.”

Daring Do motioned to another page. In its center was the very same golden orb, positioned within a glowing halo as it loomed over an elaborate landscape. Multiple rays of golden light shone outwards from the orb, and everywhere they touched the land had grown visibly more vibrant and fertile. Two more rays of light shone skyward, one enveloping the sun, and the other enveloping the moon.

“You’re seeing this, aren’t you?” said Daring Do. “You get what this means? That artifact has to be the Golden Sun. It’s the foundation of the Empire’s power, and the reason everything here is teeming with life. This thing regulates the entire continent’s natural cycles all by itself.”

“It would appear so,” said Celestia. As she looked up to face Daring Do, she noticed a subtle crease on the archaeologist's forehead. “But that’s not the last of what you wished to show me, is it?”

Daring Do shook her head. “No. There’s one more thing. Right here.”

As her eyes drew towards the end of Daring Do’s hoof, Celestia leaned back in surprise. The final set of pictograms, on the farthest end of the codex, showed the images of all four Elemental Lords, each leading a vast army across a charred, burning battlefield. Corpses of all kinds littered the landscape, and dozens of soldiers were shown mutilating each other in horrific, brutal ways. Above them all, the Golden Sun shone brightly, its bright golden radiance turned into a deep, bloody crimson.

Daring Do looked Celestia straight in the eye, her lips pressed into a thin frown. “You understand why I called you here now, right? This is what the Golden Sun brought to this continent. The Elemental Lords were gifted with a power beyond imagination so that their lands could prosper, but instead they committed horrible atrocities to claim it for themselves. ” As she continued, her voice became increasingly agitated. “There’s no telling how much of this is true and how much is embellished, but several of these codices show entire civilizations being eradicated. It looks like only reason the Cuetzpali Empire exists at all is that they simply outlasted all of their rivals.”

Comprehension began to crawl its way into Celestia’s awareness. Her wings twitched subtly by her sides as the weight of understanding pressed upon her. “And now they hold exclusive claim to the Golden Sun’s power.”

Daring Do looked Celestia straight in the eyes. For the first time since they arrived, the quiet determination that had always shone through them had begun to falter. “Princess, I... I’ll admit, I’m a little bit scared to think of what this could mean for us. Based on its depictions, the Golden Sun is easily the most powerful artifact I’ve ever come across in my travels. If it were turned against Equestria, the Elements of Harmony would probably be the only thing strong enough to stop it. And that’s not even considering how much damage it could do before the Elements were properly assembled.”

Celestia took in a deep breath. “You are right that it’s powerful enough to pose a significant danger. That said, if the Golden Sun is used to keep the continent’s natural cycles flowing, the Cuetzpali Empire would have no good reason to bring it outside of their established territory.”

Daring Do’s mouth opened briefly, then closed again. After a slight pause, she spoke. “You’re not worried at all?”

“I am always worried,” Celestia responded. “That is part and parcel of my duty to Equestria. I am worried about the Empire, but if they were to choose to make enemies of us, they would much more likely turn to raw military strength. I am far more worried that the Golden Sun will be taken by an outsider who doesn’t care for the fate of this continent.”

“Do you really think that could happen, though?” said Daring Do. “It would have to be the single most closely guarded item in the Empire, if not the entire world.”

“Tell me, Miss Daring,” said Celestia, “how many villains have nearly brought Equestria to ruin in the past five years alone? Would you feel safe assuming none of them are capable of infiltrating the Empire’s strongholds?”

“I...” Daring Do bit her lower lip, and her eyes trailed off to the side. “...no. But what exactly are we going to do about all of this?”

“I’ll figure that out when the time comes to establish proper diplomatic relations,” said Celestia. “For now, I believe we should get some rest. There is much to done today.”

Daring Do exhaled sharply. “...Yeah, you’re probably right. I haven’t gotten a whole lot of sleep.” In a single smooth motion, she folded the codex up and tucked it beneath her wing. As she trotted towards a nearby shelf, she gave Celestia a nod. “I’ll see you later today, Princess.”

————————

After a breakfast that required multiple clarifications on the appropriate diet for a pony, Celestia’s group met with Xochitli in the courtyard just before the palace, joined by the two other generals and their own escort of soldiers. As Celestia approached, Xochitli’s expression changed. Though it was still hard to gauge his reptilian features, she’d already begun to recognize his body language, and she could tell that the elderly general was smiling.

“Good morning to you, Princess,” said Xochitli. “Did you rest well? We’ll be doing quite the extensive tour today, so you’ll want to make sure you have the energy.”

Celestia smiled back. She wasn’t entirely certain how sincere it was. “It couldn’t be any more exhausting than dealing with Equestrian nobles all day. I look forward to seeing more of your capital city.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be great!” said Tecoli. “I can’t wait to show you what we have have in our stables!”

Celestia and Daring Do exchanged a glance at one another. The Royal Guards that were gathered behind them seemed no less baffled.

“Stables?” said Daring Do. “You mean like... a place to rent?”

“What do you mean?” said Tecoli. “Why would a dinosaur rent a stable? That’s just where we keep them.”

“Huh,” said Daring Do. “That’s... weird. Maybe I just got the wrong idea for a second there.”

Before anyone else could speak, Ihhuitl loudly cleared her throat. “If it’s not too much trouble, father, I would also like to catch the ōllamaliztli match before the end of the day.” For a moment, it almost looked like she was blushing, however impossible that might have seemed for a reptile. “It... it could be a good opportunity to introduce our guests to our customs, that’s all.”

Xochitli chuckled lightly. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, child. We all know how fond you are of sports. We’ll visit the stables, then we’ll see if we can catch your ball game before we visit the Sun Temple. Sound good?”

“Yay!” Tecoli cheered.

“Yes!” said Ihhuitl, closing her eyes and pumping her fist in the air. Almost immediately after, she froze in place, her pupils dilating as she opened her eyes to see the watchful crowd. With a very conspicuous cough, she straightened herself out. “I-I mean, thank you, father.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” said Xochitli. He glanced across Celestia’s group, his eyes scanning across the assembled ponies and minotaur. “Well, we’d best be getting a move on. There’s a lot we’re going to do before the end of the day.”

Xochitli turned around, motioning with his hand. At his gesture, the entire gathering of soldiers began following after him, and Celestia led her own group to follow as well. Before long, they were exiting the palace courtyard and making their way through the city.

————————

The stables were a compound in the city’s eastern quadrant, greatly removed from most of the other buildings. Stone streets and archways eventually gave way to a large, enclosed field that bristled with grass and weedy flowers, and a single enormous tree that stood dozens of feet tall. Beyond the field was a truly massive building, many times as tall as any stable that Celestia had seen in her life.

That itself couldn’t compare to the sight of the field itself, or rather what was in the field. A large variety of dinosaurs, massive beasts with bright, colorful plumage, were roaming across the enclosed space. A herd of multi-horned ceratops were happily grazing on the carpet of long grass, and a smaller number of fearsome carnosaurs were present. Strangely, the carnosaurs didn’t seem to be interested in the herbivorous dinosaurs at all. Overhead, several feathered pterodons circled the enclosure, with several of them roosting on the branches of the tree.

“Hey, how come those bigger dinosaurs are getting along with the smaller ones?” said Iron Will. “In Iron Will’s experience, if something’s bigger than you and has lots of teeth, it’ll probably try to eat you at some point.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Tecoli eagerly replied. “We raise them together when they’re born. They won’t eat anything that lives in the stable ‘cause they all share a bond with each other. Come on, let me show you my special mount!”

Eagerly running forward, Tecoli opened the gates to the field and ran through, leaving the cuetzpali soldiers stationed at the gate as the others followed in her hurried footsteps towards the stable proper. The dinosaurs in the pasture eyed Celestia’s group warily as she led them through, and the hungry gazes of the carnosaurs in particular set them visibly on edge. By the time they reached the stable, Tecoli had already rushed in, through a smaller door that was built into the board of second door that was at least a dozen times as large. As Celestia approached the immense stable doors, Xochitli held out an arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“You folks might want to stand back for a moment,” he said.

Celestia blinked. “Oh?”

Whump. Whump. WHUMP.

Before Celestia could even ask for any further clarification, she was preemptively answered by a thunderous stomping, intensifying and drawing closer with each subsequent step. Her wings straightened by her sides as the powerful vibrations in the ground shot through her hooves and pierced the very core of her being. The sense was magnified tenfold by her innate connection to the earth, and though she’d held that connection for even longer than she was an alicorn, she found herself briefly wishing she could live without it.

And then the larger doors of the stable swung open. In the doorframe stood a truly gargantuan carnosaur, with teeth that were each as large as one of Celestia’s legs. Bright crimson plumage was sprayed intermittently across its green scales, patterned in a manner that resembled splatters of blood. Perched atop its back was Tecoli, who in proportion to the dinosaur’s body looked almost comically small. The fearsome carnosaur leaned forward, and gave a roar so intense that it left her momentarily deafened.

When her ears finally stopped ringing, Celestia took a moment to wipe the flecks of spittle off her face, and re-adjust her crown, which had been spun around one-eighty degrees by the force of the sound. Her eyes glanced backwards to her own group, and saw her guards huddled together in a mass, their bodies still shivering uncontrollably.

“Iron Will is suddenly glad he already went to the bathroom this morning,” said Iron Will.

Daring Do shot the minotaur a glare. “Did you really need to share that with us?”

“Iron Will doesn’t hide his feelings.”

Tecoli broke out into a light, airy giggle. “Gotcha, didn’t I? There’s no need to be afraid, though. Xeltua won’t eat anyone unless I tell her to.”

Daring Do stared agape at the massive dinosaur’s jaws, drops of saliva dripping between its enormous teeth. “Um... have you told her to?”

“Huh?” Tecoli blinked. She looked Daring Do in the eye from atop her mount, her eyes wide as though she’d just been struck. After a moment’s hesitation, her posture noticeably began to slump. “W-well... no. I, um, haven’t been a general very long. But you’ll see! When I turn two hundred, I’ll be the most fearsome military leader the Empire has ever seen!”

Through the corner of her eye, Celestia could see Daring Do’s pupils dilate. “Two... two hundred? Just how old are you?”

“One hundred and twenty seven,” Tecoli grumbled. “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else says!” she quickly added. “Just because I’m still a kid doesn’t mean I can’t be a good general! You’ll see!” Baring her teeth in a reptilian grin, she reached down patted her dinosaur mount on the side. “Come on, Xeltua, let’s show them what we can do! We’ll race around the pasture and beat our old record! Sound good?”

Daring Do’s jaw hung loose. “W-what? One hundred and... Just a kid? What?”

“You all might want to step aside,” said Xochitli.

As though on cue, Xeltua leaned forward, and began pawing at the ground with a leg. The massive carnosaur’s tail twitched eagerly as its entire body became poised for sudden motion.

“Incoming!” Iron Will shouted out.

The ground rumbled with the force of a miniature earthquake. Before she could even form a coherent thought, Celestia had already dived to the side. Her eyes screwed shut of their own accord as her entire body was enveloped in a cloud of dust kicked up by the massive footsteps, forcing her into an extended coughing fit. When she finally regained her composure, she stood to find everyone else in a similar position, save Ihhuitl and Xochitli, who had both retreated a much further distance to the side.

With a quick spell, Celestia brushed off the thin coat of dirt that had made its way into her hair and feathers. “Is everypony alright?”

Daring Do coughed gently, and gave the group a cursory glance. Thankfully, there were no injuries to be seen, apart from a few ruffled manes. “Looks like it,” she said.

Celestia and the others then turned their attention towards the pasture, where Tecoli and her mount were already circling around the outer bounds at a breakneck pace, kicking up further clouds of dirt as the force of the massive dinosaur footsteps uprooted patches of grass in their wake. As she ran, Xeltua let out another roar, one that was joined by Tecoli’s own joyful whooping and cheering.

A smile gradually crept its way onto Celestia’s muzzle. “I will admit, it is quite the spectacle.”

Daring Do rolled her eyes. “So’s almost getting your scalp sliced off in a death trap, but you don’t see me wanting to do that again anytime soon.”

————————

Thankfully, the remainder of their stay at the stables didn’t involve any more instances of nearly getting trampled by a dinosaur. It did involve a particularly nasty case of gingivitis, but that wasn’t something that couldn’t be solved by a quick theropod dental procedure, which apparently Iron Will was qualified to do somehow. Celestia decided it wasn’t worth the trouble questioning it.

Afterwards, their tour of Atlazan took them further into the city. The armed escort of soldiers had given them a wide berth as they passed, but as they reached closer and closer to their destination even they had increasing difficulty parting through the crowds.

It wasn’t hard to see why once they got close. The escort brought them into the neighborhood of a massive outdoor stadium, built from carved stone, which they could see clearly from several blocks away. Already from a distance they could hear the roaring crowd. By the time they reached the stadium proper, the roadway was so packed with pedestrians that the group was all nearly squished together, and the sound of cheering so intense that it rumbled like an earthquake.

As they approached the ticket counter, Xochitli cleared his throat. “Well, looks like we’ve all made it here. I’ll see you all after the game is over.”

“Huh?” said Tecoli. “Grandpa, you’re not going to watch it with us?”

“Well, I’m sure you know my old bones aren’t quite what they used to be,” Xochitli replied. “I don’t think I could handle being part of such a excitable crowd. I’ll leave the rest of the group to you, Ihhuitl, then we can meet each other at the Sun Temple.”

Ihhuitl nodded. “Yes, father.”

With a wave of his claw, Xochitli bid farewell to the others, turning around and disappearing back into the crowd.

Admission into the stadium proper went smoothly, though it had taken a considerable amount of time just to even get past the ticket counter. There were additional complications when it turned out there weren’t enough seats available for the full escort of soldiers, and after a brief argument with the ticket counter, Xochitli was able to procure additional seats from cuetzpali who had yet to show up, with the promise that those whose seats were taken would be given a full refund.

As they took their seats, Celestia couldn’t help but notice how the interior of the stadium was remarkably similar to those back on Equestria, and as they took their seats Celestia marveled at just how closely it mirrored the hoofball arenas that had been built over the past half-century. The sport that was being played, however, was something fairly different. The playing field was arranged into a distinct “I” shape, with a single narrow field flanked by two walls with sloping faces.

Within the field, two teams of six players, each dressed in elaborate, color-coded uniforms consisting of a leather tail guard, hip guards, a thick wooden girdle, kneepads, and protective helmets. For one team, the uniforms were dyed green wearing red and the other they were dyed green. The sport itself appeared to play like a netless version of volleyball, with each team hitting a large rubber ball back and forth with their tails across thick white lines that were drawn onto the grass. A stone ring, barely larger than the ball itself, hung from the center of the wall at mid-field, though the players only seldom made an effort to pass the ball through the ring, none of which succeeded.

Though Celestia had initially only watched the sport with a careful eye, in time she found herself growing increasingly captivated by the performance. The ball-players demonstrated an impressive combination of strength, agility, and athleticism, jumping and running with great acrobatic prowess. Every time the red team scored, the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers, and soon enough Daring Do, Iron Will, and the guardsponies found themselves caught in the same fervor. Even Celestia found herself eventually joining in; after a particularly impressive score by the red team, she noticed she was stomping her front hooves in applause against the stadium floor, without even having realized she had started.

“Come on, everyone!” said Iron Will, “Do the wave!”

“Oh! Sounds fun!” said Tecoli. “You heard him! Three, two, one, wave!”

Tecoli stood up from her seat reached into the air with her arms, a motion that was subsequently mimicked by the guards to her left. Before long, Celestia found herself caught within the motion as well, eagerly standing onto her hind legs and waving her front legs in time with the surrounding crowds. The wave spread across the stadium, traveling clockwise from the motion of the spectators, until it reached all the way back to where it had started.

As the wave of the crowd faded, Celestia couldn’t help but giggle. She could hardly even remember the last time she had the chance to show that much of her lighter side. Here, despite the oddity of her presence, nobody was interested in judging her for acting in a manner less than regal.

In the corner of her eye, however, she saw something odd. There, sitting to the right of her, was Ihhuitl. Despite the cheering crowd, her expression remained utterly blank, and she sat unmoving on her chair. Her entire body was tense enough that it seemed like any moment she could snap like a rubber band.

“Is something wrong, General?”

“Hm?” Ihhuitl’s attention was pulled away from herself, and she turned to face Celestia. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who suggested we come to this game,” Celestia replied. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Ihhuitl’s eyes drifted away. For several moments, she remained silent, until she finally spoke. “...Yes.”

“Well, I don’t presume to judge,” said Celestia, “but you don’t look very happy right now.”

“I would have thought that you of all creatures would understand,” Ihhuitl replied, her voice barely audible above the crowd. “You are here to represent your entire people, yet you engage in these... these crude festivities. Are you not worried your behavior will reflect poorly on those you speak for?”

Celestia smiled gently. “Perhaps. But everyone here seems to enjoy this sport. I’d hate for you to think that ponies are incapable of having fun.”

“I suppose. It’s just...” Ihhuitl gave out a sigh. “I’m sure you have noticed by now, but my niece can be rather... enthusiastic. She is young, and has yet to learn the decorum that is expected of her position. I was much like her, once.”

“I see,” said Celestia. “So you fear that others won’t respect you if you show your true feelings.”

Ihhuitl remained silent. Her head turned downward slightly, and she stared at the floor.

“If I may offer some advice?” Iron Will chimed in.

“Gah!” Ihhuitl cried out suddenly, nearly jumping out of her seat. “You! Were you eavesdropping?”

“You were kind of talking to each other while we’re right here,” said Tecoli. “And what’s this stuff about ‘decorum,’ anyway?”

Iron Will snorted audibly. “Oh, that? That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘pretending to be something you aren’t.’ Iron Will doesn’t believe in such things. If there’s one thing that other folks can always recognize, it’s a phony. That’s why Iron Will always stays true to himself, and ponies from all across Equestria flock to his entrepreneurial ventures. Nothing in the world of business is more refreshing than sincerity.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “And does that sincerity include fine print contracts?”

Iron Will grinned, letting the sunlight glint off his pearly whites. “Did Iron Will lie about his contract?”

“Strictly speaking, no,” said Celestia. “But I’d hardly call—”

“Then Iron Will rests his case.”

“Yes. Well. I would hardly compare a being an entrepreneur to being in a position of leadership,” Ihhuitl remarked. “I have had great expectations placed on my shoulders for as long as I can remember. I... I want to be able to embrace my own passions, but my responsibilities aren’t about what I want.”

“I dunno, I kinda think he’s onto something,” said Tecoli. “I mean, sure, people probably think because you’re part of the Council, you’ll probably have be some stuffy old codger like grandpa. But why not just prove them wrong? If you’re really great, won’t people like you anyway?”

“Greatness doesn’t mean following every impulse I have, Tecoli,” Ihhuitl chided. “My words and actions do not exist in a vacuum. By the nature of my station, everything I do can leave a profound impact on the Empire. That is the responsibility of leadership, and that is something you must understand.”

Celestia stared at Ihhuitl. Even in the unfamiliar wrappings of a reptilian face, she could see the inner conflict etched into her frown, a feeling that she had known centuries ago. “If I may ask, Ihhutil, what makes you believe you have to choose between serving your duties and following your own desires?”

Ihhuitl turned to face Celestia. Her eyes sparkled brightly underneath the afternoon sun, reflecting an emotion that Celestia had seen many times within the mirror. “I... I don’t understand. What are you trying to say? Of course I have to choose, I can’t afford to be reckless with the power I wield.”

Celestia smiled warmly. “But I never said anything about recklessness, did I? Trust me, I understand exactly how you feel. I was known to be quite the stick in the mud when I was younger. Ponies would always treat me with utmost seriousness, and because of that, I believed that I could only ever act in utmost seriousness.” Her smile widened into a grin, amusement bubbling just beneath the surface of her emotions. “If you’d told me then that I’d gain a reputation as something of a prankster, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

Ihhuitl’s mouth briefly opened, then closed again. “You... play pranks?”

“Mild ones,” Celestia replied. “I would never hurt anypony, but I do like to remind them that I do have a sense of humor.”

“But why?” said Ihhuitl. “You are clearly not... not eccentric the way the Emperor is. The way you’ve handled yourself so far, the way your guards are always at ease... if you do not rule through fear, how do you ensure they respect you if you don’t meet their expectations?”

“Ponies always have great expectations of those in my position,” Celestia replied. “And much of the time, I will have no choice but to meet them. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help shape those expectations in turn. Once I learned to lighten up just a little, I found that others would treat me more often as a pony, rather than a mere symbol of authority.”

Ihhuitl went silent once more. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as her brow wrinkled. When she opened her eyes again, there was a new lightness to them, like a great weight had been lifted. “I will try to keep that in mind. Thank you, Princess.”

“You’re quite welcome,” replied Celestia.

“GOAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!”

The cry came from Tecoli, and subsequently the entire crowd erupted into a thunderous chorus of whistles, cheers, and excited cries, every single cuetzpali in view standing up out of their seats to join in the festivities. The noise itself was so overwhelming that Celestia was nearly blown off her feet, but a single look at the field below gave her an answer. There, sitting just a few feet beyond the stone ring, was the rubber ball that the players had previously been hitting back and forth. While they were conversing, one of the players had miraculously managed to hit it through the goal ring.

“Yes!” This time, it was Ihhuitl who cried out. She stood up out of her seat, arms raised into the air as she joined in the crowd’s cheers. “Red teams wins! Red team wins!”

Despite still not knowing the rules of the game, Celestia couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. “I’ll be. So they have.”

————————

The sun was already well into western half of the sky by the time the game ended. As the crowds of cuetzpali left the stadium and gradually dispersed, Ihhutl led the group through the streets, towards the city’s westernmost point. It was impossible to miss their destination, as the absolutely enormous stepped pyramid towered over all of the other buildings, its golden cap and silver linings gleaming off the sun’s rays.

The entrance to the Sun Temple grounds was closed off by a massive set of golden gates, guarded by two additional soldiers. There, standing in front of the entrance, was Xochitli.

“Glad you could make it on time. I’ve gone ahead and notified the temple guards in advance of our visit. Shall we?”

“Gladly,” said Celestia.

Xochitli waved his hand towards the guards, and they turned and grabbed the handles of the gateway doors. Slowly, the gates pulled open, and right away Celestia could feel an intense magic radiating from the Temple itself. It was a power so intense that she could feel it reverberating throughout her entire being, from the way it carried into the air, to the magic that seeped from the ground into her hooves, to the swirling, invisible currents of magical power in their raw form.

You can feel that too, right? Daring Do spoke telepathically. In the air around us? I don’t think I’ve ever felt a power like it before.

You know I have as much an aeroceptive sense as any pegasus, Celestia replied. But I don’t just feel the power in the air. I can feel it in the earth, and the raw magic surrounding us. I have only felt magic like this once before, from the Crystal Heart. But even then, it wasn’t this powerful.

Daring Do didn’t respond. Her brow wrinkled, and a deep frown crossed her face. She and Celestia both followed Xochitli up the main stairway to the Sun Temple, a massive set of steps that seemed at times as though it would never end. After more than a minute of walking, they came to the top of the stairway, which led directly into the golden-plated chamber that was placed on the pyramid’s very top. Another pair of guards was stationed at the archway leading into the room, who stepped aside as Xochitli nodded to them.

The interior of the Sun Temple, was even more breathtaking. There, the entire room was made from the purest polished gold, the floors, walls, and ceiling engraved with reliefs that painted vast, elaborate murals. Four statues, each resembling the Elemental Lords Daring Do had shown Celestia before, stood positioned in the center of the room. Instinctively, Celestia realized that they were each placed in positions that represented the four cardinal directions. They facing inwards, towards a golden circular plate that was embedded into the floor.

As they stood in the room, nearly all of Celestia’s group stood frozen in silent awe. Xochitli turned around to look at them, and chuckled softly to himself.

“Impressive, isn’t it? And we haven’t even reached the inner sanctum yet.”

Iron Will whistled softly, quite apparently impressed. “No wonder this place is guarded. Look at all of this gold!” His eyes drifted across the room, until it rested upon the easternmost statue, an image of a goggle-eyed beast. “Hey, that one looks kind of like—”

Celestia glared fiercely at Iron Will. He flinched slightly, and made a buttoning gesture over his lips.

“Those are the four Elemental Lords,” said Tecoli. “They poured their energy into the Golden Sun to make its magic work. It’s the most powerful force of alchemy in the whole world!”

“I figured they might be something like that,” said Daring Do. “There’s something I’m a bit curious about, though.” She pointed a hoof again towards the goggled statue. “What’s he supposed to be, anyway? Quetzalcoatl’s a serpent, one’s a jaguar, one’s a hummingbird... but I’m not sure what his deal is.”

“Oh, that?” said Tecoli. “That’s Tlaloc, the Lord of Water. The ahuizotl were his chosen people, so he’s kind of like them but fishier.”

Daring Do blinked. She paused for a moment, and rubbed a hoof against her ear. “I... I’m sorry, did I just hear you right? Did you say the ahuizotl? As in, plural?”

“Yeah, the ahuizotl,” said Tecoli. “You know, river beasts? They pretty much controlled the whole city, ‘till grandpa and the Emperor came in and kicked them all out... well, okay, maybe not all of them. The Nameless One decided he wanted to be on our side.”

“That is enough, Tecoli,” Ihhuitl cut in harshly. “We do not speak of him, remember?”

“Oh,” said Tecoli. Her eyes turned toward the ground. “Right, sorry.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty more opportunities to learn the history of our Empire,” said Xochitli. “For now, I suggest we get our last stop on the tour out of the way. No offense intended, but I don’t see the value in letting foreigners loiter on sacred ground.”

Xochitli stepped forward, standing himself on the of the golden plate. As he positioned himself on its center, he cleared his throat. “Now, the elevator isn’t large enough to hold everyone, Princess, so I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your guards behind.” His eyes glanced over to the contingent of soldiers that had followed along as well. “And that goes for you as well. I’ll take the other Council members to see the Golden Sun our guests. You are to stay here and wait until we return. Is that clear?”

The soldiers nodded in unison with one another, a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echoing through the chamber.

“Good. Now then, shall we?”

Celestia gave her guardsponies one last nod. She followed Xochitli onto the platform, joined at her sides by Daring Do, Iron Will, and the two remaining generals. When all were positioned on the golden circle, Xochitli reached out with a hand, and a pulse of psionic energy flowed through his body.

A low grinding noise came from beneath them, and the platform slowly began its descent further into the pyramid. The elevator itself was a tube of stone construction, devoid of any of the golden flourishes seen in the rest of the temple. Down they descended, further and further, until they had no doubt passed the pyramid’s base and descended even deeper into the earth itself.

When the platform reached the end of its descent, the group found themselves in a domed chamber, though to call it a mere chamber would not have adequately described what they saw. Though the floors were carved from simple stone, the ceiling and walls appeared to be made from the very essence of the night sky itself, a dark, inky mass that flowed with the dotted lights of hundreds of stars and constellations. And here, the power that she had felt from the temple was stronger than it had ever been before.

As Xochitli stepped forward, a trail of light flashed into existence across the floor, formed from the luminous specks of the stars from a distant galaxy. The pathway of start extended forward, deeper into the unknown catacombs. Xochitli then led the group across the path, within short time they had come across a large, the large golden orb atop it gleaming with an intense, radiant light.

Celestia’s mouth hung open, her very breath taken away from her by the sight, and waves the overwhelming power that lapped against every single one of her magical senses. There, sitting atop the pedestal, was the Golden Sun itself.

————————

The Golden Sun 9

Legendary Artifact

Other permanents you control have hexproof.

Spells you control can’t be countered by spells or abilities.

Damage from sources you control can’t be prevented.

Whenever you tap a permanent for mana, add one mana to your mana pool of any type that permanent produced.

————————

Xochitli grinned as he turned to face Celestia and her no-less-awestruck companions. “Impressive, isn’t it? This artifact single-handedly keeps west of the rising sun in its eternal balance. Under its light, the earth bears fruit, the skies bear wind and rain, and the sun and moon are forever kept in motion above our skies.”

“Wow,” said Iron Will. “So it’s just like Princess Celestia!”

Celestia’s entire body tensed. The three Council members stared with piercing eyes, and she found muttering several profane cursing beneath her breath.

“Interesting,” said Xochitli. “And what do you mean by that, if I might ask?”

“Well, that’s easy,” said Iron Will, “you see—”

“Be silent,” Celestia growled. “I have more than enough to worry about without you jeopardizing our mission every time you open your mouth.”

Despite his massive size, the minotaur flinched away in a manner that made him look very, very small. “Right. Sorry.”

Turning back to face the three generals, a deep, heavy sigh passed Celestia’s lips. “Iron Will is correct, in a sense. For well over a thousand years, it has been my duty as Equestria’s ruler to raise the sun every morning, and lower it every evening. But what most do not know is that I lack the ability to control the sun’s path once it passes the horizon. I have long suspected that there was some other force keeping it moving over the world’s other side, though until today, I could only guess what it was.”

Xochitli’s expression remained unreadable as he regarded Celestia. “A fascinating story, but there is one thing I’m curious about. Who, might I ask, is raising the sun in your homeland, now that you are away?”

“That would be my younger sister,” Celestia replied. “Her duty is to raise and lower the moon. She has taken over my responsibilities for the time being, until I return.”

Xochitli paused, gently stroking his own chin. “Hmm... I suppose that would explain things.”

“Father, you don’t actually believe her, do you?” said Ihhuitl.

“Well, I will admit that I’m not entirely credulous,” Xochitli replied. “But her claim isn’t far-fetched either. There was a time before the great wars ravaged our land, when Quetzalcoatl himself used his winds to push the sun and moon across the sky. I imagine a similar responsibility would also exist on the world’s underside. Perhaps one day I’ll visit her kingdom and see it for myself.”

Celestia exhaled, forcibly letting the tension out of her lungs. “We’ll get there when we get there, General. For now, I’m honored to have gotten the chance to see the crown jewel of your Empire.”

Xochitli managed to crack a smile. “I’m certainly glad you recognize the glory of our Golden Sun. Now then, since we’ve all seen what we came here to see, why don’t we—”

The elderly general never had a chance to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, a thick cloud of smoke burst into existence, choking the air and blotting out all vision. Celestia coughed furiously as the smoke forced itself into her lungs, her eyes watering from the sudden irritation.

When the smoke at last began to clear, she looked around the room towards the others. Already she could sense something was off, as the alchemical energies that radiated from the Golden Sun were already growing weaker.

“Is everyone alright?” Celestia called out.

“I think so,” Daring Do replied. “What was that, some kind of smoke bomb? Just who—”

“Grandpa, look!” Tecoli shrieked. She pointed with the claw towards the central pedestal. Celestia’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes followed to the pedestal, and she noticed what was there. Or rather, what wasn’t.

Celestia gasped. “The Golden Sun! It’s gone!”

Author's Note

So it looks like I’m actually going to have to split this off into a four-part side-story, since I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to not make things ridiculously overcomplex. Whoops. :twilightsheepish:

Either way, you can look forward to seeing how this plays out soon enough, the difficult part was getting all the worldbuilding and characterization out of the way first.

Golden Sun's Zenith, Part 4

“Oh dear. That’s definitely not good.”

Xochitli stared at the now empty pedestal where the Golden Sun, the central keystone of the Cuetzpali Empire, had stood. Already the light that it had shed over the sanctum had vanished, leaving the illusory glimmer of the stars to slowly fade. One by one, each of the hundreds of thousands of stars that dotted the scene began to fade out.

Ihhutl’s tail twitched behind her, and her body became tense. As she whirled around to face Celestia, her claws crackled with power. With a flash of light and psionic energy, a massive spear forged from bright purple plasma manifested in her talons. She brandished the spear threateningly, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

“This is your fault!” she bellowed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have your heads for this!”

“What? Auntie, hold on!” said Tecoli. “We don’t actually know if they did this, do we?”

“She has a point, I’m afraid,” Xochitli added. “The Golden Sun has been secure for many centuries, yet it disappeared the very moment these ponies showed up.” He turned towards Celestia, his eyes narrowing gravely. “And if what our Princess says about raising the sun is correct, then she would have a good reason to fear our power. Isn’t that correct, your highness?”

Daring Do’s wings flared up by her sides. “Now you hold on just a minute! Princess Celestia would do anything like this! You can’t just pin the blame on us!”

“That is enough, Miss Daring,” Celestia cut in. “I will handle this.” A great, icy tension clutched at her from within, yet it still did not quell the determination beneath her eyes. In her mind she rapidly considered the available options, and all the possible outcomes that could spell doom for her and everyone she accompanied.

When Xochitli spoke next, he spoke with a voice that was sharp enough to draw blood. “If there is something you have to say for yourself, Princess, I would suggest that you say it now. Should this truly be your doing, then the crime you have committed will be treated as nothing less than an act of war. So choose your next words very carefully.”

Celestia paused. Her eyes flicked across the room, her heart pounding in her chest with the force of a cannon. She took a deep breath, then exhaled just as deeply, briefly clearing the fog from her mind.

“Very well,” said Celestia. “I submit.”

“W-what?” said Daring Do. “Princess, with all due respect, what the hay are you doing!?”

Celestia held up a hoof, and Daring Do’s mouth glued itself shut instantly. “Detain us if you must,” she said. “Until you have found your culprit, we will offer you no resistance.”

Iron Will raised a finger towards Celestia. “Now hold on a minute—”

“We will offer no resistance,” she repeated, more strongly than before.

“A wise decision,” said Xochitli. “At least, assuming you’re not pulling any kind of trick on us. Which I would certainly hope you aren’t, for the sake of your nation.”

“No tricks,” said Celestia. “We will remain within your custody for as long as it takes for you to recover your artifact. Is that fair?”

Xochitli stood before Celestia’s group, his eyes remaining sharp as he scanned them. The air thickened with every breath Celestia took, each one becoming more laborious than the last.

Finally, Xochitli spoke. “Very well. Ihhutl, seal their magic and take them with us.”

Ihhutl blinked rapidly. She turned to stare at Xochitli, her scowl disappearing momentarily. After another moment, it returned, just as vicious and toothsome as before.

“You’re serious,” she snarled. “You can’t be serious. You’re doing what she tells us? Their actions have taken away from us the very keystone of our prosperity! They must pay with their blood!”

Xochitli’s brow furrowed. Slowly he turned around, his elderly body trembling as he gripped his staff more tightly than Celestia had ever seen before. When he spoke, his voice remained soft, yet at the same time it rumbled with the intensity of an earthquake.

“Do not presume I am ignorant of the threat we face, child. I have led our Empire against forces more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”

Ihhuitl flinched backwards at the sound of his voice. She inhaled deeply, then turned to look Xochitli in the eye. “Father, with all due respect—”

“If you wish to show respect, you will listen,” Xochitli interrupted. “I am aware that our Empire is under threat, just as it has been many times in ages past. You must understand that acting rashly does not do us a service in such times. Detain them for now, until we have learned enough of the situation to properly judge them. Do I make myself clear?”

Ihhuitl’s grip on her weapon tightened. Another sharp breath drew from her nostrils, as she all but forced herself to relax. “Very well.”

Her body glowed, and there was a second flash of light, one that immediately enveloped Celestia and her companions with a blinding purple. When her vision recovered, rings of crackling yet surprisingly cool plasma had wrapped themselves around her midsection, pinning her wings against her body. Similar rings encircled her horn, and from the tingling, numbing sensation that enveloped it she could tell right away that her magic had been blocked off from her. She looked briefly to the side and saw that Daring Do’s wings and Iron Will’s arms had both been similarly detained.

Ihhuti approached Celestia, hovering the tip of her spear against the back of her neck. The crackling plasma stung gently as it rested above her body, the smell of singed hair briefly crossing her nostrils.

“I can’t believe I ever trusted you for advice,” Ihhutl snarled. “Know that if it weren’t for my father, you would be dead where you stand.”

“Auntie?” Tecoli said. Her eyes were wide and shimmering as she stared. “You don’t think they really did it, do you?”

Ihhutl turned to glance at her niece, and though the grip on her weapon remained intact, it softened ever so slightly. The corners of her mouth shifted as though she were about to speak, but ultimately she remained silent.

“We’ll get there when we get there child,” said Xochitli. “For now, let’s take them away so we can search for the Golden Sun properly.”

Ihhutl gave a harsh snort. She tapped the blunt end of her weapon against Celestia’s backside, pushing her forward. Before long, she and her two companions were being corralled onto the elevator, standing in silence as it rose to the temple’s entrance.

Daring Do briefly tapped her amulet, pretending to adjust it. I hope you know what you’re doing, Princess...

Celestia looked Daring Do in the eye. She tried to think of something to say in response, but any words she wanted to find escaped her. Instead she turned away, her eyes drifting towards the ground.

The light filtering from above signaled the end of their ascent, and they soon found themselves standing in the entry chamber of the temple. Loud sounds of coughing and retching echoed across the golden walls, small wisps of smoke lingering as the guards and soldiers expelled it from their lungs.

“Your Highness!” said one of the guards. “We were just...” His words trailed off as his eyes were drawn to the bands of plasma that bound Celestia’s body. “...princess, what’s happening?”

Xochitli raised a claw. “Pay her no heed right now. Tell us, what happened here?”

“General!” one of the cuetzpali soldiers stepped forward, standing himself up straight. “After you descended into the inner sanctum, we were assaulted by a smoke bomb. Someone managed to sneak past us in the confusion, and descend through the elevator shaft. We were hit by another smoke bomb just before you arrived.”

“Hmm,” said Xochitli. “As I suspected. Detain the Equestrian guards. We will escort them to the prison compound along with their Princess.”

All at once, the guards froze. Panicked whispers spread among them, only to silence as the soldiers drew their spears, encircling the group with brandished weapons.

The frontmost guard looked towards Celestia with pleading eyes. “Your Highness!”

“Do not resist them,” Celestia said. “I promise I’ll find a way to get you out of this. For now, just remain calm.”

Outnumbered and threatened at spearpoint, the guards silently obeyed. As the group was escorted out of the building, Celestia held her head low. Her stomach turned with each step, and the air that passed through her nostrils became thick and heavy. Her mind lingered on the last thing that Daring Do had said to her. That she hoped Celestia knew what she was doing.

And as painful as it was to admit it to herself, Celestia wasn’t sure if she did.

————————

Having lived for nearly twelve centuries, Celestia had gotten used to the feeling of time moving by quickly. Compared to her own lifespan, the passing of a single day felt barely any greater than momentary. Yet as she sat in her cell, isolated from the others, she couldn’t help but notice just how agonizingly slow time seemed to move. Though the boredom was absolutely crushing, even that couldn’t explain it. She could have sworn that hours had passed, but the sunlight continued to shine through the bars in her cell door just like before.

The prison complex itself was an isolated building, on the southern side of the city. They had thrown her and her entire staff into it without any fanfare, and had gone out of their way to inform her that they’d detained her ship as well. Philomena was still nowhere to be seen, and Celestia could only guess whether her pet phoenix had escaped to safety.

Every now and then, a pair of soldiers would come in and interrogate her. They would ask questions about her kingdom, about her arrival in the Empire, about her intentions, about what she knew of the Golden Sun. And she would answer them, careful not to reveal too much information about her own nation, but enough that the guards would leave her unassaulted. As she learned the hard way, they were not shy of using their claws if they found an answer unsatisfactory. Several bloodied scratch marks were already plainly visible around her midsection, and the crackling static of the plasma that bound her wings rubbed against it, leaving the wounds perpetually stinging and raw.

The one small mercy is that they had neglected to take the telepathic amulet around her neck, but even then it didn’t matter. She had offered some reassuring words to Daring Do, but after a while her companion simply stopped caring, or had otherwise become unable to respond.

Throughout all of it, Celestia had paced back and forth across the tiny cell, desperately trying to think of something she could do. A way to escape, a way to rescue her companions, and a way to find the stolen artifact and avert the possibility of a war on her nation. With enough effort, she could easily break the seal on her wings and horn through sheer brute magical force, but given the catastrophic collateral damage it could cause, that was out of the question. Other ideas were scarce, and there were none that wouldn’t immediately provoke the wrath of a nation powerful enough to slaughter her little ponies in droves.

Over time, her pacing slowed, her hooves falling against the stone floor with increasingly sluggish steps. Eventually, she stopped altogether. Her resolve finally exhausted, Celestia slumped against the cold rock wall.

A soft, dry sob pushed past her throat. It was hopeless. There was nothing more she could do. Nothing but wait, and pray that her captors would offer her mercy.

Then, a sky-blue light surrounded Celestia’s body. The bonds of plasma surrounding her dissipated, and she could feel a powerful force tugging at the very core of her soul. Then it pulled at her one last time, yanking at her so hard that she felt herself being ripped away from physical reality. Everything vanished in a great, blinding flash of light, and when her vision recovered, she found herself standing in a new location.

A blue foreleg reached downward. Instinctively, she grabbed onto it, and lifted herself upright. Celestia was greeted with the familiar sight of her castle balcony overlooking the Canterlot nightscape, and the flowing, scintillating mane of her younger sister.

“Luna?”

Luna’s forelegs wrapped themselves around her, and Celestia returned the gesture almost reflexively. They had not even been separated more than a day, and yet Celestia could not have been happier to be reunited. For several seconds they held their embrace, the warmth they shared lingering even as they pulled away.

As her eyes drifted towards the claw marks on Celestia’s barrel, Luna let out a gasp. “Tia, you’re hurt! What happened?”

“A diplomatic crisis,” Celestia replied gravely. “I need to return to the Cuetzpali Empire as soon as possible. Is everything alright here, Luna? What happened?”

“Alright?” said Luna, “Dear sister, with all due respect, what part of any of this looks alright to you?” She gestured wildly with a foreleg, her hoof sweeping across the the night sky.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. If you would just tell me...” Celestia paused mid sentence. There was a thought that she hadn’t considered before, one that came crashing into the forefront of her mind. “...wait. Luna, what time is it here?”

“Seven fifteen,” Luna responded. “The sun was supposed to be up fifteen minutes ago. I tried to raise it, but I couldn’t feel it on the edge of the horizon. Something is dreadfully wrong here, Tia. I need your help.”

“I see,” said Celestia. “Then it is worse than I thought. I must return—”

Princess?

The telepathic message burst into her mind, cutting off her own sentence just as it was leaving her lips. Celestia reached for her amulet, fumbling with her hoof as she frantically tried to tap the gemstone for a reply.

Daring Do, thank the stars you’re alright! What’s going on?

I should be asking you the same thing! Daring Do called back. Just where the hay are you!? The city’s under attack!

“What!?”

Luna flinched backwards at the sound of the sudden outburst. “What? Tia, what is it? What’s going on?”

Celestia shook her head. “Nothing good. I fear that the world as we know may be in peril. The sun’s motion on the planet’s other side is guided by a powerful artifact, and now it has been stolen for nefarious purposes. The Empire’s capital city is currently under attack, though by who I cannot say.”

Luna gasped. “And the sun can’t be raised until the artifact is retrieved! Great horn of Epona, this is a crisis! We must find the villain responsible and defeat them at once!”

“We will doing nothing, as you will be staying here,” Celestia said firmly. “Right now, Equestria needs somepony to reassure them, and guide them through these troubling times. In the meantime, you’ll have to send me back to where I came from.”

“W-what?” said Luna. “No, you can’t! It’s too dangerous! You can’t go alone!”

“There is no time for me to bring anypony else, I’m afraid,” Celestia replied. “The ponies I left behind are no doubt in grave danger. I must return to them at once.”

Luna’s body shivered slightly as she looked Celestia the eye. “But what about me? What will I do? If you and the sun are both gone, yet I am still here, then... t-then...”

“Luna.” Celestia stepped forward, wrapping a wing around her sister,. She nuzzled the younger alicorn gently, letting the warmth of her body radiate between them. “Nopony will blame you for what has happened. You have grown so much in the years since we reunited, and you’ve won the hearts of ponies all across Equestria. If you tell them the truth of the issue, I’ve no doubt in my mind that they’ll believe you.”

Luna looked up at her elder sister with trembling eyes. “You really think so?”

Celestia smiled warmly. “I know so.” She gave Luna one final hug, wrapping her in her forelegs, before pulled herself away from the embrace. “Now, I must be going. Can you figure out how to return me, Luna?”

“Of course,” said Luna. “The spell scans our plane for the thaumic frequency specific to your magic, then locks onto it and pulls it to my location through a fifth-dimensional teleportation vector. All I need to do is reverse the direction and magnitude of the vector the spell created, and you should be right back where you came from.”

“Excellent,” said Celestia. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Luna, if you would?”

“Right away, sister,” Luna replied. “I wish you luck on your endeavor, and a safe return.”

Luna’s horn glowed, and in a flash of blue light, Celestia felt herself hurtling across the world.

————————

The scene Celestia arrived in was not the scene she was expecting to see. She was not within the boundaries of her prison cell, for one, but that wasn’t especially unusual given the reduced precision the return spell would have. She hadn’t been teleported into a wall, thankfully, but where she found herself now was not much more desirable.

She was standing on a road in the city’s southern quadrant, one that she had passed when she had been escorted to her cell. Above, the sun had changed its color drastically, its warm and life-giving yellow hardening into a harsh, burning crimson. The entire cityscape was awash with red light as its scorching rays beat down on it relentlessly, but worst of all were the monsters that assaulted the city alongside it.

The creatures were black, shadowy things, like blobs of inky darkness shaped into animalistic forms. Skeletal, bipedal monstrosities with six arms brandishing bladed weapons, skittering scorpions with glowing, beady eyes and tails dripping with venom. Above, the skies were dotted with flying drakes, each no larger than a pony, with bodies almost entirely composed of their tattered, rotting wings.

And around her, Celestia could see guardsponies struggling against the monstrous army, their coordinated hoof strikes and dodging maneuvers barely fending off the monsters as they encroached. Off to her side, she saw Iron Will grabbing a skeletal monster by the head and snapping its jaw open, causing the beast to collapse to the ground and dissolve into wisps of black smoke. Above, Daring Do wove through formations of the flying drakes, expertly dispatching them a series of diving tackles.

“Princess!” Daring Do called out. “Thank... well, thank you, I guess. Mind helping us— Whoa!”

Another drake snapped at Daring Do, forcing her to roll to the side in midair. She followed up by delivering a fierce kick to the drake’s body, causing it to explode into another cloud of thick smoke.

Celestia did not wait any longer to make her move. Resolve poured into her body, flooding into every crevasse of her being. Her wings flared outwards, and in an instant she rocketed upwards, straight into the sky. As she ascended, several demonic drakes swarmed her, nipping and snapping at her with serrated teeth. Her horn glowed with radiant light, and several blasts of solar plasma erupted outward, spreading outwards with diverging, curving trajectories, until each of them homed in on a drake and struck it dead in the center of its spine. The drakes that had surrounded her all exploded into the clouds of misty darkness, before dissolving into the air.

Reaching further within herself, Celestia reached even deeper into her inner reserves of magic, a wellspring so vast that few ponies even understood its scale. Though she had only barely dived below the surface, it was enough. Her horn glowed once more, and a shower of radiant beams erupted with intense, blinding force. They shot upwards, towards the sun itself, before spreading out and raining to the ground like a shower of molten sunlight. Each bolt of her magic impacted a different monster with perfect precision, deftly avoiding contact with any of her companions as they struck down dozens upon dozens of monsters at once. The city blocks below her became choked with black smog as the monsters were felled, until the dark clouds dissipated into nothing.

Celestia descended upon the city, her hooves clacking against the stone street as she landed. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in as she looked over the group before her.

Daring Do landed next to her, grinning proudly. “Nice job, Princess! Way to take care of those monsters for us!”

“I’m just glad I made it here on time,” Celestia replied. “Is everypony alright? Are there any injuries? Any...” Though she knew what she had to say, pushing the words out of her lungs proved far more difficult. “...any casualties?”

A guard stepped forward, and gave Celestia a salute. “No casualties, Your Highness, but we’ve got a few nasty injuries. Private Ironhide’s got a broken leg, and we have at least five different counts of sting wounds from those scorpions. The venom doesn’t appear to be life-threatening, but it did leave their limbs paralyzed. We were able to evacuate the injured into a nearby safe house, though they’ll still need proper medical treatment.”

“I see,” said Celestia. “And where are the Empire’s military?”

“They’ve spread out across the city,” replied the guard. “We haven’t heard word back, but from what we’ve been able to guess, they’ve managed to safely get the civilian populace to seek shelter. Thankfully, these monsters look like they’re not smart enough to open doors.”

Before Celestia could reply, she felt a sudden rumbling in the ground. It was subtle at first, barely enough to notice, but soon it grew into a tremor that she could feel vibrating through her entire body. Her muscles tensed, instinctively preparing for a fight, but what approached quickly made her realize that fighting would be inadvisable.

Riding atop Xeltua, Tecoli approached alongside a squad of soldiers, each of which rode atop a a feathered raptor. From a different direction, Xochitli approached atop a large, muscular triceratops, alongside a squadron of other soldier riding smaller juvenile ceratops. Finally, Celestia turned towards the skies, and saw several pteradons circling above. They descended upon the group and landed before them, revealing Ihhuitl and her faction of elite Sky Knights. The three generals and their soldiers surrounded Celestia’s group from all sides, weapons and claws brandished.

Xochitli stepped forward, his sharp gaze piercing straight through Celestia’s hide. “So you’ve escaped your confinement, I see. You realize this doesn’t exactly do well to prove your innocence.”

“Hey, the Princess had nothing to do with this!” Iron Will shouted back. “We simply took advantage of the chaos while the city was under attack so we could... could... Iron Will’s not helping his case, is he?”

Xochitli’s eyes narrowed, a deep crease appearing on his brow. “No, you are not. We have already driven the rest of the invaders away, but the question remains of who summoned these dark creatures in the first place.”

“And your princess disappeared from captivity shortly before the attack,” Ihhuitl snarled. “One that caused more than two hundred confirmed injuries. Had we not responded so swiftly, someone would have died.”

Celestia very nearly flinched at the words that were spoken to her. Her thoughts went past her in a rush, searching for any alibi that she could life the suspicion that pressed down greatly on her shoulders.

In the end, she realized that telling the truth was the only option. “My sister—”

“I don’t care what your excuse is,” Ihhutl spat. “I should have killed you before, regardless of what my father said.” Her claws crackled with psionic power, and her spear once again materialized in her hands. Her mount stepped forward, wings flaring as it assumed a fighting stance. “Do you have anything to say for your people before I strike you down?”

Celestia’s stomach twisted itself into a pretzel knot. She looked back at her group, towards the pleading eyes that were all pressing down on her with weighty expectations. She then turned back towards the general, and cleared her throat.

Time. She had to stall for time. Anything that might give her more time to explain herself, and avert what looked to be the increasingly likely possibility of war. She opened her mouth, ready at that moment to speak her piece.

She never got the chance to do so. A loud, maniacal cackle echoed throughout the city. Her head whipped around, toward the direction of the noise, and her eyes went wide as she saw it.

There, standing atop a stone building, was a river beast. And clutched in the hand on the end of its tail was the Golden Sun itself.

————————

Ahuizotl the Nameless 3UB

Legendary Creature — Beast Rogue

Menace

Whenever Ahuizotl deals combat damage to a player, exile target artifact that player controls. You may cast that card for as long as it remains exiled.

Sacrifice an artifact: Return target Trap card from your graveyard to your hand.

”I am the shadow of the Eastern Star, the darkness that awaits beneath the dawn.”
— Creed of the Nameless One

3/3

————————

“Ahuizotl!” Daring Do cried out. “I should have known it was you!”

“That it was,” Ahuizotl replied. “And as amusing as it would be to see you slain at the hands of the Empire that cast me out, only I can be the one to take your life.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!” Tecoli cut in. “Your name is Ahuizotl? Just Ahuizotl? Isn’t that like kind of having a bird named ‘bird’ or something?”

Ahuizotl’s beady eyes turned to Tecoli. His lips twisted into a vicious sneer as he glared down at the younger general. “Yes, it is. I would be happy to call myself by my true name, had your grandfather not ERASED IT FROM MY MEMORY!”

Ihhuitl’s mount stepped forward. Her eyes locked with Ahuizotl, and her spear shifted within her hands. “You forfeited the right to your name when you betrayed the Empire.”

“In my entire life, I have betrayed nothing and no one,” Ahuizotl countered. “The only side I have ever been for is my own. Your father stood in the way of the power I wished to claim. Now, I intend to finish what I started fifteen centuries ago.”

Ahuizotl held out a hand, and a glowing, golden orb of light materialized in his palm, radiating so much power that Celestia could feel its destructive potential even from a distance. He pointed it at Ihhuitl, at the orb shot outwards with blinding speed, aimed straight for her and her mount.

Celestia didn’t hesistate to act. With the strength that the blast contained, it would have been more than enough to vaporize Ihhuitl and her mount in an instant. She darted forward and upwards in a blur of white and pastel colors, and positioned herself in the air just before Ihhuitl to intercept the blast. Her horn glowed, and a mighty golden shield formed around herself, scintillating with protective energy.

It didn’t help her any. To her horror, the sphere of destructive psionics phased through her shield, moving as though it were pushing through a permeable membrane. She watched in horror as the sphere slowly slipped past the shields boundaries, growing closer and closer to her face.

Celestia closed her eyes and braced herself, and her entire world exploded in pain. When her vision began to return and her ears stopped ringing, she found herself lying singed and battered on the stone-cold ground. She stood up, her regalia utterly annihilated, yet miraculously the telepathic amulet around her neck was still intact.

She decided that questioning the artifact’s durability was the least of her concerns. She recalled the words Xochitli told her the day they arrived, of his conquests, and of the psionic power derived from the alchemical arts the Golden Sun embodied.

The many lordless tribes we encountered between conflicts believed it to be the same as their magic, and assumed it could be counteracted the same way, Xochitli had said. They assumed wrongly.

Celestia had to fight to suppress a shudder. Not only was the Golden Sun far more powerful than her, the psionics derived from its magic operated on principles that were entirely separate from a unicorn’s spellcasting ability. She was up against something that put her at an inherent disadvantage, worlds away from the only power in Equestria potent enough to counteract it.

Ahuizotl’s laughter pierced through the air like a dagger. “How selfless of you, Princess! And I can see you’re quite a lot more durable than the others, as well.”

Celestia’s eyes met Ahuizotl’s, the space between them thundering with mutual animosity. “Ahuizotl, you have not only single-handedly jeopardized the most important diplomatic mission in Equestria’s history, you have taken action that has threatened the very stability of the world itself. If you do not turn over the Golden Sun, I will destroy you here and now.”

Ahuizotl grinned, baring his teeth. “Strong words, Princess. Why don’t we see if you can back them up?”

A golden glow surrounded Ahuizotl’s body. Radiating power, he shot skyward. Celestia met the river beast’s challenge, a flap of her wings rocketing her upwards, until they both met above the city.

It was Ahuizotl who made the first move. He pointed a finger towards Celestia, and a stream of golden light erupted from it, pulsing with psionic power. Celestia performed a swift roll in the air, dodging to the side as the blast rocketed past her. She countered with a blast from her horn, and Ahuizotl let out a sharp cry as it struck him square in the center of the chest.

“Why, you...”

Ahuizotl growled harshly. Golden power surged throughout his body, pooling into his hands. Holding them both outward, he launched a rapid-fire series of blazing spheres, spreading outwards and covering the skies that surrounded Celestia. She dodged the blasts frantically, bobbing and weaving through the projectiles as they exploded in destructive bursts. A whiff of burnt hair and feathers crossed her nostrils as she barely avoided being toasted alive by an explosion to her side.

As she approached Ahuizotl, her horn glowed again in preparation to strike, though this time Ahuizotl came prepared. He pointed a finger at Celestia’s horn, and the beam that shot forward from her horn clashed midway with a beam that erupted from Ahuizotl. Ahuizotl’s own attack rapidly began to overpower hers, with the opposing beam encroaching on her by the second.

Thinking quickly, Celestia performed a short teleportation spell, disappearing from the beam’s path just as it had nearly struck her. She appeared behind Ahuizotl, who spun around to meet her.

As the beast’s eyes met hers, Celestia’s mind raced to consider her next strategy. She couldn’t meet Ahuizotl with raw power, even disregarding the damage she could do to the city if she tried. His attacks could push through her defenses easily, and in comparison she couldn’t even afford to use moderately powerful spells, in the risk that she would damage the Golden Sun.

But perhaps, she realized, there was another way. Right now Ahuizotl’s power was greater than hers, but he was still a living creature. One that depended on his senses to fight.

Right then, an idea began to hatch. A grin formed on Celestia’s face. Without hesistation, she charged forward, already confident of her next course of action. Her horn glowed in preparation of a spell, and Ahuizotl quickly braced himself to react.

What came next had caught Ahuizotl off guard completely. Instead of an offensive spell, what came from Celestia’s horn was a burst of pure, unfiltered light, powerful enough to rival the sun in its intensity.

Ahuizotl let out a shriek of pain, and clasped his hands over his eyes as they were blinded by the assault. Celestia took advantage of the opportunity immediately, rushing forward and spinning around to deliver a powerful kick with her hind legs.

The force of the impact sent Ahuizotl flying backwards, but he quickly righted himself, and pried his raw, reddened eyes open to face Celestia. Celestia in turn met his eyes, her wings keeping her hovering in place, prepared to react immediately to any move he could make.

A grin spread across Ahuzotl’s muzzle. “Not bad, Princess. You are a remarkable pony. But there is one thing I am curious about. Why do you fight for them? The Cuetzpali Empire have a long and bloody history of conquest. They may tell you that peace has reigned for centuries, but you know as well as I do that they could slaughter your kind with ease. Why protect them, knowing the threat they pose?”

“And do you expect me to believe that you are any better?” Celestia retorted.

Ahuizotl shrugged. “Perhaps not. Then again, I never claimed to hold the moral high ground.”

The thundering beat of wings interrupted Celestia before she could respond. She craned her neck upward, and saw a large pterodon spreading its wings above. Atop its back was the unmistakable figure of general Ihhuitl, her spear raised and poised to strike.

The pterodon dived downwards, its beak surrounding itself in a crackling, pulsing aura of plasma, much like the plasma the the general’s spear was crafted from. The pterodon let out a piercing screech, and its rider joined in with a bellowing war cry, as they both descended on Ahuizotl.

Ahuizotl simply grinned. He flew backward, easily dodging the pterodon’s dive as it soared pass him. With a point of his finger, he shot a piercing beam of magic, which punctured the dinosaur’s wing effortless.

The pterodon let out a agonizing shriek. It thrashed wildly in the air as it tumbled towards the ground, catapulting its rider off in a horizontal trajectory. Celestia rushed forward and caught General Ihhuitl as she tumbled through the air, the startled cuetzpali landing safely on her back.

Celestia turned her eyes back towards Ihhuitl, still trying to regain her orientation. “Are you alright, general? Where are your Sky Knights?”

“It’s too dangerous for them,” Ihhuitl responded. “I won’t send my men to die in a hopeless battle.” She rubbed her eyes, and her body jolted upright as she finally seemed to notice where she was. “What!? You! Where is my mount!?”

Ahuizotl shot another blast of energy towards them, forcing Celestia to dodge to the side. “You can worry about that later! I’ll be your mount for now!”

Another blast zoomed past them, barely missing Celestia’s wing. She turned upwards and began to ascend, soon meeting Ahuizotl’s altitude.

From there, the battle turned into a frantic series of evasive maneuvers, as the destructive blasts rained relentlessly upon them. Every time Celestia attempted to get close, another blast forced her to move out of the way before she could focus on her assault. And every time she tried to counter with a blast of magic from afar, Ahuizotl intercepted the attack with his own blast, effortlessly deflecting it away from him.

Another blast shot by Celestia, barely grazing her on the wing. She winced at the sudden burning sensation, her flight path wobbling slightly as she fought to remain airborne. Though her flight path was quickly righted, the burning in her lungs and the pounding in her chest made clear that her fatigue was catching up to her.

“We need a strategy,” said Ihhuitl. “We can’t keep dodging his attacks forever.”

She was right, Celestia realized. Ahuizotl was unlikely to fall for another attempt at blinding him, and so far every move she made to retaliate offensively had been evaded. There had to be something else. Something she could use to...

...and then, an epiphany hit her. As she flew, she motioned to the amulet around her chest, lightly tapping it with her hoof.

Another blast from Ahuizotl zoomed towards her, this time from her right side. She moved to dodge, but it was already too late. She was only able to roll enough to shield Ihhuitl from the full force of the blast, positioning her body between her rider and the explosion from the impact. The two were sent tumbling downward from the force of the impact, and all of Celestia’s senses blacked out from the sudden pain of impact as she collided with the ground below.

When she came to, Celestia found herself lying on a stone street, a spiderweb of cracks spreading out from the point where she had impacted it. To her side, Ihhuitl lay broken and bloodied, soft pained groans coming from her semi-conscious body.

Celestia looked upwards, and saw Ahuizotl descending upon her. His descent slowed, and he landed on the stone pavement, the Golden Sun still clutched in his tail.

Celestia’s legs wobbled as she struggled to stand. Ahuizotl simply laughed.

“My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Any last words before I send you to oblivion?”

Celestia opened her mouth to speak, but before she could articulate herself, she broke out into a coughing fit, sending droplets of blood and saliva onto the stone.

“What a shame,” said Ahuizotl. “And here I was hoping you had something worthwhile to say.” He raised his hand, pointing a palm towards Celestia. Her eyes went wide as another orb formed within his palm. In her body’s ragged state, she knew she couldn’t dodge the attack in time.

Then, behind Ahuizotl, there was a blur of motion. A streak of black and brown that passed by him, too quickly to distinguish its shape. The destructive orb in his palm dissipated instantly.

“What!?” Ahuizotl’s neck whipped around, towards his now-empty tail hand. It grasped uselessly at the air, clutching at the space where the Golden Sun had once been. “Where is it!? What did you do!?”

A sharp whistle came from above. There, hovering in the air above them, was Daring Do, carrying the Golden Sun in her forelegs. “Looking for this?”

“No!” Ahuizotl snarled. He jumped into the air, his powerful hind legs launching him skyward. Daring Do simply flew herself even higher, snickering to herself as Ahuizotl’s arms flailed pathetically at her as he reached the peak of his jump, before landing back on the ground.

“You give that back!” Ahuizotl yelled. “This isn’t funny, Daring Do!”

“Nah,” said Daring Do. “I think have a better idea of what to do with this. Hey Princess! Catch!”

With both of her forelegs, Daring Do threw the Golden Sun, sending it soaring over Ahuizotl’s head. As it zoomed towards Princess Celestia, her horn once again flared to life, and the artifact’s motion halted as she caught it in her telekinetic grip.

Ahuizotl turned to face Celestia, and his eyes went wide with terror at what he saw.

The moment that Celestia’s magic had touched the Golden Sun, she could feel its power connect with hers. Its radiance, its majesty, its incredible life-giving strength flooded into her, filling her body and soul with a power that she had only ever felt surpassed by the Elements of Harmony themselves. Her mane scintillated and glowed, transforming from its pastel colors to a white-hot luminosity, and all at once every feeling of pain, injury, and fatigue in her melted away.

As the Golden Sun shone ever more brightly, its namesake in the sky above responded to its light in kind. The harsh, blood red that it had taken before gradually dimmed, fading into the vibrant yellow that the world had always known. But as the sun returned to its usual color, another change overtook it.

Both the Golden Sun and the celestial body it was named for at once began glowing even more brightly than before. Ahuizotl let out a cry, shielding his eyes from the sudden light, but it wasn’t enough. His body seized and convulsed, warping and twisting in response to Golden Sun’s power. An agonizing shriek escaped his throat, but it was quickly cut off as his form was stretched upward vertically, thinning and elongating as it was pulled upward by an invisible force.

As his feet lifted off the ground, his spaghettified body spun upwards, rising further and further, until it rose up to meet the sun itself. In seconds it disappeared, spiraling into the sun’s image until it vanished entirely. When it was finally gone, the sun returned to its normal intensity, and the Golden Sun’s brilliance faded to its normal glow.

With a sigh, Celestia let the remaining tension out of her lungs, the lingering sensation of the Golden Sun’s power still leaving a gentle tingling across her body. Her horn glowed softly, and with one last gentle push, she moved the sun to the western edge of the sky.

A smile crossed her face as she felt her sister’s magic meet hers at the horizon. She released her magical grasp on the celestial body, and whispered a gentle word of gratitude as Luna raised the sun over Equestria.

————————

“Are you certain about this, General Xochitli?”

The elderly general had met with Princess Celestia outside the city walls, where she led her group onto the airship parked just outside. Overhead, the night sky twinkled gently with its stars and constellations, their light shining softly over the scene. Beside Xochitli were his other generals, with Ihhuitl’s body wrapped in bandages as she gently leaned on her niece for support. Tecoli, for what it was worth, seemed more than happy to aid her injured relative.

“Absolutely,” said Xochitli. “I believe it would be for the best that we not officially announce our diplomatic relationship to the rest of the world. If the Nameless One can return from the east and steal the keystone of our Empire so easily, then it stands to reason that others could do the same.”

“And you believe that remaining isolated from the world is the solution?” said Celestia.

Xochitli shook his head. “Well, no. I don’t believe that’s possible, to be honest. Not when knowledge of the world continues to expand, and not when we remain such a large part of it. But I think what happened today has revealed our vulnerabilities, and I believe we should focus on correcting them. We need to learn how to sustain ourselves without the Golden Sun, in case it should ever be threatened again. When the time comes, we’ll not shy away from the international stage.”

“That is understandable,” said Celestia. “But how do you propose we remain in contact with each other without revealing it to the rest of the world?”

“Actually, I think I can help with that,” said Daring Do. “You’re still wearing that amulet of telepathy, aren’t you? We can use that to communicate with a representative of the Empire even when we’re across the entire world from each other.”

Xochitli raised an eyebrow. As his eyes drifted to Celestia’s amulet, he chuckled lightly to himself. “Ah, I was wondering why you kept touching your amulet like that.”

“Indeed, it’s quite useful,” said Celestia. She lifted her amulet off of herself, handing it over to Xochitli with her telekinesis. “If you touch the gemstone, you can send a telepathic message to the bearer of the other amulet.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” said Xochitli. “And who will we be sending these messages to, if I may ask?”

“I believe I know just the pony,” said Celestia. “Daring Do, would you be willing to be my official representative to the Cuetzpali Empire?”

Daring Do blinked. “What? Me? I mean, I guess that kind of makes sense, since I do know more about them than anypony here. I’m just not sure if diplomacy’s really my thing.”

Tecoli gave a light, airy giggle. “Hey, look on the bright side! You can’t possibly do it any worse than your Princess did today, right? I mean, sheesh! For a while I thought grandpa’d declare war on her!”

Celestia tried her hardest not to visibly wince at the statement, and she wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

Daring Do shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. If we ever need to arrange a meeting, I’ll be sure to let Princess Celestia know.”

“And if you ever need an airship, Iron Will is happy to provide!” said Iron Will.

“I’ll consider it,” Celestia replied, not mentioning that the consideration would be ‘no.’ “Are the injured safely aboard the ship?”

“That they are,” said Iron Will. “The infirmary has enough supplies to take care of them until we arrive in Equestria. They should recover in no time!”

“Good to hear,” said Celestia. She turned towards the three generals and gave them one last look. “I’m sorry I had to leave on such short notice. It’s for the best that I return to Equestria before ponies begin to notice my absence. I need to reassure them that the sunrise won’t be delayed again.”

“It’s quite alright,” said Xochitli. “The Supreme One will probably be quite irritable when he hears of this, so you’d probably be better off being elsewhere. He’ll most likely forget you ever existed after you leave, thankfully.”

Ihhutl coughed loudly, forcing Tecoli to prop her further upright as she threatened to fall over. As Ihuitl stood up, her eyes locked with Celestia. “That said, you still brought the Nameless One here, even if you never intended it. Should you bring another enemy to our doorstep, I will have no choice but to hold you accountable.”

“Auntie, you’re hurt,” said Tecoli. “You really should be resting.”

Ihhuitl coughed again, her feathers ruffling from the air expunged from her lungs. “I’m fine, Tecoli. Besides, Princess Celestia saved my life, and risked herself for the sake of our people. Regardless of her mistakes, I owe her a measure of gratitude for that.”

“It is the least I can do after the turmoil your people have suffered today,” Celestia replied. “If there is anything else I can do to aid the injured, I will be happy to provide.”

“There is no need to worry,” said Ihhuitl. “We have more than enough supplies to treat the wounded.”

“As you wish,” said Celestia. “But if you ever have need of Equestria’s aid in the future, feel free to contact us.”

“I’m sure we’ll stay in touch,” said Xochitli. “But before you go, there is one thing I wanted to show you. Here, take this.” Xochitli reached into the folds of his robe, and pulled out a small codex, magazine-folded into the shape of a small pamphlet. “Consider it a simple gesture of peace between our nations.”

Celestia grabbed the codex in her telekinetic grip. Her eyes glanced over the pictograms on its front, which contained a variety of alchemical symbols.

“Thank you, Xochitli. I wish you and your people well.”

“And yours as well, Princess.”

Celestia gave one last goodbye to the three generals, and departed with the rest of her group to the airship. In short time, they were sailing through the air, towards the eastern horizon.

————————

The gentle shuffling of papers, paired with the scratches of her pen, were a comfortably familiar sound to Twilight Velvet’s ears. Though she’d been retired from her profession for over a year, the opportunity to edit another novel in her favorite series was too great for her to pass up. She eagerly took up the job at the first chance she had, and soon her work had settled into a routine that she’d missed dearly.

A gentle knocking came at the door to her bedroom, where she’d done her editing at a simple desk by the window. She hadn’t even noticed that night had fallen until she was pulled out of her fixation on her task. She turned her head towards the door, and smiled at the sight the familiar deep blue coat of her husband. As Night Light trotted in, he carried in his magical grip a simple manilla folder.

“Welcome home, honey!” said Twilight Velvet. “How was work?”

Night Light approached her, and gave her a gentle kiss on the neck. “Pretty good. Still editing your new novel?”

Twilight Velvet giggled. “Yup! Ms. Yearling gave me a copy of her latest draft, Daring Do and the Secret of Ape Island! Ooh, I’ve already read the whole thing, and it’s so exciting! What I wouldn’t give to live that kind of life!”

“Hey, just as long as you leave me out of it,” Night Light joked. He held up the folder in his grasp and grinned. “But wait until you hear what we’ve found at the observatory! We’ve discovered a new sunspot formation, but it’s unlike anything we’ve seen before. Unlike every other observed sunspot, they don’t appear to diminish or change over time. It’s like they’re not temporary formations, but permanent fixtures on the sun itself.”

“Sounds fascinating!” Twilight Velvet replied. “And you’ve got pictures of it in that folder?”

“That I do,” said Night Light. “They’re from a new ultraviolet photo technique we’ve developed to study the sunspots more closely. Here, take a look.”

Night Light opened the folder, pulling out a series of photographs, each of which depicted the sun in all of its intense, fiery majesty. As he levitated them out in front of him, Twilight Velvet stepped out of her chair, walking around to observe them by his side. As she stared at them, she could see the sunspot formations clearly. They had taken a strangely familiar shape, that of a doglike beast with ape-like arms, an elongated snout, and a prehensile tail with a hand on the end...

“Hey,” said Twilight Velvet, “doesn’t that look kind of like Ahuizotl?”

Night Light raised an eyebrow. He squinted, taking a closer look at the images, before his eyes widened again in apparent recognition.

“Huh,” he said. “You know, it kind of does.”

————————

Imprisoned in the Sun 1W

Enchantment

When Imprisoned in the Sun enters the battlefield, exile target artifact, creature, or planeswalker until Imprisoned in the Sun leaves the battlefield.

At the beginning of the precombat main phase of the exiled card’s owner, that player adds W.

Author's Note

Oof. This was definitely the most ambitious side-story I’ve committed to writing thus far, and it turned out to be a lot longer and more complex than I ever really thought it would be. Thankfully, it’s all finished now, which means I should be free to continue working on other things.

Now that it’s done with, here’s a bit of backstory for the worldbuilding thought process I had for this particular four-parter. See, there’s always been one bit of MLP’s lore that’s bothered me, specifically in regards to Princess Celestia’s job of raising and lower the sun. Namely, what exactly happens to the sun after it’s been lowered for the night?

It might not seem like an obvious question, but it’s one that only makes more sense to ask the more you think about it. Since we can be pretty certain at this point that the world of MLP isn’t flat, “lowering the sun” means that it’s simply made to rise over the opposite hemisphere. But what exactly controls the path of the sun while it’s over that hemisphere? There would have to be something moving it in the interim, or else Celestia wouldn’t be raising it over the eastern horizon the next morning. So what exactly is moving it during this time?

There are two possible answers to this question. The first is that “lowering the sun” simply means giving it an extra push so it has the momentum to go around the world until it reaches the eastern horizon again. This answer I found unsatisfactory, as it doesn’t quite make sense if you think about it: if the sun’s motion maintained its momentum in such a manner, then why would it even need to be raised and lowered to begin with? There’s very little friction in space, so an orbiting body would more than likely just keep orbiting since there’s next to nothing to slow down its motion.

The alternative interpretation is that the sun doesn’t maintain its momentum in the way we would expect it to in our world, which would lead us to our second answer. Namely, that when the sun is lowered, something else maintains its motion while it’s over the opposite hemisphere. That, ultimately, is the answer I went with, as it’s the answer that opens up more possibilities for new stories.

This leads me to the Cuetzpali Empire. I had previously established them as little more than a shout out to the then-current MtG storyline of Ixalan, namely as a parallel culture to the Sun Empire (and by extension, the real-life Aztecs.) That would mean that the answer would most likely fall with them. In turn, this opened up more possibilities for Ixalan parallels, given the Sun Empire’s obvious theming and the established presence of a sun-themed artifact. So, in that vein, I’d decided to give the Cuetzpali Empire a similar artifact, but with the intended purpose of keeping the continent in balance, (Emphasis on intended, as the Sphinx With a Perpetual Stick Up His Butt couldn’t go without screwing it up, as usual.)

Of course, some of you have probably noticed that this isn’t the only parallel here. The Cuetzpali Empire’s sun-controlling artifact shares a name with a particular Nintendo-published JRPG series. This was actually a parallel I’d stumbled onto completely by accident, believe it or not. Early on I’d decided that the Cuetzpali would use alchemy rather than traditional magic, since MLPlaneswalker lore establishes that ponies can only harness magic because their bodies contain alicorn, which acts as a natural magnet for mana. Thus, the cuetzpali’s magical feats would primarily be accomplished through the use of artifice rather than their own natural ability. (And that artifice is what eventually led to the development of psionics, which closely resemble but are otherwise distinct from traditional spellcasting.)

This ultimately led me to the Golden Sun parallel, as the series itself is named after — you guessed it — a sun-themed artifact that keeps the world in balance. And wouldn’t you know it, the series also places a heavy storyline emphasis on alchemy.

Lastly, there’s the Memory Stone and Sifa Grent. These were both last-minute changes to the plot I had planned out, but all things considered it worked very well for what I’d planned from the beginning. It helps that there’s no canon information about when Sifa ascended, so she could easily have been a pre-mending walker originally. (And for those wondering, Sifa’s cutie mark as a pony is a Grixis Charm.)

Unrelated to the story itself, you may notice that the wording for Imprisoned in the Sun is a bit weird. This is because, going forward, My Little Planeswalker is going to be using the updated card wording that will be introduced in the upcoming Dominaria expansion. You can read more about the changes here.

The Thing in the Moon, Part 1

Each night, after a session of dreamwalking, Princess Luna spent her time sitting in the throne room, attending to her Night Court. At least, if you could even call it a court. On some level she couldn’t blame the lack of attendance, given that most ponies were diurnal, though she still didn’t like how empty it felt. She had her Night Guards, and they provided her with plenty of companionship, but even they couldn’t stave off the loneliness forever.

That had all changed, one fateful night. A night guard with a grey coat and a dark blue mane pushed the door to the throne room open, her bat-like wings practically buzzing with excitement. Luna regarded her curiously as she approached.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant Echo?”

Echo suddenly snapped out of her excitement and assumed what she probably figured was serious military pose, but only ended up looking comically adorable. She cleared her throat before speaking. “Your Highness, someone wishes to have an audience with you.”

Luna blinked. “With me? I-I mean, yes, of course they would want an audience with me. Obviously. Please, bring them in.”

“Sure thing, Luna!” said Echo. “Um... I mean yes, Princess. Your Highness. Yes Princess Luna, Your Highness.” A slight blush appeared on her face. “I’ll, uh... just go and get her now.”

Echo quickly darted out of the throne room. Before long, she had returned, with the mysterious guest following closely behind her. With a hoof, she motioned for the guest to approach.

Luna leaned back in her throne at the sight of the guest, something very far from what she was expecting. She wasn’t a pony, for one. She was a beastfolk—a rabbitfolk, to be precise—yet her attire was very far from the rough and grimy clothes worn by the beastfolk who lived south of Equestria’s border. Her fur was a brilliant white, and a pair of long ears flopped down over her shoulders, across the silken green robes and brown backpack that covered her bipedal form. Mysterious bronze markings crossed her face, and the fur above her head grew into a very strangely-shaped body of hair, tied into a pair of v-shaped buns.

The rabbitfolk approached the throne, giving a bow. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Tamiyo, and I am a scholar from a land far away. I have long been fascinated by your moon, and I have come to you in the hopes of understanding its magic.”

“You came to see... me? Specifically?”

“That I have,” said Tamiyo. Her head tilted slightly, and she stared at Luna quizzically. “Is something wrong, Your Highness?”

Luna sniffled, suddenly aware that a tear was in her eye. “No, not at all. I just... I’m surprised you actually came to me. Very few ponies ever come to attend my Night Court.” Luna gave Tamiyo a smile. “But then again, I suppose you’re not a pony after all.”

Tamiyo’s features shifted slightly. A frown crossed her face, but it was difficult to read the emotion exactly. “I see. In any case, I was hoping for a chance to watch you lower the moon before the night ends. There are so many things I could learn from seeing your magic up close.”

“I...” Luna’s words caught in her throat, and her vision was blurred by a dampness in her eyes. In an instant, Echo was hovering by her side, holding a box of tissues. Luna grabbed one in her magic and loudly blew into it, before tossing it aside. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cause a scene. I just... I’m so happy that someone actually wants to watch me attend to my duties. I never thought there’d be such a night. Echo, could you remind me what time it is right now?”

Echo stared at her front leg, at a simple bronze watch on her ankle. “Um... Looks like you won’t have to lower the moon for another... thirty-five minutes? Yeah, thirty-five. Thirty-four now, actually.”

Luna nodded. “Thank you, Echo. Tamiyo, since I won’t be lowering the moon for a while, you’re free to stay in the palace. Echo will escort you to you to your guest room.”

A slight smile appeared on Tamiyo’s face. “I appreciate your hospitality, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

————————

The next half-hour was one of the longest half-hours that Luna had waited in her entire life. The very thought of having someone there to watch her lower the moon? It was almost too much. Sure, she had her chance to make a spectacle of it in front of a crowd once a year, but it was an impersonal affair, something that ponies watched with distant reverence.

But tonight was something else entirely. Here, she had an entirely personal audience. Even though lowering the moon was a routine activity, something about the presence of another felt like all the difference in the world. Luna stood at the edge of her balcony, her wings twitching by her sides as she periodically looked back into her room for any sign of Tamiyo’s approach. Though plenty of castle staff had seen the inside of her bedroom, none had ever stood with her on the platform. It was a special place, one where she could see the sky unrestricted, the stars shining down from above in all of their glittering majesty.

Luna’s ears swiveled around. The gentle creaking of a door alerted her to the arrival of another. She looked, and saw Tamiyo approaching through the bedroom entrance as her guards held the double-doors open. As she trained her eyes on her visitor, she couldn’t help but notice that Tamiyo was walking unusually sluggishly, a gait far removed from the quick and graceful hops Luna would expect of a rabbitfolk. In her right hand was a simple quill with a tip dipped in ink, and in her left she carried an open journal. As she stepped beyond the outer doors and onto the balcony, a smile crossed Luna’s face.

“I’m glad you could make it tonight,” said Luna. “It is almost time for me to lower the moon. Shall we begin?”

Tamiyo nodded gently, lightly pressing the tip of her quill against a blank page of her journal. “I am ready whenever you are.”

Luna closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the brisk night air pass into her lungs. What she was about to do was something she had done countless times, yet now her breath felt heavy and thick with anticipation. Her eyes clamped shut, and she reached out with her senses, closing out everything else but herself and the gentle aura of the moonlight. She felt the familiar magic channel itself through her horn, and the subsequent touch of silver running down through the length of her body. The moment where the moon passed the horizon lingered in her perceptions, the moment where it slipped beyond her reach and into the domain of the west. The cool breeze passed through her, swirling and nipping at her wings, and the earth’s vitality tickled the bottoms of her hooves, dancing and flickering up from deep beneath the castle’s foundation. It was now, during the short span of time before her sister woke to raise the sun, that Luna felt most attuned to the world. For the briefest moment, she had no burdens to bear, no dreams to nurture, no worldly matters to weigh down her heart. Just her, and the stillness that came just before the dawn.

But it isn’t just me this time, Luna thought. In more than a thousand years of living, and more than one-hundred and fifty of them conscious, she couldn’t even recall the last time another had stood by her side like this. Her sister perhaps, or maybe her old mentor, but once her duties became routine they had not roused from their slumber soon enough to watch.

Her eyes opened, and she saw Tamiyo gazing at the starlit sky. The scratches of her quill against her parchment tickled Luna’s eardrums. Something warm welled up within her chest, tugging gently upwards at the corners of her mouth.

“Did you like it?”

Tamiyo gracefully rolled her scroll up, placing both it and her quill in the grasp of a single palm. “Very much so. Once again, I’d like thank you for providing me this opportunity, Your Highness.” She gave another quick bow, in a manner that Luna found strangely familiar. She hadn’t noticed it before, in the throne room, but here...

“You know,” said Luna, “now that I get a closer look at it, I believe I’ve seen your manner of dress before.”

Tamiyo stood up straight, just slowly enough to maintain a graceful motion, yet quickly enough that Luna could tell she was startled. “Oh?” she said, her voice remaining measured despite herself.

Luna nodded. “Yes. In the land of Neighpon, to the east. I once visited there in my youth, during my very first diplomatic excursion.” Memories danced at the edge of her mind’s eye, distant yet vivid. A wistful breath escaped her nostrils. “I was but a mere filly, but I recall earning quite a few admirers among the other young ones.” As the recollections of centuries past sprung forth, Luna gave a soft giggle. “The other children even had their own nickname for me, if you can believe it! ‘Kaguya-hime,’ they called me.”

Tamiyo returned the smile. “You sound like you’ve had a lot of experience in other lands.”

“Oh, yes, absolutely! Granted, I don’t have as much opportunity to do so as I used to, but I do have quite a few tales to tell of my travels in my youth. ” Luna paused briefly. There were already the beginnings of a thought forming in her mind, and the closer it came to realization, the wider her grin became! “Oh! That gives me an idea! Why don’t you meet me back here tomorrow night to exchange stories?”

Tamiyo frowned. “Stories?”

“Yes, of course!” said Luna. Her legs felt light on their hooves, and soon they were dancing in place without any input of her own. Laughter bubbled up from her chest, echoing across the balcony in giddy bursts. “Whenever my sister and I went our separate ways in our youths, we’d always share stories of our travels when we returned! And we could do the same thing, only we wouldn’t have to leave each other! I could tell you about the places I’ve been to, and you could tell me about some of the places you’ve been! Won’t that be... what was the word again? Fun! Yes, won’t that be fun?”

Tamiyo paused. Her nose twitched slightly, as though unsure of what her face wanted to do. Several seconds passed, until she finally spoke. “Alright,” she said.

“Yes!” Luna cried out. She reared up onto her hind legs, wrapping her front legs tightly around Tamiyo’s waist. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Um, Your Highness?”

Luna pulled away, releasing Tamiyo from her iron grip. As she did, she felt a sudden heat rising through her cheeks. “Ah. Right. Breathing. My apologies.”

Tamiyo smiled gently. “It’s quite alright, Princess. I should be getting some sleep, regardless. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow night.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” said Luna. “Good night! Or good morning, whichever it is! Or both! Bye! See you again! Come back soon!”

As Tamiyo headed out past the balcony and through the doors, Luna’s farewells gradually descended into uncontrolled giggling. Her legs once again flew wildly out of her control, and the her hoofsteps clattered across the floor as she found herself prancing about the balcony.

“Luna? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

The voice cut clear across the air. Luna’s head rapidly swiveled to the side, around the length of the tower, towards a second balcony that was positioned on another tower just to the east of hers. There stood Celestia, free of her public regalia, standing with a posture that was still slightly droopy.

“Sister! You’ll never guess what happened!” said Luna. “I made a friend!”

————————

Luna of the Night 3UUB

Legendary Creature — Horse Wizard

Alicorn (This card is a Horse, Pegasus, and Unicorn in addition to its other creature types.)

Flying, hexproof

When Luna of the Night deals combat damage to a player, draw a card for each tapped creature that player controls. That player puts that many cards from the top of their library into their graveyard.

3/4

The Thing in the Moon, Part 2

The next day had been uneventful, much as Luna’s days had always been. After so many years of raising and lowering the moon, and tending to the dreams of her subjects, her duties had become so dreadfully routine that they all blended together. Nightmare Night was the one night a year that she looked forward to, despite her initial reservations towards the holiday. Yet even still, she always managed to convince herself that it was worthwhile, all to see her subjects grow and develop into the best ponies they could be. After all, the last time she grew dissatisfied...

...it was something she preferred not to think about. She was beyond that now.

As Luna sifted through the seemingly endless dreamscape, sorting through the thousands of thoughtborn bubbles that drifted through the collective unconscious, one of them stood out to her in particular. While every other bubble was transparent, showing a window into vivid images that flashed by like lightning, this one was different. It was an inky black glob that hovered in place, not a single hint of what was inside showing through its opacity. Luna’s mind idly hovered over to the bubble, and probed it gently with a touch of her magic.

Immediately, the dream pushed back. It repelled Luna with a force so intense that it nearly severed her connection to the dreamscape. It took an active effort prevent herself from being forcibly ejected back into her awaiting body, where it lay entranced in the waking world. It sent an icy chill rippling through her astral projection, touching the very core of her soul. When she was brought back to her senses, all she could do was stare at the unmoving bubble.

That’s no dream. That’s a nightmare. There was no doubt in her mind about that. But it won’t let me in. Why?

An idle thought crossed Luna’s mind. For Tamiyo to watch her lower the moon the night before, she would have had to adhere to an unusual circadian rhythm, much like Luna herself. The dream was not like any she had seen before, and had only appeared after Tamiyo had sought an audience. Curiosity gnawed at Luna’s astral form, where her chest would be if she had retained her body, followed by an even deeper pang of worry.

I know this torment, Luna thought. If it truly belongs to her, she won’t tell me if I ask directly. Yet I cannot do nothing. That way lies disaster.

Determination wrapped itself around her, tugging at her from within through a set of invisible strings. The night was getting older still, and it would not be long before she would return to the waking world to attend to her court. She couldn’t ignore the nightmare, but she couldn’t force herself into it either. She would have to seek the truth on its own time, when it was ready.

Luna put the thought away, and continued the rest of her nightly journey through the world of dreams. The answers would come to her soon enough.

———————

The night had soon given way to the earliest hours of the morning. Luna had already returned to her body, standing on the very same balcony where Tamiyo had met her before. As the minutes ticked down to the moment when she would lower the moon, her eyes kept darting back towards the entrance to her room, expecting her new friend to approach at any moment.

Sure enough, just one minute before her task was due, Tamiyo entered through the double-doors to the bedroom, invited in by the twin guards standing watch on the outside. She moved with a grace and fluidity that was far more natural than her sluggish gait the day prior, her feet giving dull thumps on the floorboard as she deftly hopped forward. She proceeded through the remainder of the bedroom, quickly making her way to through the open doors to the overhanging balcony.

Luna’s expression turned to a grin. “I’m happy to see you’ve learned to use your legs.”

Tamiyo’s face went blank. She stared back at Luna, at an apparent loss for words.

Luna’s smile vanished. “Ah. I’m sorry, that was a joke. I haven’t offended you, have I?”

“No, it’s fine.” Tamiyo managed to smile back, but it was a hollow gesture, wooden and stiff. “I’m just glad you gave me this opportunity, Your Highness. There is still so much I can learn about your magic up close.”

A part of Luna demanded that she press further, but ultimately she decided to let it be. “And I’m happy to have you as a guest. It’s nearly time to perform my duty, so let us not delay any further.”

Tamiyo nodded along, signalling her agreement. Luna closed her eyes and felt the familiar sensation of magic running through her horn. Before long, her grasp had touched against the silvery light of the moon. Lowering the heavenly body beneath the horizon was practically a reflex at this point, but now she was made aware of her magic’s every motion by Tamiyo’s watchful eyes.

When the moon finally dipped out of sight, Luna opened her eyes, and let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding in. Her heart fluttered within her chest cavity, and her muzzle split into a wide grin. Now was the moment she had been waiting all night for. Tamiyo returned the smile, at some point having taken out her quill and scroll to take notes of the moon’s motion.

“So, how about it?” said Luna.

Tamiyo paused. There was again a stiffness to her appearance that Luna couldn’t quite articulate in words. “How about what?”

“Trading stories,” Luna replied. “You agreed we would, remember?”

“Ah,” said Tamiyo. “Yes, of course. My apologies, Princess, it must have slipped my mind.” There was another pause, and her nose twitched slightly. “Why don’t you go first?”

Luna giggled lightly. “Of course! Here’s one that I think you’ll like.” She sat onto her haunches, in the same comfortable position she’d always taken when sharing tales with her elder sister. “Many centuries ago, shortly after the fall of Old Equestria, an ancient evil threatened to awaken once more...”

The words flowed out seamlessly as she was drawn into the vivid pictures of her own mind. Luna told of the story of her fillyhood, how her quit life with her sister was torn away when her village was drawn into the dark realm of Tambelon, the deepest circle of Tartarus. She told of fearsome Grogar, the demonic caprine necromancer, and the apocalyptic bells he wore that commanded legions of the dead. She told of the horrors he and her sister witnessed as every other pony they knew was dragged away and captured, brought to his fortress as slaves.

She told of the unicorn wizard Gusty the Great, who reunited the three pony tribes after they had split apart five years prior, and of the alliance born out of the mutual threat they faced. And while Gusty’s army traveled to Tambelon to raid Grogar’s fortress, she told, Luna and her sister infiltrated the inner sanctum, confronting the mad necromancer himself. And Luna told of how her sister distracted Grogar, challenging him directly, while she snuck behind him from the shadows. She told of how two of them acting together stole the Bells of Tambelon right from beneath Grogar’s neck, turning their power against him. As the final blow was struck, their great deed sparked their ascension, and Luna and her sister became the first alicorns the world had ever known.

By the time Luna had finished her tale, Tamiyo had become just as entranced by it as herself. She sat quietly on the balcony’s surface, her large feet jutting out from her cross-legged position.

“So,” said Luna, “did you like it?”

Tamiyo smiled sagely. “Yes. I quite enjoyed it, Your Highness.”

A light giggle made its way past Luna’s throat. “Excellent! Now, you go next!”

“Hm?” Tamiyo frowned, her nose twitching ever-so-slightly. “Are you certain?”

“That is what we agreed,” said Luna, “was it not?”

Tamiyo paused. Her whiskers swayed gently in the breeze. “No, you’re right,” she said. “I think I do have something I can share with you.”

And as she began to speak, Luna was at once astonished by the skill and eloquence with which she spun her tale. Tamiyo was a skilled orator, perhaps one of the most skilled that Luna had ever witnessed, every phrase and sentence cascading over the imagination like poetry.

She told of an land far away, ruled by a great and terrible Emperor whose power could shatter mountains. She told of the empire’s Champion, a man torn between his honor and his master. She told of the Champion’s turn from the tyrannical regime, and how he destroyed the very seat of the Emperor’s power. She told of how the Emperor, enraged, pursued the Champion into a realm of purest thought. She told of, unknown to him, the Emperor had been lured into a trap, allowing the Champion to put an end to his reign.

But as Tamiyo told her story, Luna couldn’t help but notice that something was amiss. Names and locations were kept vague, hidden beneath layers of verse so elaborate that most would not think to probe further. Yet despite the skill with which she danced around giving any details, the meaning behind it all was clear.

She’s hiding something from me, thought Luna. But why?

Before Luna could get the chance to interrogate further, a bright light suddenly flared from the edge of her vision. Sure enough, the sun had begun to peer over horizon, signalling the arrival of her sister.

Luna sighed. “I’m sorry Tamiyo, but I’m afraid I will have to cut this short. My sister will expect that I join her for our daily breakfast. Perhaps we could continue this on the morrow’s night?”

Tamiyo paused again. Luna could read the uncertainty in her features, but couldn’t tell where it had come from. Finally, she replied, “I would be glad to.”

“Most wonderful!” said Luna. “I look forward to sharing stories with you again.”

Luna saw Tamiyo off as she departed through the balcony and bedchamber, and exited into the palace hallways. As she turned out of sight, a new certainty made itself clear within Luna’s thoughts.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will find my answers.

————————

The following night, Luna returned to the dreamscape, the thoughts of her previous visit pressing heavily on her mind. She could not have forgotten what she had seen before even if she’d tried. So focused was she on the impenetrable nightmare she’d discovered before, that she could barely care to watch over the dreams of her own subjects. The mystery was enticing, and she spent nearly an hour searching for the same dream, the same blackened presence that blemished the otherwise pristine realm of sleep.

And sure enough, she had found it. Despite the thousands upon thousands of dreams she had sifted through to find it, she could only wonder how she had not found it sooner. As impossible as it seemed, the pitch-black glob she had seen the night before had somehow managed to grow even darker, to the point where the dreamscape itself seemed grew darker in its presence. Just looking at it, she could feel the terror and desperation radiating from its presence, sending a deep shudder through her soul.

A new sense of urgency swelled within Luna, tugging at the heart of her astral form. It’s gotten worse. I have to do something.

With a great surge of power in her horn, Luna charged forward, rushing towards the tainted dream-bubble. The nightmare had before resisted all attempts to enter it, and yet she could think of no other way. If it would not let her in, she would simply have to force it to.

All her efforts ultimately proved fruitless, as no matter how much she attempted to pierce it, the dream remained resolute. Every effort she made to push through was only met with an equal and opposite push from the nightmare, every attempt to breach its surface met it bouncing her back, as though she were being yanked backwards by a rubber band.

After more tries than she could care to count, Luna was only left to stare at the nightmare bubble, fatigue aching through her form despite having left her body behind. Already the other dreams surrounding her were beginning to fade out of existence as the late hours of the night slowly gave way to the earliest hours before the sun’s rise.

With an incorporeal sigh, Luna resigned herself to her failure. There was little time to waste, before meeting with Tamiyo for their nightly session. With a gentle glow of her horn, she fell away from the world of dreams, drifting back into her awaiting body. As she stirred, guilt and pity loomed over her waking mind, only able to imagine how the unfortunate soul trapped in the nightmare must be suffering.

Next time I will succeed, was her first waking thought. I will because I must.

————————

Repeating Terrors 1BB

Enchantment — Aura

Enchant creature you control

Sacrifice enchanted creature: Return target creature card from your graveyard to the battlefield.

Sacrifice two creatures: Return Repeating Terrors from your graveyard to your hand.

Those confined by sleep are at the mercy of their dreams.

Author's Note

The aim of this chapter’s card was to design a version of Recurring Nightmare that can enable neat card interactions but isn’t utterly broken.

I don’t know how well I succeeded, to be honest, but the idea of Recurring Nightmare is interesting and I’d love to see it revisited in a way that had more game balance.

The Thing in the Moon, Part 3

Something is terribly wrong.

The thought had crossed her mind at several points before. The way Tamiyo had acted the previous night, the blackened nightmare that had been appearing in the dream realm ever since she had arrived... she could tell from the beginning was off about her. Yet now, staring her in the face, it was more obvious than ever that the problem was worse than she had ever anticipated.

The blackened sphere of terror that she had seen the past two nights had returned, but now it was far beyond what it had been before. Its size had grown to nearly double that of the previous night. The shadows that it cast across the dreamscape were fluid and tangible, flowing from the nightmare into the surrounding area. Like a stream of murky oil, the darkness leaked out and pooled below it, into a puddle that hung suspended in the weightless space of dreams.

If it gets any larger, it will start corrupting the surrounding dreams, thought Luna. But if I wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the nightmare before, there’s no way I could penetrate it now. What am I to do?

Looking at it now, seeing how the nightmare had grown, seeing how it would grow if left unchecked, it was clear inaction was not an option. Yet despite the urgency that tugged at her from within, there was also a sense of powerlessness. She must do something, yet here she could do nothing.

Duality and contradiction. Those were things she had grown extensively familiar with throughout her life. Yet from those contradictions bore strength, the capacity to see things from perspectives that others would dare not approach.

Already, an idea began to form, illuminating the dim corners of her mind. If I cannot solve this problem in the dream realm, thought Luna, then I must solve the problem outside of it.

For now, Luna would focus on watching over the dreams she could. Come her return to the waking world, she would find an answer.

———————

Luna arrived on the balcony greeted by a chill that crawled down the entire length of her horn. The skies were dark and overcast, the weather teams having made sure to cover the starry nightscape with a thick layer of fluffy clouds. Only a scant few strands of silvery light made their way down from her moon. Despite the ever-familiar resonance of the moon’s ambient magic with her soul, she couldn’t but feel that it was more distant to her than ever. A deep breath filled her lungs with the night’s cool air, her thoughts turning to the one she had come here to see.

Tamiyo will arrive here soon enough, Luna thought. It was all she could do to reassure herself. With the nightmare, everything about her all seemed... uncertain, somehow.

And so, Luna waited. She waited, and waited, and waited. She sat diligently, and as the minutes ticked by, the moon dipped below the line of clouds above, becoming fully visible at the edge of the western sky. Its path slowed, the momentum from its rise earlier that night waning, until finally it hung motionless at the edge of the horizon.

It was time to lower the moon, at last. Yet Tamiyo wasn’t there.

A void opened up within her heart, like a yawning chasm. Her breath held tightly in her chest as she stood to her hooves. I cannot delay my task. I’m sorry, Tamiyo.

Luna closed her eyes, and tapped once more into her magic. A simple push, and her heavenly namesake was sent into the awaiting grasp of the forces on the opposite hemisphere.

What could have happened to her? Luna thought. She closed her eyes, feeling the question linger like an itch in the corner of her mind, burning and irritating as it snaked its way into her chest. Did she get hurt? Did she not awake? Did I drive her away?

“No, Your Highness. I’m right here.”

Luna’s head turned around toward the voice, fast enough that it nearly gave her whiplash. “Tamiyo!” She said, beaming. “Thank the stars! I was worried you’d never show!”

“I am aware,” said Tamiyo. Already Luna could see the newfound slouch in her posture, and the heavy bags beneath her eyes. “I had heard you the first time.”

“Heard me?” Luna’s face went blank, save for the slow blinking of her eyes. “Wait. Was I speaking out loud before I saw you?”

“You were,” Tamiyo replied with a gentle smile. “You must spend a lot of time alone if you hadn’t noticed.”

A dull sting rang through Luna’s chest cavity, though she knew Tamiyo had not meant to hurt her. “I... don’t have many opportunities to form bonds with other ponies,” she lamented. “My sister has always been there, and my guards...” Luna paused briefly, coughing gently into her hoof. “...well, they fulfill certain, ah... seasonal needs. But I can’t say there’s ever been much in the way of attachment between us.”

Tamiyo blinked rapidly. For a brief second, Luna could vaguely make out a hint of color in her cheeks. “Ah. Right,” she said. “Are you saying, then, that you don’t have any other friends?”

Luna sighed. “I... no. Not really. Princess Twilight and her own friends have been on good terms with me, but I rarely see them while they’re awake. Even when I visit them in dreams, half the time they don’t even remember it when they wake up.”

The corners of Tamiyo’s mouth edged downward. “I see. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

Luna’s eyes scanned Tamiyo’s body, noting the disheveled fur and wrinkled clothes. Though subtle, the aura of tranquility and focus that seemed to surround her at all times was waning. “It’s alright,” Luna reassured. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been far more worried about you these past few hours.”

Though Tamiyo remained stolid, a slight twitch of her nose betrayed a stir of emotion. “About me?”

“Yes,” said Luna. “Tamiyo, I...” She breathed in sharply, the air catching in her throat. There was no going back now. “...there is something I must ask of you. Have you been sleeping well?”

Tamiyo paused, and her frown deepened. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Unfortunately, I have reason to believe that is not the case,” said Luna. “Since the day you’d arrived, I have noticed a powerful nightmare in the dream realm, one that I have not found a way to enter despite my best efforts. I believe this nightmare is none other than your own.”

“That nightmare could belong to anyone,” said Tamiyo. “I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

“Perhaps it is merely coincidence,” Luna replied, “but I also have noticed that you do not appear well-rested tonight. If you are having difficulty sleeping, then that would explain why you arrived late.”

Tamiyo went silent. A gentle breeze blew in the wind, and her eyes briefly turned away.

“Moreover,” said Luna, “I have also noticed something particularly odd about the story you shared with me last night.”

Tamiyo’s nose twitched again, and her body briefly stiffened. “Odd?”

“We had agreed to share stories of ourselves with each other,” Luna elaborated, “yet I did not hear you mention yourself in your story even once.”

“It must have simply slipped my mind,” Tamiyo said. “I appreciate your concern, Princess, but I have been sleeping just fine.”

Luna paid the remark no mind. Even a casual observation of Tamiyo’s posture had proven it untrue. “And of this ‘Emperor’ you told of?” she continued. “What of his Champion? I have traveled many lands, yet I have not heard of any places where such figures have existed. Given the circumstances, I have trouble believing that your story was entirely fiction. Why would you go through such trouble to tell a story without giving even a single name?”

Tamiyo’s ears twitched slightly. Her eyes became distant and unfocused, and she clutched the fabric her robe tightly with a single hand, expressing the sudden tension that had built within her grip. Seeing her now, Luna no longer had any uncertainty left in her mind.

“I’m not upset with you, Tamiyo,” Luna continued. “I’m merely asking because I’m concerned for your well-being. I want to help you, but I can’t if you keep hiding yourself from me. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

“No.” The word was uttered quickly and sharply. Tamiyo’s eyes had gone wild, quivering beneath the dim light between moonset and sunrise. She breathed in, and laboriously exhaled, letting the tension in her body melt away. “I am sorry, Your Highness, but the truth is not for you to know.”

Luna’s shifted her head silently, blinking rapidly. “What? Tamiyo, what are you talking about? I’m only trying to help you!”

“And I am trying to help you!” Tamiyo pushed back. Her body was still trembling slightly, and Luna could just barely see moisture building in the corners of her eyes. “Truth is a powerful tool, one that I have dedicated my entire life to seeking. Truth can liberate the mind and illuminate the soul, but there are times when knowing it can only ever bring misery. If I have ever kept the truth hidden from you, it’s because you don’t deserve to suffer it.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” said Luna. “Tamiyo, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to isolate yourself to protect me. I’ve already suffered more hardships than anypony could ever ask for.”

“And you will suffer more if you continue,” said Tamiyo. “I am begging of you, don’t pursue this matter any further.”

“But—”

“I have nothing more to say to you, Princess. You must understand, it’s for your own good.”

As Tamiyo turned away, Luna was left only to stare as she exited the balcony, and disappeared through the door at the bedchamber’s far end. She fell to her haunches, feeling the cold air bristling against her coat.

Behind her, a bright light flared from beyond the horizon, and she felt the familiar tingle of her elder sister’s magic running down her horn. She looked upwards, further up the tower’s length, and saw Celestia staring at her from atop her own balcony.

“Luna? Is everything alright?”

Luna stood to her hooves, and turned to meet Celestia’s gaze. “Forgive me, sister, but I’ll be skipping our morning breakfast today. There is something that I must do.”

———————

Under normal circumstances, Luna would not think to enter the realm of dreams after the sun had risen, but then the time for normal circumstances had already long passed.

She had a hunch the night before, that Tamiyo would have to alter her sleeping pattern in order to observe the lowering of the moon. That she would spend time asleep before their nightly session, and time asleep directly afterward. That would be the least radical change to a normal circadian rhythm, and one that she would have adjusted to easily enough to attend their nightly sessions.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she drifted through the dreamscape, and saw exactly what she was looking for. The other dreams had all but disappeared as ponies across Equestria stirred from their slumber, but one dream in particular remained. The very same nightmare that had weighed on her thoughts since it had first appeared. Absent the multitude of other dreams within the ethereal realm, its presence loomed over Luna’s form larger than it ever had before. It was a black sun rising over the dreamscape, casting rays of blistering darkness over all that lay beneath it. Luna shuddered as she stared at orb, feeling its shadows wash over her.

Here’s hoping this will work...

With no other option of approach left, Luna charged forward. Her horn lit ablaze with all of the strength she could muster, pushing away the darkness. With the full force of her magic behind her, her astral form collided with the nightmare, the impact sending a dull noise across the dreamscape. Her mind was left reeling in the wake of her attempt, her senses blurred and disoriented.

When awareness returned to her, Luna nearly gasped aloud. She had failed to penetrate the nightmare, as she’d expected.

What she did not expect was that the nightmare would attempt to pull her in.

Her front hooves were stuck to the surface of the dark orb, its black, oil-like material now a viscous, powerful adhesive. Luna’s wings flapped mightily, pulling herself away, yet the strands of the nightmare remained attached to her, resisting her pull as she backed away. A sharp snap rang through her ears, and her senses were immediately jolted by another collision. When she regained her coherence, she found her entire body stuck to the orb. The entire side of her body was pressed against the nightmare, her wing squished uncomfortably between her barrel and the orb’s grimy, sticky exterior.

The surface of the orb rippled. The unpleasant sensation of oil against Luna’s skin deepened, covering more and more of her body. Looking outward, she could see the dreamscape rapidly retreating from view.

“No!” Luna shouted. “Let go! Let go—”

Luna’s desperate cries were muffled before she could finish them. The nightmare enveloped her, and the entire world went dark.

———————

Koz...

A word, half-coherent, came unbidden into Luna’s mind. It was the only reminder she had that she was still alive, still conscious.

...ilek... dead...

Despite lacking a body, Luna’s astrally projected form was wracked with an impossible pain. More words, more thoughts, intruded upon her mind, the meaning of which she did not know. As the recollection of what had happened moments before rushed to the front of her mind, a sense of urgency flooded into her chest.

Her mind still in a haze, Luna’s eyes opened. Her limbs shook beneath her as she slowly stood to her hooves. Only when the pain cleared away and her vision stopped swimming did she take the time to identify her surroundings.

She was standing atop a large rocky hill, beneath a night sky enveloped by a sea of dark and murky clouds. Below her, a series of three dirt roads cut across the grassy terrain, extending into a distant clifftop overhanging a massive lake. There, connected by elaborate stone gates and bridges, the roads converged at the edge of large city, where layers upon layers of walls and bulwarks circled a vista of elaborate stonework buildings. The windows of the largest towers glowed with a magic that tickled the base of Luna’s horn; it reminded her of her sister’s magic, yet was distinct in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

Either way, the city was one that she had never seen before in her life. And the clouds above it parted, she could immediately tell why.

There was a moon in the sky, but it was not her moon.

The new object glowed with a light more intense than any she had seen in the night sky, and it radiated a magic that far outstripped any she had felt from her own heavenly namesake. Beneath its silvery radiance, Luna felt comforted, safe. Yet the earth below her told a different story. As her hooves extended their sense into the land, the land reacted with waves of hostility, sending her astral form’s stomach into a fit of churning nausea. The message the land sent to her was clear. Wherever she was now, she was neither safe nor welcome.

Kozilek... dead.

“W-what?” Luna’s head spun around, trying to locate the source of the voice that had pierced through the still air. Yet wherever she looked, there was nothing to be found.

Children... dead.

“Who said that!?” Luna’s voice trembled, her eyes darting wildly about. “Show yourself!”

Kozilek is dead my children are life are eternity long live Kozilek.

A sharp chill shot down the length of Luna’s spine. She could sense the danger that lurked all around her, yet nowhere could her eyes perceived. Her mind raced and struggled to remain in control, yet in the end her rational thoughts retreated as fear overtook her thoughts. Driven solely by instinct, Luna’s wings beat mightily, and she took to the air. Her flight path carried her towards the city, where she could only hope that its walls would offer some meager protections.

Luna’s skin crawled, her gut twisting itself into a knot. Something was following her. What it was, she couldn’t say, but she couldn’t stop moving. To stop moving would invite death. She flew further, pushing ever closer to the city, letting the warmth of its holy magic wash more and more over her thaumic senses.

An unearthly shriek filled the air. Luna turned around, and saw an abomination unlike anything she had ever witnessed. It had once, perhaps, been a creature not unlike the humans in the world she’d explored so many centuries ago. Now, it was a monster of twisted flesh, writhing tentacles, and feathered wings dripping with blood. Its twin faces howled with the fury and madness of a thousand Tartarus demons, and it lunged in the air with its finger-claws brandished.

Luna did not even have the time to scream before the monster’s arms, twisted and bifurcated, snatched her out of the air. She felt the creature’s flesh writhing and pulsating against her skin as it brought her closer, towards the light that glowed within the center of its chest...

“LET GO OF ME!”

The shout reverberated through the air with as much volume as Luna could muster. Power surged through her horn, and a piercing bolt of deep blue light shot forward, ascending into the night sky. It pierced the monster straight through the center of its chest, sending it into a writhing fit of spasm as it shrieked in pain. Blood and ichor spilled across Luna’s body as the monster released its grip, and she was sent tumbling onto the ground.

The impact once again sent Luna’s perceptions into a haze, and as she struggled to stand, a sharp pain shot through her wing. She would not be able to fly in such a state, that much was obvious. More worrying, however, was the fact that she was still within the very same dream as moments before; such an intense shock should have sent her immediately back to her awaiting body. Yet still, she was here.

Through her blurred vision, Luna could see the cobblestone streets and stone walls of the city, but beyond that there was little she could make out. There were things moving, blurred and indistinct, and as her vision returned to focus she could see them for what they truly were.

Superficially, they appeared human, but their bodies had become twisted and gnarled in horrible ways, flesh grown out and extended into lattices of putrid muscle and sinew. Moans echoed in unison from their throats, echoing the words that intruded directly into Luna’s mind.

The Great Work...

Role... unfilled...

Where is... the heir?

“W-what? Heir?” said Luna. Her head darted about, seeing the mob approach her from all angles. She was surrounded, with no path to escape.

Exuberant one...

One without bounds...

Heir of Distortion...

“No!” Luna shouted to the unlistening hordes. They continued to close in on her, shambling inexorably towards her from all sides. “Stay away! I don’t know of any heir! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

She is here. She was always here.

Yet still she eludes us.

You will lead us to her.

“NO! GO AWAY!”

Luna’s piercing scream echoed across the night, and from her magic erupted a burst of liquid shadow. Waves upon waves of cosmic darkness launched outward from her horn, the very essence of the void between stars made manifest. The monsters shriveled at its touch, shrinking and withering with each subsequent burst of cosmic decay. When the last wave subsided, the monsters were gone.

A sharp breath escaped Luna’s throat. Her strength had become utterly drained, and she was left with nothing but a gaping emptiness within her where her magic would be. Her astral form waned, and she could feel herself shrinking away. From the tingle of tail hairs against the back of her hind legs, she could feel that her mane had lost its ethereal quality. A cursory glance behind her showed that it no longer resembled the night sky, instead reverting to the pale blue color that it had held when she was a filly. Another sharp tinge of pain reminded her that she was still injured, and her legs turned to jelly as she collapsed onto the cold stone street below.

Luna attempted to cry, but she was too exhausted to give even a single sob. Her throat burned, and all she could do was tremble.

And then the clouds above the city parted, and in the sky Luna witnessed everything she did not know.

The thing she saw was easily the size of a mountain, Its body a composite of stony hide and fleshy lattices. Though perfectly symmetrical, It expanded outwards in directions that Luna struggled to perceive — any attempt she made to map out Its dimensions in her mind’s eye were met with only a splitting headache. The cleft within the center of Its form shone down with a putrid purple light, and Luna could feel Its presence battering against the walls of her mind. Massive tentacles extended downwards in the distant cityscape, raking against the stone buildings and reducing them to ashen rubble.

“I... Ia’m...” The words that escaped Luna’s throat were not her own. She could feel It within her, taking her, using her. By all means the experience should have been horrifying, but her past traumas, she realized, had left her numb to the forces that sought to control her.

Luna closed her eyes, and relinquished herself. There was nothing else that she could do. There was nothing left but to lie there, and await the end that It promised.

A warm sensation tickled at the base of Luna’s horn. It was a familiar magic, one that she could almost swear she had felt before. As the magic intensified, she realized what it had been. Though she had not been conscious during her thousand-year exile, Luna was left with vague memories of the moon’s silvery warmth enveloping her, protecting her, nurturing her. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but at times she believed her moon was shielding the last sliver of her true self from the Nightmare.

But now it was undeniable that the magic she now felt was the same magic. She looked upwards, and saw the moon shine downward, a glyph of triangular patterns etched across its surface. The radiant silver moonbeam struck the creature — struck It — and the creature was at once enveloped by the moon’s power. The creature stretched, distorted, twisting in an impossible direction as It flew upwards towards the heavenly body, until at last It snapped. It folded inwards, shrinking and collapsing, until at last It vanished. The moonbeam faded from view, and Luna was left only to stare at the heavenly body that had saved her.

Fatigue at last overcame Luna’s astral form, and her vision became blurry. As her mind fell unconscious, she could see a vague humanlike figure floating towards her across the ruined streets, elongated ears flowing in the breeze.

————————

Void’s Embrace 2B

Sorcery

Put X -1/-1 counters on target creature you control, where X is that creature’s toughness minus 1. Each other creature gets -X/-X until end of turn.

To harness the void between stars, one must embrace the stillness of eternity.

The Thing in the Moon, Part 4

Luna was nowhere.

At least, she was nowhere that should exist. She knew she wasn’t dead... or at least, she was fairly sure she wasn’t. She had, on rare occasions, tended to the dreams of the dying. Luna had grown acquainted enough with death to recognize her doorstep.

But if Luna wasn’t dead, it wouldn’t make sense for her to be here. A seemingly endless void, a pristine expanse of white extending in all directions as far as she could see. She had no memory of this place, and yet... all the same, it felt familiar. Like something tickling at the back of her mind, something that didn’t belong.

A sharp pain shot down the base of Luna’s horn. She clutched at her head, and was assaulted by images of a monster beyond her wildest reckoning. That thing. The thing that had been sealed with a moon that was not hers. Its merest presence had corrupted her, forcing her to retreat to this place... a place she had hoped never to see again.

She had been here once before. Once, for a span of a thousand years. Trapped within the deepest depths of her own mind.

A soft patter struck the surface below her. She wasn’t even aware she was standing on anything. Everything in this place existed only in the abstract, there was as much a floor beneath her as there was nothing. Either way, it didn’t matter. More of them, things that left gentle noises as they slowly dripped beneath her.

Tears, Luna realized. These are my tears.

The epiphany was like a set of floodgates being opened. More tears fell, the scars on her soul she’d thought healed opening anew. She tried to cry out, but the sound wouldn’t even leave her throat.

There was no use. She was alone, just like she had been for centuries.

Pri... ...una..

Luna’s ears swiveled atop her head. She thought she’d heard something, but she couldn’t place the source. It had seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere, only to disappear as soon as it had sounded.

...L...na...

There it was again. That voice. She was sure she’d heard it now. There was a gentleness to it, one that she could vaguely recognize, yet right then it felt like everything she could have ever needed.

“Yes?” said Luna. “Who is it?”

Luna...

The voice came again, clearer than the clearest crystal. On the edge of her field of vision, a light began to form, brighter than the endless landscape white around her. The light expanded, taking up more and more of the horizon, and as it grew closer, Luna could feel herself rushing towards it. Her vision tunneled, centering itself on the light, until it grew so immense as to engulf her world entirely...

...then, just like that, it was over. Her eyes jolted open, and her head lunged upright, having apparently been lying prone before. Several moments passed before she could fully process what she now saw.

She was sitting in the midst of a cobblestone city street, the same city that she had been in just before falling into the limbo of her own subconscious mind. Above, the alien moon loomed large, still engraved with the geometric glyphs that had sealed that thing away.

“You’re back,” a voice spoke. She’d heard it before, yet what she saw when she turned to meet it was not a face she knew. At least, not entirely. It was no longer the face of a rabbitfolk, but that of a different creature. A human, Luna would have called it, but humans did not have such elongated, ribbonlike ears, nor did they float with their feet inches above the ground.

“Tamiyo?” said Luna. “What... what happened? What has become of you? And where am I?”

Tamiyo frowned. “I am sorry. I was afraid this would happen.”

Luna paused, ruminating on the thought. “You mean the monster. The one currently sealed within that moon.”

Tamiyo shook her head. “No, Your Highness. I was afraid you would see me as I truly am. That is why I sealed my dream off from you.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “You sealed your dream from me?”

“Please don’t be alarmed, Your Highness. You must understand, my task is to observe, never to interfere.” As she spoke, a subtle quavering ran beneath Tamiyo’s voice. The stoicism she wore had already begun to crack. “I can see now that I have failed once more.”

Luna paused again, this time allowing the truth to dawn on her. “You’re a planeswalker.”

Tamiyo gave a single nod. “Yes. I had learned of your world from an acquaintance of mine some time ago. The world you see here is a distant plane that I had hoped never to revisit, even in dreams.”

“But why?” said Luna. “Why would you feel the need to hide your true identity? Princess Twilight had made planeswalkers public knowledge months ago.”

“I am aware of that, yes. But even still, I... I made a promise to myself. It is not my place to meddle in the affairs of other worlds. I...” Tamiyo’s body tensed, and a single tear ran down the edge of her cheeks. “...I have lived my entire life by the promises I make. And yet again, I couldn’t do anything to keep them. I failed to keep you out. I failed to uphold the promises I am sworn to. I... I don’t know what to do. What am I, if I cannot even live up to my duties as a scholar?”

“You are a friend,” said Luna. “You were there to keep me company when nopony else was. You are more valuable than you know.”

“If I am a friend to you, then why, might I ask, did you intrude upon my mind?” There was a flash of anger beneath Tamiyo’s question, a level of emotional intensity that Luna had never heard from her before. “I had told you not to pursue the matter further! I had warned you that it would only bring you suffering! And yet you stubbornly pursued after me, only to expose yourself to the very darkness I had tried to spare you from!”

Luna flinched away, the sudden outburst feeling to her like a slap against the face. “Tamiyo, please. I was only trying to hel—”

“To help me, yes,” Tamiyo interrupted. “Because you were trying to be a hero. And do you know how many supposed ‘heroes’ I have met within my lifetime? How many more I have researched the stories of, and recorded within the pages of my work? Everywhere that heroes walk, calamity follows in their wake, yet always they have the sheer egotism to believe they can avert it. To be a hero is to wallow in unwarranted self-importance. That trait is a luxury that I cannot afford.”

“Enough,” Luna shot back. Tamiyo froze, the force and power behind Luna’s voice commanding her attention. “Are you suggesting to me that it would be better if I did nothing?” Luna continued. “I have seen the darkness lurking within your mind. I know how much it pains you to endure it. I do not believe that you would have suffered less if I did not come to your aid.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Tamiyo answered. “...No, Your Highness. My life is unimportant to the affairs of this world. But you are the guardian of dreams for this entire plane, and your mere presence shields the dreams of this realm from intrusion. It was foolish of me to allow you to put yourself at risk. I should never have come to this plane to begin with.”

“Risk...” Luna’s eyes briefly drifted upwards, toward the silvery moon, and the glyphs inscribed on its surface. Even now, merely glancing at it sent a shudder down her spine. “...That monster I saw. The one imprisoned in that moon. That is what you mean?”

“It is no mere monster,” said Tamiyo. “It is a force of the multiverse, one that surpasses even gods. And what you saw of it, I fear, is no mere product of my subconscious mind. I fear what you saw is the thing in itself, trying to extend its will into the plane.” A slight shudder ran through Tamiyo’s body, another tear running down her cheek. “I... I thought I was rid of it forever, when it was sealed within the moon of another world. I had hoped my mind would not be intruded upon again... but I fear I underestimated its power. Even now it still lurks within my nightmares, hoping to escape into your world.”

Luna’s stomach turned itself inward. The stoic scholar’s face she had known, rabbitfolk or not, was almost completely gone.

“There is someone in this plane it wants,” Tamiyo continued. By then, any trace of composure had disappeared from her voice, and she was barely holding herself back from a sob. “Someone here, that it can reach only through dreams. But it cannot enter that dream while you exist. Only mine, the dream of one from outside. I... I smuggled it into your world, without even knowing. And if I hadn’t saved you at the last moment, it would have eliminated the only thing holding it back from the minds of your subjects. I... I broke my promise the moment I set foot on your plane. I have betrayed everything I’ve ever stood for, and all I could think to do was isolate myself, hoping it would make a difference.”

Luna stepped forward, her hooves falling softly against the cobblestone street. “Tamiyo...”

Tamiyo complied, turning her head to face Luna. As Luna approached, their gazes met, and just then Luna could see the radiance behind Tamiyo’s eyes.

“I understand how you feel,” said Luna. “I have witnessed horrors like perhaps no other pony living today. I have seen darkness, and been enveloped by it in totality. And I know it feels to blame yourself for an evil you brought with you. But you are worth so much more than any mistake you have made. And whatever it is that intrudes upon your mind, it cannot hurt you now.”

“But how can you be certain of that?” Tamiyo replied. “You were nearly consumed by it.”

“Were you the one that sealed it within the moon?” said Luna.

“I... no,” said Tamiyo. “No, I was not. It... it sealed itself away. There was a scroll, and I... I...”

Luna’s curiosity suddenly piqued. “Scroll?”

“Yes! A scroll!” Tamiyo blurted. “When that monster confronted us on Innistrad, I held a scroll, one that could bring devastation to the entire plane, and yet... somehow, when it reached into my mind, the scroll changed! That monster it... it sealed itself away! And I don’t know why, or how! I don’t know what happened! I... I’ve never felt more powerless in my life! How can you say that what’s in that moon it holds no power over me now?”

Luna blinked. From her perspective, sealing oneself in the moon seemed unthinkable. And yet... something about Tamiyo’s statement didn’t seem right.

“Innistrad... that is the name of the plane where the monster is sealed within the moon. Am I correct?”

“Y-yes,” said Tamiyo. “But it cannot stay there forever. Even now, its influence extends far beyond the plane. You’ve seen it yourself.”

“But that is not what I’m trying to say, Tamiyo,” Luna replied. “Because we are not on Innistrad right now. We are within your own dream.”

Tamiyo paused. The subtle twitches face displayed a range of emotions, as though she had not yet decided how to feel. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this is not the same place you have told me of, nor is this moon the same moon as Innistrad’s. Now let me ask you this: within this dream, did you have this scroll when that monster was sealed in the moon?”

“I...” Tamiyo paused again. Something from behind her eyes gleamed, as if it were a manifestation of an epiphany. “...No, I did not. But I don’t understand. What does it mean? And how?”

“It means the monster’s reach beyond its prison is not as strong as you think,” Luna replied. “And it means you were the one to seal it away, within this dream. You have more power over the monster than it has over you.”

At first, Tamiyo didn’t respond. Her face had gone blank, though not out of the usual forced aloofness. Seconds passed, a gentle wind blowing across the dreamscape. Luna could already feel it sifting through her mane, which had already begun to regain its ethereal quality.

“Tamiyo,” Luna spoke again. “Let me ask you this. Do you wish for this monster to remain within your mind?”

“I... no,” said Tamiyo. “But...” She did not bother to continue her sentence beyond the first word. Or, more likely, she couldn’t.

“But?” said Luna.

“I... I don’t know,” said Tamiyo. “When I read the scroll that sealed Emrakul — sealed the monster that had warped so much of that world — I didn’t want to believe I had done it. I was never to open it, not under any circumstances. That was my promise. But my mind was hijacked, moved to an action I would not even fathom otherwise. If the monster is gone, who is left to be held responsible?”

“So you are keeping it within your mind,” Luna stated plainly. “Because you are more afraid of blaming yourself.”

“I...” Tamiyo tensed for a bit. “...I don’t know what to say. If that is true, then... I have only further put this world in danger. All because of my own selfish cowardice.”

“Tamiyo. Look at me,” said Luna. She stepped forward further, closing what remained of the distance between them. “I know how easy it is to blame yourself in these circumstances. I know what it feels like to have guilt and sorrow weigh down on your heart. But I want you to know, whatever wrongs you may have done do not define you. You are a friend, and a deeply compassionate soul, promises or not. I believe that is what matters most.”

Tamiyo looked down into Luna’s eyes once more. “I... perhaps you’re right,” she said. “I have a home to return to, and a family. Even if this darkness never leaves me, I must be strong for them.” With a sigh, her body relaxed, and her feet touched to the ground. Crouching down further, she placed a hand lightly against Luna’s withers, meeting her at eye level. “And... thank you, Your Highness.”

Luna reciprocated the gesture, leaning forward and wrapping her foreleg around tightly around Tamiyo’s body. Though she gave a slight, startled jump, Tamiyo quickly leaned into the embrace, and the night passed by them as they held each other.

When she finally pulled away, Tamiyo’s mouth curved upwards, into a smile. “Before you leave, I believe there is one more thing I must do.” She turned her eyes upward, toward the silvery moon, and reached towards it with an open palm. Tamiyo’s hand glowed with a color that resonated with the moonlight, and the glyphs on the moon pulsed and radiated with the powers. In the back of her mind, Luna could hear a voice from within the moon give a sigh of resignation — disappointed, yet far from surprised.

The glyphs on the lunar surface flared with argent light. In an instant they were gone, and the thing in the moon had disappeared.

Luna tried to speak, but the words were muddled and unintelligible. Everything became blurry, and the world of the dream began to fade away, a symptom of a wakening mind. As she was forcibly ejected from the collapsing dream, she could see Tamiyo smile with a bright sincerity that she had never seen from her before.

————————

Luna had spent the rest of her routine that day only half-attentive, distracted by the thoughts of the dream she had visited earlier that morning. Celestia had been very vocally worried ever since her absence from breakfast, but she had quickly reassured her elder sister that she had been fine. Even in the recent past, she would have found Celestia’s overbearing attitude annoying, but she had quickly grown to treasure it.

None of that mattered, of course, when the night rolled around, and she awoke from one of her frequent short naps to attend to her Night Court. She raised the moon as usual, but this time there was something else to its presence, something that warmed her from within. A memory of a friend, perhaps. She had not heard from Tamiyo since that morning, and many lonely bureaucratic tasks paired with her irregular sleep patterns had given her little opportunity to check on her guest.

But as she took seat on her throne for that night, she was approached by Echo, her faithful lieutenant. The spring in the bat pony’s step was all but gone, her bright eyes dulled by solemnity. “Um, Princess?”

“Yes?” said Luna. “What is it? Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all... well, yes. Kinda,” said Echo. “It’s Tamiyo. She’s, um... well, I think she’s gone.”

“What?” said Luna. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“I mean exactly that,” Echo replied. “She’s not in her room or the library, and we can’t find her anywhere. We did find this, though... it looks like it’s meant for you.”

Echo reached into her armor, and pulled out a silver relic shaped vaguely like a horseshoe — a semicircular loop, the ends adorned by right-angles with the flat sides facing one another. It glinted beneath the pale light of the Night Court, the same gentle glow of the moon itself. Attached by a string tied around it was a tiny scroll. Luna took the item from Echo’s grasp, levitating it before her, and carefully unfastened and unrolled the scroll, reading the message it contained.

Dear Princess Luna,

I apologize for leaving you behind without saying goodbye. I had hoped to speak to you once more in person, but upon waking I found my mind clouded by emotions that I was not prepared for. I decided then to return home, for the sake of regaining my composure.

I have given much thought to what you had said to me in my dream last night. As a mother and a friend, I am meant to love those close to me. Yet as a scholar, I am meant to remain impartial to that which I observe. I have promised not to interfere in the affairs of other worlds, for attachment invites a bias that undermines everything my work stands for.

It should have been obvious from the beginning that this was not a promise I could keep. To spend time in other worlds is to invite familiarity, and to become familiar is to develop the same attachments I forswore. Though I have embraced such feelings on my own plane, on others I had forced myself to bury them. Only now do I realize what a dire mistake I have made.

I cannot continue to hide from my own attachments to other worlds. Yet all the same, I cannot continue breaking the promises I have made to myself. I am then left with no other choice to return to my home plane, and re-examine my priorities. What do I desire? What is my place in the multiverse? What am I to do when I find it? I have begun to question what I once valued, but I cannot help but feel that I am better off for it.

I will never forget what you had given me when we met in my dream. Attached to this letter is an item from the plane of Innistrad, a relic I held to remind me of what was lost. But you have shown me what it means to move beyond my mistakes, and I understand that dwelling on the past will only hurt me more. Consider it now to be a symbol of my gratitude, something that you may remember me by. I do not know how long I will be gone, but it is my hope that I will one day return to your plane.

Until we meet again,

Tamiyo

A soft droplet hit the surface of the letter. Echo looked up to Luna, concern written plainly on her muzzle. “Luna, why are you crying? Is everything okay?”

Luna sniffed, wiping her eye with a foreleg. “Yes, everything’s alright,” she said with a smile. “I was just thinking about a friend.”

————————

Tamiyo’s Memento 3

Artifact

Whenever a card is put into your graveyard from anywhere other than the battlefield, you gain 1 life.

2, T: Draw a card, then discard a card.

A relic of a world lost to darkness, and a memory of a cherished friend.

Breaking the Storm Scale

Rainbow Dash flew east.

It was a simple journey, one that had become so routine that it was practically reflex. The sights and sounds of the landscape below flew by in a blur. It was all part of the challenge, the drive to push herself further, and to be the best flyer she could be.

Never in her wildest dreams, of course, did she imagine she would make it this far. Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty. Rainbow Dash, the Wonderbolt. Rainbow Dash, the Fastest Mare Alive. She was practically a household name, yet fame had done surprisingly little to change her. Perhaps she simply hadn’t been interested in letting it change her. Perhaps she had, and learned the hard way not to let it go to her head. Either way, being a hero and an inspiration to so many wasn’t what drove her. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t relish in the attention, but there was so much more to what she wanted out of her own life.

Being a Wonderbolt was a group effort, and she couldn’t have been more honored to be a part of something greater than herself. But as she’d spent more time with her teammates, it had only become apparent that there was still more for her to learn. And here it was, far past the reaches of the land, that she would find her calling. Breaking her limits, piercing the heavens, going further beyond.

The cloud cover passed beneath her like an endless blanket of cotton, the cool wind whipping through her mane and bodysuit as she spiraled and dove through the air, painting the early morning sky with her trail like a brushtroke of rainbow ink. A part of her was disappointed that no one on the ground would see her artful maneuvers through the clouds, but she could hardly blame the local weather teams for following their own forecasts.

None of that mattered, however, when the sun crested above the eastern horizon. The sensation would have been blinding, yet with her enchanted flight goggles firmly strapped over her eyes, the sunrise left only the sight of a breathtaking gold and yellow coloring the sky.

A smile crept its way across Rainbow’s face. At the speed she had left Ponyville, sunrise would have come at just about the time she would arrive at her destination. And sure enough, as she pushed forward, the clouds parted to reveal the vast blue ripples of the Celestial Sea. For as long as anyone could remember, the seas and oceans had served as a drainage basin for all of the weather produced by Ungula’s creatures. Whether it was crafted by the pegasi of Equestria, the griffins of the Eastern Continent, or other such creatures of the skies, all of the clouds drained into briny air between continents. It was here, over the waters, that they gave their last dying gasps of rain and thunder.

And as Rainbow continued to pass over the waters, the surface of the sea grew steadily more tumultuous. Little ripples became great crests, and great crests became crashing waves. Deep in the hollow cavities of her bones, she could feel the air pressure dropping. A new mass of clouds began to appear on the edge of the horizon, dark and gray and spiraling. A storm was approaching, and it was approaching fast.

Awesome, she thought to herself. Hurricanes over the Celestial Sea very rarely hit land, and so most pegasi had no experience flying in such conditions. But Rainbow Dash was far from most pegasi. She was Rainbow Dash, after all.

With a massive push forward, Rainbow accelerated, shooting forth like a rocket. The wind, rain, and clouds greeted her with a roar of thunder, and before long the stormy grey mass engulfed her completely. Hurricane-force winds howled as they pushed against her body, pouring rain battered against her goggles, and electric charge crackled in the gaps between the cumulonimbus. As the thunder rumbled, her insulated suit itched against her skin, a reminder that less than an inch of rubber was all that lay between her and a nearly a billion volts of electricity. What few cadets had tried to brave such storms without their suits were never seen at Wonderbolts Academy again — if they survived at all.

Tension built up within Rainbow’s chest, followed by an unshakable determination. She was at the very heart of the storm now, and mistakes were no longer an option. Every maneuver had to be made with as much precision as she could muster. Most ponies would find such a feat impossible, but Rainbow Dash was not most ponies.

A quick flash of sparks appeared in the clouds to her right. Feeling the sudden tingle in the air, she dipped to the side just in time to avoid a bolt of lightning that streaked through the stormy clouds. With each passing second, her movements became more in tune with the storm. Dipping, twirling, and rolling through the tumultuous winds and lightning strikes was practically reflex now, as though she had become one with hurricane itself.

It was here, beyond the most intense rushes of adrenaline, that she found herself overcome by a sudden tranquility. The danger of the storm was no longer of any concern to her. She moved with such fluidity and easy that she barely had to make any conscious effort, and her thoughts dulled to a state of perfect calm. The storm raged on, her body pushed itself past its upper limits, and yet she could not feel more at peace.

“Caw!”

And just like that, the tranquility was ripped away by a piercing squawk. Brought out of her trance-like state of mind, Rainbow turned her head to the side, toward the sound of the disturbance. Flying next her, with feathers as black as midnight, was a seemingly ordinary crow. It followed her movements closely, repeating a call so ear-grating that it nearly drowned out the constant low rumbles of thunder.

“Caw! Caw!”

Rainbow winced as the crow’s rough squawking scraped against her eardrums. “Hey, cut it out! That’s really distracting!”

“Caw!” The crow repeated. Clearly, it had either not understood, or was uninterested in listening.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” With another push of her wings, she accelerated forward, leaving her follower in the metaphorical dust.

Or so she had thought. Less than a minute later, as she moved closer to the eye of the storm, she was once again assaulted by an all-too-familiar cry.

“Caw!”

Sure enough, Rainbow turned in the direction of the bird call, and once again saw the very same crow keeping pace with her. “What? You again?”

“Caw!”

“I said knock it off! I need to focus!” As if to prove her point, another bolt of lightning streaked by with a cacophonous thunderclap, just barely missing both of the two flyers.

“Caw!”

Rainbow groaned. “Not gonna take a hint, huh? Alright then, let’s see you keep up with this!”

Another push forward, and another burst of acceleration. By now, Rainbow would have to be traveling at more than half the speed of sound. The rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning were so quick to pass by her that they were almost nothing more than a blur of sights and sounds, and yet still she kept going forward. That was what she was there to do, after all. But the lingering doubt in the back of her mind wondered if it was enough. And so, she pushed herself even further, performing all the tricks and aerial maneuvers she could manage at such speeds. The Buccaneer Blaze, the Cosmic Hyperflip, the Celestia Air, the Mistborn Cobra, and many more such flips, rolls, and dives that she hadn’t bothered to name yet. By the end of it, she could only glide atop the hurricane winds, still giddy with exhilaration despite the creeping fatigue in her joints.

“Caw!”

And just like that, Rainbow’s heart sank. She almost didn’t want to look. Yet look she did, and right there, just to her left, was the very same crow that had been pursuing her the whole time.

“What!? How!?”

“Caw!”

Were it not for the constant rumble of the storm, Rainbow would have heard the grinding of her own teeth. She had come here to prove herself, to show the world she was truly exceptional. And yet this crow, this completely ordinary bird, had managed to match her every move.

“Okay, that is it!” Rainbow shouted. Any restraint that she held before was instantly scrubbed away, and before she knew it, she was going through the familiar motions of her single greatest feat. The air pushed sharply against her as she accelerated further, a cone of sharp pressure rapidly forming around her body. It had become almost routine at this point, but it had somehow never gotten less exhilarating.

Then, in a burst of blinding light and deafening sound, Rainbow Dash crossed a threshold. From the world that other ponies knew, into the world of pure speed. On the edge of her peripheral vision she could see the prismatic ring exploding outward from the point where the sound barrier shattered, cutting through the clouds and illuminating the darkened skies. A grin made its was across her face. She’d won, just as she knew she would. That dumb bird had—

A tingle of dread ran down Rainbow’s spine. In the world of speed she did not hear anything, for even sound itself could not reach her. Yet she was certain, in that moment, that a bird’s call had crossed her eardrums. Slowly, as her heart sank into her stomach, she turned her head to see the very same crow that had been following her.

Rainbow could only stare in horror. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. None before had ever matched her speed, yet the crow had done so with the utmost ease. And as her mind went blank, Rainbow Dash could feel the hurricane winds pushing against her, disrupting the lift that carried her. And as her altitude began to drop, the crow cried out to her once more.

The last thing Rainbow felt was an explosion of pain, and a torrent of salty water flooding into her lungs.

————————

Darkness. All was darkness. With no sensations of touch, sight, or sound to guide her, Rainbow Dash had at first not even realized she was anywhere at all. Was she dead, she wondered?

Her questions were put out of her mind when a light crept onto the edge of her vision. It grew in size and intensity, until it reached a point where it was nearly blinding. Her other senses came into focus soon after, the burning in her lungs, the course sand embedded in her sopping wet hair, the unbearable taste of salt, and the sound...

“Caw.”

I’m in Hell. I’m dead, and this is Hell.

As her eyes steadily drifted open, adjusting themselves to the light, Rainbow was met with the image of a serene beach, untouched by the ocean hurricane. Her joints ached and her skin chafed as she slowly stood to her hooves, observing her new surroundings. Her eyes then drifted downward, toward the crow that was now standing just in front of her. It looked back up at her, a curious gleam in its pupils.

“Caw?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rainbow replied. “Were you the one that dragged me out of the ocean?”

The crow nodded. “Caw!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Rainbow admitted. A brief pang of guilt ran through her. Had she risked getting hurt over a pointless stunt, just to soothe her own wounded ego? What would her friends think? “I, uh... may have gotten carried away just a bit there.”

“Caw!”

A short but heavy breath pushed its way past her nostrils. “Look, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” She paused briefly, regarding the crow curiously. She could tell from its rain-slicked body and rustled feathers that it had flown for quite some distance. “You know,” she said, “that was some pretty impressive flying back there.”

“Caw?”

“Yeah, totally! It was actually pretty awesome. I don’t know of any pony that’s been able to keep up with me like that. We should fly with each other again some time!”

“Caw!”

“Sounds good to me!” said Rainbow. With a beat of her wings, she took to the air, giving the crow a wave as she leisurely began her flight back home. “I’ll catch you around. And be sure to check out Wonderbolts show next time you’re in Ponyville!”

As the lands passed below her, Rainbow could hear one last bird cry cross her ears. She chuckled gently to herself as she headed inland, thinking of the absurdity of it all. Yet already, she could feel a sense of kinship with the crow that had so easily matched her, and challenged her to her limits.

Then again, perhaps it wasn’t too absurd. Friendships, after all, could come from the strangest of places.

————————

Rainbow Dash, Wonderbolt 2RWB

Legendary Creature — Pegasus Soldier

Flying, haste

RW: All damage that would be dealt to other creatures you control this turn is dealt to Rainbow Dash, Wonderbolt instead.

2WB: Choose target creature attacking you. Return Rainbow from your graveyard to the battlefield blocking that creature. Exile Rainbow at end of combat. If Rainbow would die this turn, exile it instead.

5/3

Author's Note

Alternate Chapter Title: Rainbow Dash vs. The Best Card in Magic

Revels Unbound

“Water, thirty-five liters. Carbon, twenty kilograms. Ammonia, four liters. Lime, one-point-five kilograms. Phosphorus, eight hundred grams.”

Late one afternoon, far away from the watchful eyes of pony society, a lone mare was hard at work. The darkened room was cluttered with utensils, beakers, and measuring tools of a trade few had ever mastered. Some would have even argued that it was better for such secrets to remain hidden. Regardless, the mare continued her task, muttering to herself as she labored.

“Salt, two hundred fifty grams. Saltpeter, one hundred grams. Sulfur, eighty grams. Fluorine, seven-point-five grams. Iron, five grams. Silicon, three grams, and a small amount of fifteen other elements.”

Finally, after much preparation, all the pieces were in place. The transmutation circle began to glow with a dim light, sending a chill down the mare’s spine. A bubbling hiss sounded out, sending a overpowering, sickly-sweet smell across her nostrils. The moment she had been awaiting had finally arrived.

Pinkie Pie pulled back the window blinds, illuminating the kitchen’s interior. “Cake batter’s done!”

In a single, smooth motion, so quickly that many would have missed it, she picked up massive, pony-sized bowl of cake batter from the center of circle, and hoisted it onto her back. Gliding smoothly over to the kitchen counter, she methodically carried the bowl over to a series of cake pans, carefully pouring the pinkish, sugary-sweet batter into each one. Within moments, she was literally juggling the cake pans, miraculously spilling none of their contents as she tossed them into her custom-built, patented Pink-O-Matic™ Baking Oven.

A subtle tingle tugged at the frog of her right rear hoof, alerting Pinkie to the arrival of new customers. Leaving the cakes to bake in the oven, she trotted out to the shop’s front counter to greet the new arrivals.

“Hi! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! What can I get— whoa.”

Throughout her life, Pinkie had always embraced the element of surprise. Few ponies ever had ever known what exactly to expect from her next. It was rare, then, that the surprise didn’t come from herself.

“Heh... wow! I didn’t know Nightmare Night was early this year!” Pinkie remarked. “I mean, you’ve got it all! The grey robes, the glowing red eyes, the way the room suddenly got colder when you walked in, how everything beneath your hoods looks totally pitch-black, as though it were swallowing and consuming the very light itself... You guys have some real dedication to your costumes, I can tell!”

The hooded pony’s eyes narrowed. Briefly, it glanced back at the two hooded following it, then turned back to face Pinkie. “We require... a cake.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” said Pinkie. “What kind of cake do you need? We’ve got chocolate cake, spice cake, carrot cake, pumpkin cake, pound cake... not to be confused with the foals named Pumpkin and Pound Cake, can you imagine how mad Mrs. Cake would be if I sold them? We’ve got butter cake, vanilla cake, cheesecake, gingerbread cake, and and at least a dozen other types that I probably can’t name here without having to pause for breath...” Pinkie paused momentarily, inhaling loudly. “...Oops, too late! So, what kind of cake do you need?”

The three hooded ponies huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. A chill wind blew through the room. Slowly, they turned back, and the first of them spoke in a grim, hushed voice. “Chocolate... shall suffice.”

“Great!” said Pinkie. She pulled out a notepad and pencil from somewhere, and jotted down the order as quickly as she could. “I’ll put you in for one chocolate cake, then!”

“Excellent,” said the hooded pony. “The contract is sealed. Do not disappoint us.”

The wind howled, and the three ponies swiftly turned and trotted out the door.

“Hey, wait!” Pinkie called out. “You forgot to tell me where to drop the cake off! And you still gotta pay for it!” By then, however, the three had already left.

Pinkie shrugged. “Oh, well. I’ll find them later.”

————————

The next several hours were... not uneventful, per se. "Uneventful" was the last word that could possibly describe any day in Pinkie's life. But it was routine, in the sense that she spent every day trying to find new ways to surprise ponies and make them smile. It was a spontaneous routine, or perhaps a routine spontaneity.

After popping out of the mailbox to say "hello" to the local mailmare (which she could tell was appreciated, judging by how fast she flew away), Pinkie followed her secret passage through space, popping from a bush just in front of Cheerilee's schoolhouse. Reaching into the vast sea of cotton candy fluff some would call her mane, she pulled out a large pan of freshly-baked cupcakes. With a series of distinct sproings she hopped her way through the door, and into the classroom.

Her presence was immediately greeted with a chorus of gasps from the fillies and colts, followed by excited whispers. Cheerilee turned her attention away from the chalkboard, smiling warmly.

“Hello, Miss Cheerilee!” said Pinkie. “I heard it’s somepony’s birthday today, so I brought cupcakes!”

“Yeah, cupcakes!”

“I want one!”

“Me first, me first!”

“Alright class, settle down!” Cheerilee called back. “I’m sure Miss Pinkie Pie will be happy to pass them out. May I ask who this is for, Pinkie? I hadn’t heard from any of my students about a birthday today.”

“Hmm, let’s see here.” With the deftness of a cheetah, Pinkie tossed the plate of cupcakes and balanced it on her head, while she reached into the curls of her tail hair and pulled out a notepad calendar. Listed within it were all of the birthdays in Ponyville, and on today’s date she could see the name of one pony in particular circled. “Ah, here it is. Lily Pad, turning twelve years old today? So where’s the special birthday filly?”

“She’s not here today, I’m afraid.” Cheerilee looked pensive for a moment. “Actually, now that you mention it, I’ve been wondering about her absence. I’ve tried to call her parents, but it looks like they don’t have a telephone line.” Pinkie nodded along at the explanation — telephones were on the cutting edge of technology, and many hadn’t adopted them yet. “Could you just check on her and make sure she’s not skipping school?” Cheerilee continued. “I wouldn’t take her for the sort of pony to be truant, but you never know.”

“Okie dokie, Loki!” said Pinkie. “Sorry kiddos, but it looks like I’ll have to save these cupcakes for later. Can’t have the birthday treats without the birthday pony, after all!”

Stuffing the tray of cupcakes back into her manespace, Pinkie bounced away, already intent on fulfilling Cheerilee’s request. Though it pained her to hear to the chorus of disappointed ‘awwws’ from the classroom, she couldn’t even bear to think about the look on Lily Pad’s face if she knew that she missed her own classroom celebration. When it came to parties, sometimes a sacrifice had to be made.

————————

Knock knock knock.

...

Knock knock knock.

...

....

.....

Knock knock knock.

A deep frown crossed Pinkie Pie’s face, an activity that was no less than strenuous given how little she exercised her frown muscles. “Still no answer? I don’t understand. I’ve been knocking for ten minutes straight!”

Of course, there was always the possibility that nopony was home. Even though it was a fairly nice house, Pinkie couldn’t imagine any young filly wanting to stay inside on a nice Spring day. Unless she was a bookworm. Or she was sick. Or she couldn’t figure out how to open the door, and was trapped inside.

...Maybe I should take a look. Just in case.

Following a path that couldn’t be explained, Pinkie effortlessly slipped through space and past the door. She arrived at a moderately-sized foyer, with a single glass chandelier and a white wooden staircase, sparsely decorated otherwise. While not a particularly fancy room, it showed that Lily’s parents had considerable income.

...of course, that raised the important question of where her parents were. Probably at work, or on a shopping trip, but then where was Lily?

A twisty, wrinkly sensation nipped at Pinkie’s rear-left inner kneecap. She wasn’t sure what that one meant, but the feeling in her gut told her it was nothing good. Trepidation gnawed at her from within as she cantered into the living room.

The first thing she’d noticed was that the room was unusually drafty. Even though it was in the middle of springtime, the breeze that blew in was downright chilling. And it was easy to see where the draft had come from, given the large open window behind the couch.

Pinkie’s stomach began to twist itself into a knot. Wasting no time, she made her way over to the window, closely examining the surrounding area. The couch in front of it was damp, as were the windowsill and curtains.

It rained last night. That must mean the window’s been open since before this morning.

Pinkie didn’t want to assume the worst, but the worst assumptions couldn’t help but burst into her mind uninvited. More clues. She needed more clues. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room, and she found it right beneath her nose.

There, wedged between two of the couch cushions, was a single black cloth, ripped at the edges. Carefully reaching into the couch cushions and pulling it loose, she peered closer to examine it further, and what she saw nearly turned her blood to ice. There were subtle yet distinct bite marks on the cloth, from a bit far too small to have been an adult pony.

There was only one conclusion she could reach. The cloth had been torn loose during a struggle.

Pinkie wasted no time making her exit. One thing had become clear; a little filly was now in danger, and next to that everything else was unimportant. Quickly tracing the path of the presumed foalnappers, she dove out the still open window, intent on following their trail.

Thankfully, the rain from last night had made the soil just soft enough for hoofprints to be left in the dirt, which the offending ponies hadn’t bothered trying to cover. Either they were sloppy, or they simply didn’t expect anyone to pursue them. Given Lily’s parents seemed to be out of town, either option was a possibility.

But soon that didn’t matter, as the trail quickly led Pinkie past the back yard, across the fields of grass on the outskirts of Ponyville, and beyond. The trail grew colder, and the hoofprints grew harder and harder to follow, and yet still she persisted. She couldn’t give up now, wouldn’t give up now. And with the helpful itches and twitches of her Pinkie sense, she was able to keep herself on the right path, even as the hoofprints faded into nothingness.

After almost thirty minutes of following the trail, Pinkie came to a stop. She hadn’t paid attention to where she was going, and that lack of attention immediately came back to bite her when she slammed face-first into a tree. As she stopped to shake the wooziness and splinters out of her head, her attention was pulled for the first time to her surroundings.

The Everfree Forest. She was right in the middle of the Everfree, so deep that she could no longer see the sky through the thick canopy overhead. How she had failed to notice that was... actually sort of obvious, now that she thought about it. Her mind was so much more interesting than the world was sometimes, she couldn’t help but be pulled into it.

Focus, Pinkie. You came here for a reason.

Pinkie took in a deep breath, clearing her mind of distractions. From the area just beyond the tree, she could hear something — a rhythmic, circular chant steadily growing in volume and intensity. The words were in a language that she couldn’t quite make out, though the shivers running down her spine told her that it was something ominous.

Then, her heart skipped a beat as a new voice called out, in perfectly clear Equestrian.

“Help me!”

Lily Pad. That had to be her voice. It was desperate, strained, and cracking, as though worn down by hours upon hours of screaming. Swallowing a thick lump in her throat, she slowly crept past the line of trees before her. Beyond it was a small clearing, where a thick, grey storm cloud choked the sky above. Even though it was in the middle of the day, everything below the sky seemed to be cloaked in a state of perpetual nightfall.

But what Pinkie saw next was far, far worse. She stifled a gasp, and swiftly dove behind a tree for cover, peering around it at the horrible procession happening just before her eyes.

In the center of the clearing was a circle of hooded ponies, much like the ones that had approached Pinkie earlier that day. They chanted among themselves in a deep, guttural language as they huddled around a strange object — a flat, table-like structure carved from gnarled, wrinkled wood. The truth didn’t take long to puzzle out: it was an altar.

Pinkie couldn’t remain focused on the altar, however, as there were four more hooded ponies approaching the circle from the other direction. They carried on their backs a large wooden plank, where a cream-colored pegasus filly with a lavender mane lay, all four of her legs tied down with crude ropes. Her eyes were red, dry and drooping with bags — no doubt she had been crying out all day.

“Help! Somepony, please!”

The apparent cultists paid her continued wailing no mind, as they hastily dropped the plank onto the altar, then joined the rest in the circle. From there, another hooded pony stepped forward, one with a far more ornate robe, decorated with golden embroidery. The outside of the hood was adorned with a golden diadem, woven directly into the shadowy fabric, which curled and jutted outwards from the front in four points. They looked like vaguely a goat’s horns, but Pinkie had never known of any goat with four of them. It was apparent at once that this hooded pony was the cult’s leader, and as they approached the altar, the terrified filly before them trembled in silence.

“Brothers, sisters, and kindred of all kinds,” the leader spoke, “we are gathered here on this fine day for a truly momentous occasion. For thirty long years we have endured, without the boundless freedom that filled our hearts. As the fires of the Great Revel perished, we were left only with the tyranny of awareness, the burden of knowledge and thought. Even as I speak, our instincts remain shackled, our impulses held in bondage. Free no more to laugh, to love, to know the true meaning of revelry.”

The circled cultists gave a series of disapproving murmurs, which quickly became a chorus of jeers and boos.

The leader held up their hoof, silencing the crowd instantly. “However! Today... today, that shall change. For when the sun reaches its zenith, its light shall pierce the clouds, and the stars will at last be in alignment! No more shall we remain imprisoned by our inhibitions! No longer will we be slaves to our own reason! When our King at last returns to us, we shall forever be wrapped in the fires of passion!”

A series of excited whispers broke out among the cultists, growing ever louder and louder, until the circled ponies stomped their hooves in excitement, pounding the ground with the force of their applause. It was then, that an all-too-familiar sound struck Pinkie’s eardrums.

Was that... a noisemaker? And a party horn?

Before Pinkie could see where the sounds had come from, the clouds covering the sky split open, and she was nearly blinded by the sudden influx of light. A single beam of sun poured through the opening, framing the altar within its spotlight. The terrified filly still bound to it winced as the light poured into her eyes unprepared.

The cheering crowd faded away, their shouts and whistles replaced by awestruck murmurs. The cult leader stepped forward once more, until they were directly over the altar. As the blackness of their cloak hungrily swallowed the sunlight it touched, the leader reached into their pocked and pulled out...

...Had Lily Pad’s scream not eclipsed her own, Pinkie would have given herself away. The cult was curled their foreleg around a sharp obsidian knife, staining the sunlight as it reflecting the sunlight off the multifaceted edge.

“For your return, King Stranger, we make this sacrifice! Let the flames you ignite consume us, in this life and the next!”

“Wait! Stop!”

Before she had even thought of a plan, Pinkie was leaping out from her hiding space, in full view of the now-astonished crowd. Already she could feel the astonished glances turning into furious glares, even though the cultists’ eyes remained concealed. Uh-oh. Think fast.

“Did, uh... did somepony here order a cake?” Reaching out into... somewhere, Pinkie pulled out a very large chocolate cake, easily four times as tall as her own body. She didn’t even remember baking it before, but she wasn’t about to question her own bizarre workings.

The cult leader turned towards Pinkie, and at once she could feel their icy stare. The seconds ticked by as the chill lingered, the leader remaining as unreadable as ever.

“Yes... yes, I believe we did,” the leader finally spoke. “You may leave it here. We are busy, you see.”

“Whoa, hold on there, buddy!” Pinkie said. “I can’t leave yet! Are you nuts?” She cantered towards the altar, the gathered circle parting to let her pass. Judging by their continued whispering, they were nothing short of completely bewildered. Good, she thought.

“I... what do you mean?” said the leader.

Approaching the altar, she began to slowly untie the ropes keeping Lily Pad bound. The young filly looked up at her with tearful eyes, but kept silent as Pinkie gave her a wry wink. So far, the cultists were too dumbfounded to even process what was happening, exactly as Pinkie had wanted it.

“Easy! You haven’t paid for it yet! Gotta make a living somehow, you know?”

“I, er... ah. Well, then,” said the leader. A muted cough came from beneath their hood. “I’m, uh... I am afraid our way of life doesn’t allow for the stress of managing abstract currencies. The pleasures we embrace are far more... immediate in nature.”

“Ooooooh. Gotcha. Well, in that case, how about we make a trade? Sounds good, right?”

“Er... yes, of course,” said the leader. “What do you propose?”

“Simple!” said Pinkie. With the last of the restraints unbound, she swiftly scooped Lily up and hoisted the filly onto her back. “I leave you with the cake to distract you, and in return I rescue the foal you abducted! ’Kaythanksbye!”

“Wait, what!? No! After her!”

By the time the cult leader had called out, however, Pinkie had already left them in the distance, running as far as her legs could possibly carry her. It wouldn’t be long before she was out of the Everfree Forest entirely, returning the terrified Lily Pad to her home.

Or at least, that would be that case, were it not for a single problem. She didn’t remember the path she took into the Everfree to begin with.

The sound of hoofbeats behind her let Pinkie know that she was still being pursued. Worse yet, the hoofbeats were getting louder. They were gaining on her, and gaining quickly. These ponies no doubt knew the Everfree better than she did, and would catch up to her in short order.

“Um.... miss Pie?” said Lily Pad.

“Please, call me Pinkie.”

“O-okay. Um... Pinkie? Why are we running?”

Pinkie giggled. “Good one! It’s because they’ll catch us if we don’t run away, silly!”

“N-no,” said Lily, “I mean why are we running? Can’t you just use one of your, um... thingies? Where you disappear and the show up somewhere else?”

“Oooooooooh, you mean my shortcuts? Well, I can’t take those if somepony is with me,” Pinkie replied. As she continued running, she raised a hoof to her chin in contemplation. Either her fourth hoof or only-sometimes-present fifth hoof, she couldn’t always be sure. “Although I did once date this weird guy in a hoodie who could. It didn’t work out, obviously, but he had some great jokes!”

Lily cringed silently, still clinging to Pinkie’s barrel. “Is... is that really relevant right now?”

“Nope!” said Pinkie. “Now hold on tight, we’re almost... whoa!”

With a sound akin to rubber against pavement, Pinkie skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding a plummet into a large ravine that had opened up before them. Lily let out a yelp and clung to Pinkie tighter as she stumbled, teetering closer to the edge. As Pinkie regained her footing, she slowly backed away...

...only to stare directly into a dozen or more cultists. Even with their faces obscured, Pinkie could easily see the anger written in every subtle twitch, every sign of tension in their bodies.

“So, uh,” said Lily, “what now?”

“Wellllll,” said Pinkie, “based on past experience, as well as the stuffy sensation in my gallbladder, this seems like just about the time one of my friends would worry that something’s up, and then stage a dramatic rescue. I could be wrong, though.”

“...Huh?”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Though the noise of a shattering sound barrier came as a shock to everyone else, Pinkie simply looked upward and gave a knowing grin. Already, she could see the rainbow-colored ring of light illuminating the sky, so intense and powerful that it blew the leaves off the trees, letting everyone below gaze upward at its spectacle.

All at once, the cultists scattered, but their attempts to flee were immediately cut short when another blur of rainbow light zoomed downward. It was in turn joined by another series of multicolored trails. In a coordinated series of movements, they swiftly surrounded the cultists, circling them and dazzling them with their displays of aerial prowess.

Then, within moments, it was all over. The cultists, now soundly defeated, sat on the ground in groups of three, each group wrapped by a ring of cloud that restrained them like tightly-bound ropes. The blurs of color slowed, taking visible shape as they touched down to the ground. There, Rainbow Dash stood, in full Wonderbolt uniform, surrounded by each of her teammates.

“Called it!” Pinkie cheered.

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Called what?”

Another pegasus stepped forward. Spitfire, judging by the bright orange color of the mane poking through her uniform. “Better question. What exactly are you doing getting involved with these cultists? Nopony outside of us has intel on this group at all.”

“W-wait!” Lily called out. She hopped off Pinkie’s back, and stared up at Spitfire with wide, quivering eyes. “Please don’t be mad at Pinkie! She was just trying to save me! I-if she hadn’t found me when she did, I... I...”

As Lily’s words trailed off, Pinkie reached out with a foreleg, and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine now, okay?”

Spitfire opened her mouth to speak, only for Rainbow Dash to raise a hoof, cutting her off. “Let me handle this, Spits. You’re terrible with foals, remember?”

Spitfire’s lips curled into a frown, but then relaxed shortly after. “...Yeah, that’s fair.”

Approaching slowly, Rainbow pulled her goggles up, and looked Lily in the eye. “Hey. You’re Lily Pad, right? From the same class as Scootaloo?”

Lily sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “...Yeah.”

“Is everything okay?” said Rainbow. “Where are your parents?”

Lily’s eyes trailed toward the ground, her ears drooping by the side of her head. “I don’t have a dad,” she said. “And mom is away on business trip. She left me with a babysitter, but they... I... I-don’t think they were very nice. They took me away, and tied me up, and t-there was a knife, and... and...”

Once again, Lily let out a sob. She pulled back towards Pinkie, who reached out once again to comfort her. Slowly, Lily’s shivering began to fade away, replaced with slow, hiccuping breaths.

Spitfire’s eyes went wide, her dilating pupils visible even through her goggles. “A sacrifice,” she snarled. “I’d heard the rumors, but I didn’t think they’d actually do it, the bast—”

“Let’s keep the language age-appropriate, Spitfire,” Rainbow cut in.

“...Right. My bad.”

“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Pinkie offered a few last words of reassurance to Lily, before turning to face Spitfire. “So what’s this about the ‘intel’ you have? I’d never even heard of a cult like this before!”

Spitfire shook her head. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but since you already met them, I suppose there’d be no harm. There used to be small village near the southern edge of the Everfree, until it burned down thirty years ago under mysterious circumstances. We don’t know exactly what caused it, but we’ve found evidence it was linked to cult activity that popped up in the Everfree afterward. Though we’ve had some difficulties tracking them, we received an anonymous tip that they’d be up to something today.”

“Wow!” said Pinkie. “So the Wonderbolts do spy stuff now? I had no idea!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. The Wonderbolts were founded by veterans when the military disbanded. This sort of stuff falls to us by default.”

“Oh yeah!” said Pinkie. “I remember that now! I helped you study that, right?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to do the rap again.”

“I’m sorry,” said Spitfire, “the what now? Did I miss something here?”

“No,” Rainbow deadpanned. “No, you did not.”

“Um, excuse me,” Lily chimed in. All eyes turned to her as she stepped forward. “I’m... not sure what you guys are talking about, but what’s going to happen to me now? I... I don’t have to go to school, do I? Class was supposed to have a birthday thing for me today, but I must have missed it already...”

There was a pause, as Rainbow and Spitfire shared a glance, and then turned towards Pinkie, gazing at her expectantly.

“Hey, don’t worry,” said Pinkie. “After everything that’s happened, I’m sure Cheerilee won’t mind if you took the rest of the day off. Plus when you get back, your class can have birthday cupcakes and a congratulations-on-escaping-ritual-sacrifice-from-a-weirdo-cult cupcakes!”

The corners of Lily’s mouth twitched. Though at first they seemed hesitant, before long they curled upwards into a smile. “R-really?”

Pinkie nodded vigorously. “Mmm-hmm! And if you need someone to babysit, I can stick around until your mom gets back. How’s that sound?”

Lily’s smile grew wider. “I... I think I’d like that, yeah.”

Returning the smile, Pinkie leaned in as Lily once again came forward into a hug. There would undoubtedly be more issues to work out with Lily, things to explain to her mother and her class. Such a close brush with death would undoubtedly have left a lasting mark on a little filly, ones that couldn’t be solved with a simple smile. And knowing that brought a heaviness to Pinkie’s heart that she couldn’t ignore.

But right now, in this moment, Lily was happy, and seeing that made Pinkie happy. That was all the reason she ever needed to be there for someone in need.

And yet still, questions lingered on her mind. Where did the cult come from? Who had given the Wonderbolts the anonymous tip that brought them here? Just what exactly happened thirty years ago?

Perhaps she would never know. And for what it was worth, Pinkie was okay with that.

————————

Pinkie, Joyful Hedonist 2BRR

Legendary Creature — Horse

Each nonland card you own that isn't on the battlefield has madness. The madness cost is equal to the card's mana cost reduced by 1. (If you discard a card with madness, discard it into exile. When you do, cast it for its madness cost or put it into your graveyard.)

At the beginning of your upkeep, discard a card at random.

”What can I say? Sometimes I even surprise myself!”

3/3

————————

Thirty years earlier...

Seeing everything before him burning was not a new experience. Twelve hundred years of walking the planes meant that not a lot of things were new. Yet despite the familiarity of the situation, Time Turner walked forward with trepidation that was entirely unfamiliar.

Where he was could have been described as a village... once. Now, it was little more than a massive collection of bonfires, built from the demolished remains of the wooden houses that bordered the forest. The villagers were all equally unrecognizable. Whoever they may have been before, they had all become gibbering madponies, gleefully dancing, singing, drinking, mutilating and cannibalizing one another, and rolling gleefully in their own spilled blood. Despite everything gruesome he had seen across the multiverse, he still couldn’t bear to give the unfortunate souls more than a passing glance. Not merely out of disgust, but out of fear that making eye contact would break the perception filter shielding himself from notice.

Fear. That was a new sensation. He’d experienced fear before, but never because he feared dying. Killing him in the old days was nigh-impossible, and he’d made a point not to make enemies of the few beings in the multiverse who could. But now it was different. He was fleshy, vulnerable, mortal. And as he approached the center of the village, he felt his heartbeat intensify as his blood ran ever-more thick with fear.

Heartbeat. Singular. What a strange feeling. Back when he was still a shapeshifter, he always kept a spare within him. Redundant organs proved surprisingly useful in most contexts, and it really made him wonder why ponies only bothered with kidneys.

The thought was pushed out of his mind as he reached his destination. A throne, crudely cobbled out of wood and bone, tall enough to stand over all of the bonfires surrounding it. And from atop its seat, above a large volume of equally-crude stairs, sat the one Time Turner was looking for. A red-furred goat, much like the animals native to Equestria, though his four horns and burning eyes made him far more resemble Grogar, the legendary villain of Equestria’s past.

As Time Turner approached, the goat’s eyes gazed down at him. He grinned, and stood up from his slouching posture, the crimson light of flames reflecting off his teeth.

“What do we have here? Another pony eager to take part in our celebration? Feel free to join in the festivities, friend. All are welcome in the court of King Stranger.”

“Well, as much as I hate to be the killjoy around here, I’m afraid this party’s over,” said Time Turner. “If this little campfire you’ve started spreads any further, it’s liable reach the Everfree Forest and burn the whole thing down. That, and the whole brainwashing thing you’ve pulled. Can’t say I’m a fan of that, really.”

The King gave a deep, gravely laugh. “Oh, I see how it is! Don’t think I can’t see exactly what you are, planeswalker. Only your kind thinks it their place to meddle in affairs beyond their understanding. Only a god can claim power over me. And you, planeswalker, are certainly no god.”

Time Turner paused. His foe was far more perceptive than he’d anticipated. However, he had already revealed a glaring weakness. “I may not be a god, but I know hubris when I see it. And I’m sure you know what they say about pride before a fall.”

Once again, the King laughed. “Pride! The planeswalker thinks he can lecture me about pride! As I’ve said, you fail to understand what it is you’re meddling in. Like all of you who’ve come before, you envision yourself an architect of fate, willfully blind to the depths of your insignificance. But you cannot deny the truth forever. Like all things, you too must one day end. And you know there will come a day where everything you have accomplished is forgotten.”

Time Turner’s eyes narrowed. “You can wax philosophical all you like, but I’m still going to stop you. Either free these ponies from your spell, or I’ll break the spell by force. It’s your choice.”

Slowly, the King began to walk down the stairway to the throne, each step carrying the weight of unyielding pride. “Free them? Look around you, planeswalker. I have already freed them. Before me, they had spent every waking moment of their lives burdened by the knowledge of their mortality. But now they know nothing, and are as such forever rid of that burden. Only when one does not fear death can one truly live.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of true. Evolutionarily speaking. We’d be extinct if we all died too fast.”

The King’s lips curled downwards, into a sneer. “I see. I should have known better than to rely on the folly of reason, especially with one like you. If you refuse see the necessity of my Great Revel, then perhaps you can prove useful as another bonfire. Begone.”

There was a shockwave of magical force as the King stomped on the ground. Instantly, a fireball appeared above the King’s horns, and with a swift bob of his head it was sent flying straight towards Time Turner. Leaping backwards and up into the air, Time Turner dodged the brunt of the blast, feeling only a light singe as the explosion toasted the air.

When the fallout of the explosion dissipated, Time Turner carried his downward momentum as he continued falling as he prepared a magical counterattack. A fast-time bubble formed at the end of his right-rear hoof, superheating the air within it. Then, with a powerful twisting kick, he launched the bubble straight at the King’s forehead.

There was a deafening shockwave of sound as the bubble burst on impact, the hot air exploding into a blast of concentrated sonic energy. The force of the impact sent the King flying backwards, directly into the base of the throne. As Time Turner landed on four hooves, the throne collapsed from the impact, sending a massive cloud of dirt and splinters billowing into the air.

After several seconds of silence, the cloud of dust faded away. In its place was the King, horns cracked and fur matted with blood, glaring at Time Turner through gritted teeth.

“So,” said Time Turner. “Are you ready to give up now?”

The King hesitated. His anger was palpable, so much that the already-blistering heat seemed even more intense. Yet in time, his gritted teeth turned into another vicious grin. His eyes flashed red, shining brightly with a new magic. “...As you wish, planeswalker. The rest, I shall leave to you.”

Time Turner opened his mouth to speak, but by then, the King was already fading away. Wisps of flame engulfed his body, the familiar magic of the spark tingled at Time Turner’s spine.

Bloody hell, of course he’s also a planeswalker. How did I not figure that one out sooner? And just what did he mean by—

His thoughts were immediately interrupted, when the sound of hoofsteps approached from all sides. All around him, the villagers had gathered, their eyes blazing with malicious intent.

“Ah. That’s what he meant. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me still.” Time Turner sighed, and then assumed a fighting stance as the horde closed in. “Oh, well. Sorry in advance for this, everypony! Allons-y!”

Author's Note

Phew! That’s the last of the Mane 6’s cards out of the way. This is easily one of the darker chapters I’ve written... at first. I’m not the sort to write a little filly actually dying in ritual sacrifice, nor am I one to deny Pinkie a chance to shine through in a comedic fashion.

Pinkie Pie was an odd beast to design a card for, since her spontaneity is something that’s difficult to replicate in a game inherently based on strict and rigid rules. That said, the madness mechanic paired with random discard is a perfect way to do this and I think it reflects Pinkie being predictably unpredictable, in a way.

Her color identity was tricky to nail down, but red/black is one that I feel works fairly well. While the color combination is mostly associated with violent amoralism, there is a side to Red/Black in MtG canon that’s depicted less as violent sadists and more as hedonism, the intersection of black’s amoralism and red’s impulsiveness. This hedonism fits very well into the lifestyle of a free spirit, which we’ve seen in factions like the Azra or the Lorwyn Boggarts, neither of which are anything close to “evil” in the traditional sense.

So Pinkie, while genuinely caring towards her friends, can be remarkably self-centered at times, and while she’s very perceptive of other ponies’ needs and desires, she also has a tendency to ignore their personal space because... well, she feels like doing so. And it’s been repeatedly suggested throughout the season that her friendships (of which there are a lot) are the sole basis for her entire sense of self-esteem, so even that has a selfish element to it.

This doesn’t mean that Pinkie doesn’t care for her friends very deeply (Red is the color most strongly associated with empathy, after all), but it does mean that her love of her friends doesn’t come from a sense of responsibility, community, or moral rightness. While the other color combinations would see friendship as a means of furthering their values, red/black doesn’t really value doing anything other than “I do what I want.” And for Pinkie, there’s virtually zero practical difference between selfishness and selflessness, because what she wants more than anything else in the world is to see others happy.

The second half of the chapter is something I’ve hinted at before, in Twilight’s Spark, when Time Turner mentions having once dealt with a “nasty-looking goat fellow.” It should be pretty obvious who that is, if you’re familiar with Magic’s story. :raritywink:

Thick as Thieves, Part 1

Verko’s office was a very plain room. A small chamber, sparsely decorated with only a few pieces of antique furniture: A simple wooden desk with a matching chair, a standing lamp, red velvet drapes, a wall clock, and a few cheap-looking landscape paintings.

To an outsider, it would look almost quaint. But to everyone else in Klugetown, it stood uncomfortably apart. Far from the constant bustle of the merchant town, everything in the office was oppressively still. The only sound to be heard was the gentle ticking of the clock — and Verko’s claws tapping against each other as he steepled his fingers.

As Capper entered, Verko’s goggles gleamed in the room’s dull light. Though some would call him a naked mole rat, he was never seen without his trademark clothing. A tuxedo and top hat, patched and worn in places, yet always kept clean of any traces of sand or dust. In a desert town, such a feat would cost a fortune.

With an open palm, he gestured to a roughly-hewn wooden stool placed right in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Capper placed himself on the seat, so low to the ground that his knees almost reached his chest as he sat. From such a low angle Verko seemed to tower over him, his desk nearly eclipsing the entire room. The glare of his goggles intensified as he frowned, staring down at Capper.

“Do you know why I called you here, Mr. Dapperpaws?”

Capper had to force himself not to tug at his coat-collar. “No, I can’t say I do.”

Verko sneered. The click-click-click of his claws intensified as he furiously tapped them together. “For the sake of being charitable, I’m going to assume you’re telling the truth. Lately, you have been getting involved with some very interesting creatures. Interesting and important creatures.”

“Important... wait, you mean those ponies?” Wheels began to turn in Capper’s head. With a bit of work, he could spin this to his advantage. “Because I happen to be something of a hero to them, you know. If it’s a favor you want, I could—”

Verko raised a hand. “Stop right there. I’m not letting you weasel your way out of this.”

“Actually, I’m more of a cat—”

“That is irrelevant!” Verko interjected. “What I’m trying to get at here is ‘those ponies’ were not the mere livestock you told me they were. Oh no. They were much more than that.” He sat up from his chair, his bare footsteps sounding across the wooden floor as he approached the window. He held his hands behind his back as he stared outwards, into the distant skies.

“See, while you were busy lounging about in my town, I’ve had a few eyes scout out Equestrian lands to the north. I didn’t think there was anything up there worth the effort, but your little adventures got me curious. You know what I found?”

“...more ponies?”

“Not just more ponies. I found that there are six ponies of particular importance to that kingdom. Heroes. Legends. Royalty.”

With every word that Verko spoke, comprehension began to dawn on Capper. He did not like where it was taking him.

“For fifty years I’ve owned this town. I found these crooks and scoundrels and brought them under my heel. Before, they were no more than a loose collection of barbarians and outcasts. Now, they’re part of the most wretched hive of scum and villainy you’ll ever see.”

“Er,” said Capper. “Good for you?”

“It’s not good enough,” Verko spat. “I’ve been content with running the show in this measly little town, but the world is bigger than that. And now you’ve proven that there are greater things within my grasp. You stiffed me out of those ponies, and since then I’ve learned that those very same ponies hold the respect and admiration of thousands. My sources have even told me that one of them is a possible heir to their throne! Do you have any idea what sort of bargaining power that would buy me? I could have held an entire kingdom at ransom!”

“With due respect, Mr. Verko sir, I don’t know if provoking an entire kingdom is a good idea.”

“There’s no such thing as profit without risk,” Verko countered. “But those ponies don’t know that. They believe in silly things like ‘friendship’ and ‘love.’ That means they’ll pay any price to see the heroes they cherish alive. Do you understand what I want from you, Mr. Dapperpaws?”

Capper paused. A part of him wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“And are you familiar with the phrase, ‘there’s more than one way to skin a cat?’”

Capper nodded vigorously. This time he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but the lump in his throat was too thick to speak.

“Good,” said Verko. “You have one week to find those ponies and bring them to me. Don’t think you can run away from the deal this time, because I have eyes watching you at all times, and they will follow you to the ends of the earth. Fail, and I will show you exactly how many ways to skin a cat there are.”

————————

Verko, Crimelord of Klugetown 3BB

Legendary Creature — Rat Rogue

Assassins, Mercenaries, and other Rogues you control get +1/+1.

Whenever another creature you control deals combat damage to a player, that player discards a card.

Every lowlife, knave, and villain south of Equestria answers to him.

3/3

————————

“Stop! Thief!”

I couldn’t possibly count the number of times I’d heard that in my life, though I could tell you that the number of times it worked was zero. Either way, it was a phrase that felt like home.

Of course, when you have the power to travel the multiverse on a whim, ‘home’ can be a little hard to define. I’ve tended to spend much of my time on Ravnica, though it's been getting harder to avoid trouble as of late. Guild tensions have steadily escalated, and I've gotten the vague feeling it'll head somewhere catastrophic soon.

That didn’t stop me from getting my hands on Ravnica’s best treasures, though. Spend enough time here, and you’re bound to see at least one poster with a big ‘WANTED: DACK FAYDEN’ on the front. There was an odd amount of pride I took in seeing my bounty go up with every successful heist — even though a part of me know that my reputation was half the reason things always went wrong for me.

This was one of those times were things went wrong without any fault of my own. The dozen or so Lyev chasing after me were nothing new; that I could handle. Unfortunately for me, I ran into a few... let’s call them complications. My intended escape route was cut off by what looked to be an entire building that had spontaneously collapsed to rubble since I last saw it, which caused a fairly significant traffic jam. I tried to duck into a side alley, but on my way I ended up bumping into a very nasty-looking ogre who took personal offense, and nearly ended up losing my head for it. I still don’t know how he was able to conceal a knife that big.

Eventually, I was able to duck into another alley during the commotion, and for a moment I thought I was in the clear. But just when I was finally starting to relax, I heard the unmistakable clank of a dozen armored footsteps. Coming from both directions of the street.

Ah, hell.

Sure enough, I quickly found myself surrounded on both sides. One of the Lyev officers stepped forward, someone higher in rank from the looks of his ornamentation. He looked at me with stern and unwavering confidence, and produced a scroll.

“Dack Fayden. Per the official decree of District Commander Rayf, you are hereby charged with the following crimes. Burglary, assault and battery, criminal mischief, disorderly conduct, forgery, fraud, incitement to riot, murder, resisting arrest, smuggling, solicitation of contraband...”

This could go on for a while... Wait, rioting!?

It took me a moment, but it dawned on me what he was talking about. Not too long ago, I’d led a group of my fellow scoundrels to Vhitu-Gazi, the giant tree that served as the Selesnya guildhall. There, we waged battle against a planeswalker named Sifa Grent, who planned to drain the tree’s life to fuel her power. Though many of my cohorts died that day, we managed to kill her and stop her from destroying the immense City-Tree. Hearing these stone-faced Lyev describe that as ‘rioting’ and ‘murder’ made me see red. I’d stopped the most dire threat to Ravnica since the Guildpact broke!

There wasn’t much time to ponder that, though. If my body made even a single twitch, I’d be put into a detention spell faster than I could think. That left me only one option. I had to disappear.

Sorry, boys. It’s been fun, but I’ve gotta go. Purple mist surrounded me as I hastily jumped Ravnica’s metaphysical borders. The last thing I saw before I vanished was a detention spell being hurled my way, but by the time it reached me I was already gone.

But I ran into an unexpected problem. See, when you’re attempting to planeswalk as fast as possible, it’s next to impossible to have any control over your destination. Thinking about where you want to go takes time, and that was time that I didn’t have.

And the plane I ended up on was quite a lot different from anywhere I’d been before.

————————

When the mist cleared, the first thing I’d noticed was that my face felt like it’d been smashed in with a brick. No, scratch that. Everything felt like that, like I’d been flying at a hundred kilometers per hour and crashed into a brick wall.

Once the pain began to subside, I quickly noticed that something else was horribly wrong — I couldn’t feel my hands. Namely, because I didn’t have any.

As I stood up on all four legs, I stared down at my hooves, and contemplated the bizarre reality of that sentence. My whole body was covered in a light blue coat of hair, and if I turned to look behind me I could see a brown tail hanging off my backside, one which presumably matched my hair. Sorry, mane. My front right hoof was stained red, so no real change there, and for some odd reason whatever had transformed me had given my jacket a new fit as well, allowing it to drape over my shoulders and across my back. My other clothes were gone, but I’d rarely ever seen a horse wearing pants, so I figured that wasn’t too much to be concerned with right now.

Sorry, did I say horse? That wasn’t quite accurate. I’d quickly realized there was something sticking out of my forehead, and a cursory inspection revealed it to be a horn. I was a unicorn. Somehow, though some twist of fate, I had been transformed into an adorable little unicorn pony.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, I had also planeswalked straight into the middle of a desert. All around me were sandy dunes and the occasional dry scrub bush, with a few rocky spires jutting out of the ground for good measure. To my left I could see something in the distance — an especially large spire that seemed to have smoke coming out of it, and if I squinted to see through the heat-distorted air I could just make out what looked like buildings on it.

In any other situation like that, I would have headed towards the first sign of civilization I could find, in the hopes that I might find a place to stay or a few trinkets to ‘borrow.’ But given that I was nowhere near human, I wasn’t sure if that was the best course of action then. I might end up being mistaken for livestock, or a wild animal.

But on the other hand — or hoof — I didn’t really have anywhere else I could go. I could have tried to planeswalk away, but I wasn’t even sure if that was possible in this form, or if doing so would make me human again. I had to figure out something, or else I might end up being stuck as a pony forever. So it was either head towards that town, or likely die of thirst wandering the desert.

It didn’t take me long to decide on the first option. But before I spent all that time and energy trekking over to the town, I decided it was to take a look at the goods I had stolen from Ravnica. I never got the chance to take a good look at what it was, since it was wrapped in a very important-looking parcel, and now was as good a time as any.

Thankfully, the lack of opposable thumbs didn’t seem to be much of a problem. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing at first, so I barely even noticed the glow that surrounded the parcel as I lifted it out from under my coat, or sensation of magic in my forehead. But it became apparent that I was somehow moving it without even touching it — apparently being a unicorn gave me some kind of telekinesis.

Sure, why not. At that point, I already was so baffled by everything else that I didn’t even question it. I carefully unwrapped the parcel and took a good look at the item that was carried within it.

It was a glove. Not even a pair of gloves, not even an especially nice-looking one, just one simple leather glove. Since I couldn’t really wear the thing in my current state, I figured I might as well try to get some use out of it. Laying down on the sand in front of me, I quietly muttered an incantation, and probed the glove’s magic with my telemetry. In no time at all, I’d learned exactly what the glove could do, and how to recreate its effect myself.

The glove, I’d learned, was a Glove of Identification. It would let me identify the exact use and purpose of any magical artifact I touched with it. Considering my telemetry did exactly that, my prize was worse than useless. I begrudgingly stuffed it into my coat pocket, hoping I could at least sell it for a decent price once I got this horse thing figured out.

“Dammit,” I muttered to myself. I paused for a moment, realizing what I’d just said. I could still talk, which was good. There was no guarantee that anyone would listen to a talking pony, granted, but it was a start.

There was a brief glimmer of doubt in my mind as I looked towards the town in the distance. I had no idea how anyone would react to the sight of a talking pony — or even if there’d be anyone who could help my predicament. But it was the only lead I had, and I was never a person to avoid taking risks.

It was settled, then. I’d head out towards the town and scope it out for any information on where I was, and just what I could do to make myself human again.

————————

I’m not sure what I had been expecting from the town, but what I saw when I got there certainly wasn’t it.

The entire place was built so haphazardly that I was astounded it still held together. Rickety shacks and crumbling concrete buildings comprised the whole place, with little thought given to the architecture or layout. Everything looked like it was thrown together out of whatever materials happened to be nearby. Add the fact that the town was perched on a very thin spire, and you had a settlement that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

Then there was the fact that the entire town was populated solely by beastmen. That was a bit less unusual, considering the diversity of the multiverse at large, but it did call into question a few things. Were there any humans around here? Did they even know enough about humans to turn me back into one?

Questions for another time, I decided. For now I just had to get my bearings, and figure out just what kind of plane I was in. I’d observed the goings-on in the town from a distance, careful to hide my presence behind alleyways in the occasional pile of junk. Most of the beastmen were very large rugged-looking, and somehow I had a hunch they wouldn’t be too friendly to weird talking ponies.

Hiding grew considerably more difficult as I progressed further inward, towards the center of the town. The various residential buildings gradually gave way to a sprawling open-air market lined with tents, shops, pubs, restaurants, and anything else you could think of to buy and sell things. This was quite clearly a traders’ town, first and foremost. What a place like this was doing in the middle of a desert instead of a port or river, I had no idea. But it meant there were increasingly few places I could hide convincingly. As I peered around the corner of the alley, into the hub of the marketplace, I saw dozens upon dozens of beastmen gathering around the various stalls, if not hundreds. I’d already reached peak population density.

“Shoot,” I muttered. I clearly hadn’t thought this through enough. I didn’t even know where I would go from here, and it was clear that I wasn’t going any further than this.

Slowly, I began to back up, hoping to retreat further into the alley and rethink my plan. But as I did, I ran rear-first into something — into someone — and from the sound of shattering pottery it seems they weren’t the only thing I’d run into.

I quickly turned around, and saw myself staring straight up at a massive hulk of a fish-man. And judging by the look on his face, and the bits of broken porcelain all around his feet, he wasn’t too happy about it.

“Hey! That vase was a gift for me gran! How dare you!”

Oh, hell. “Well, I’m sorry to hear about that. Maybe I could make it up to you later.”

The fish-man grinned, with a mad glint in the corner of his eye. “There’s no need for that, little pony. In fact, just looking at you gives me an idea for another gift.” He stretched out his arms in a way that looked entirely too grab-happy for my comfort.

I wasn’t sure what sort of “gift” the fish-man intended to get out of me, but I wasn’t about to let him get it. I reacted without even thinking, like a reflex. I quickly spun around, shifted my weight to my front legs, and bucked.

“Ow! My parts!”

The sound of my hooves against the pavement rattled through my ears. I quickly dashed past the fishman, exiting through other end of the alley...

...and straight into the middle of another open-air market. I was immediately greeted by dozens of glowering faces, all of them dropping whatever they were doing to stare. Clearly, a candy-colored pony was an unusual sight here.

“Get that pony! He broke me gran’s vase!”

“That jerk!”

“Nobody breaks his grandmother’s vase!”

I cursed under my breath. Somehow, every time things went wrong in my life, they found a way to get even worse.

I didn’t bother looking back to see how many people had decided to mob me, but the roaring footsteps made it clear that I had to get out of there, and quick.

As my legs carried me across the town, I darted back into an alley, hoping the narrow corridor would lose some of my pursuers. At the very least, I figured the smaller space would slow them down. The crashing and yelling I heard from behind me seemed to indicate it was partly successful, though I wasn’t anywhere close to home free just yet.

I wasn’t given the time to think about my next move, however, as I felt myself being grabbed by the leg. Everything blurred as I felt myself being yanked upward. My heart raced, and my body screamed at me to escape. I couldn’t see who had caught me, but they held their hand firmly over my mouth, silencing the numerous cuss words that would have otherwise escaped my mouth.

“Be quiet!”

“Mmph!”

“I said be quiet! They’ll hear you!”

I feebly tried to thrash about, shake my captor off, but their grip on me remained firm. I’d already tired myself out from all the running I’d done earlier, and having to get used to an entirely new body probably didn’t help matters either. After what felt like forever, I finally exhausted myself.

But just when I felt like I’d given up, the iron grip on my body relinquished itself, and I felt myself fall to the ground. After pausing to catch my breath, I struggled to stand up, and was face-to-face with my captor.

The first thing I noticed was that I was standing on a rooftop just above the alley. My immediate first thought was that it would take superhuman acrobatic skill to pull me by leg as I was running full speed and toss me all the way up here. My second thought was that this was perfectly explained by who — or rather, what — my captor was.

He was a catfolk with brown fur and emerald green eyes, and a lean athletic build that spoke to a lifetime of climbing about the town’s buildings. He would have had no trouble clinging to an awning or a windowsill, grabbing me as I passed by, and then leaping up here with myself in tow. Notably, the cat-man had a blue mane atop his fur, styled into a slick coif. Though he wore a long maroon-colored jacket, he had no pants to speak of — a fact that I chose not to dwell on.

My captor dusted himself off, glanced down at the now-empty alley, and turned back to me. “Alright, they’re gone. Sorry for the scare.” He held out his paw, in a gesture reminiscent of a handshake. “Capper Dapperpaws, at your service.”

I couldn’t articulate a response right away. My mind was still recovering from panic mode, so it took me a second or two to respond. “Just moments ago, I thought you were one of those goons threatening my life. No offense, but what reason would I have to shake hands? Or paws. Hooves.”

The cat-man shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame you for being suspicious” said ‘Mr. Dapperpaws.’ “Klugetown isn’t a very friendly place, especially not for ponies.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Capper raised his paws. “Look, I apologize if we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m just here to make sure you don’t end up on the wrong side of the livestock trade. Ponies don’t often come to these parts. Not willingly.”

Livestock. That word rattled around in my mind for a good second before I fully grasped its implications. Despite the readily observable fact that I was no less of a person than any of the beastfolk here, I would be treated no differently from cattle.

It dawned on me then and there that I’d planeswalked right into the middle of a slaver town.

There was a brief flash of anger in my chest, but it subsided just as quickly. Such barbaric practices, as common as they were throughout the multiverse, were usually beyond my ability to solve. And right now, in my current state, I don’t think there’d be anything I could do about this town’s state of affairs that wouldn’t end with me either dead or in chains.

And then there was the matter of this ‘Capper’ person. For all I know, he could have his own plans for me, seeing as I was just what he described me as here — livestock. But despite the scare he gave me, he did probably save my life. That made him more trustworthy than everyone else I’d encountered here, by default. I had little in the way of options, and as I’d learned from experience, sometimes you have to take whatever help you can get.

With all that said, I couldn’t help but sigh. “Figures. Do you happen know of any places nearby where I won’t have to fear for my life at every corner?”

The strange look Capper gave me made it clear that this wasn’t a question a planar native would typically be asking. “The closest place you’ll find is to the north, and that’s across a hundred miles of desert.”

I cursed under my breath. It was something, at the least. “Just my luck. Guess I’m heading north, then.”

Capper’s eyes went wide. “Whoa! Hold on! You’re not just planning to cross the entire Bone Dry Desert by yourself, are you?”

“I’m aware it’s not exactly ideal, but I don’t really have much choice,” I said. “Just point me in the right direction and I’ll be on my way.”

“Hey, time out! Listen to yourself!” Capper interjected. “You’ll barely last a day in the desert if you don’t properly stock up, and you’ll barely last two days if you don’t have someone else to watch your back. There are some nasty things out there, especially at night.”

“I’m not exactly sure what else you’re suggesting,” I replied. “I somehow doubt I’ll find someone around here who’d be willing to guide me the whole way.”

“Well, it’s funny you should say that, friend,” said Capper, flashing a grin, “because I happen to be planning to travel north as well, and have been looking for a traveling companion. Maybe you and I could work together, for our mutual benefit.”

And just like that, everything started to fall into place. I couldn’t trust this total stranger to have saved me out of the kindness of his heart. Not in a place like this, and especially not when I was in a form seen as a common pack animal. But if he needed to cross the desert, then he needed something that could help carry his supplies.

I didn’t like the idea of working together — not if I was seen as no more than a beast of burden. But I was in an unfamiliar plane, in an unfamiliar body, and no other place to turn to if I wanted to find out how to get myself back to normal. And once I was north, in safer territory, I could hopefully find someone good enough at magic to find a way to make me human again.

“Alright,” I said. I reached out with a hoof, meeting Capper for a hoof-and-paw shake. “Dack Fayden, and you’ve got a deal. On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re carrying half the load. And no riding on my back.”

————————

On a distant rooftop, a pair of narrow eyes peered through a pair of binoculars, its black casing matching the color of the claws that held it. Though the lenses, he intently watched his target — one mister Capper Dapperpaws — and the odd blue unicorn that he had dragged onto the rooftop. The two were engaged in an uneasy conversation, one that apparently resulted in a deal being struck, as they concluded it with a hoof-and-pawshake.

The wind shifted subtly, and he could feel the desert air blowing across the cutwings beneath his arms. He clicked his tongue as he licked the tip of his beak. Despite his more advanced mind, a more primal part of him hungered for the flesh of his prey. His tail flicked idly behind him, its spikes letting a loose rattle.

A loud and sudden clanging of metal echoed behind him, and he nearly dropped his binoculars in shock. He turned around to face the offender — an adolescent dragon with large v-shaped horns, just barely shorter than himself. Her massive, weblike wings were folded as small as they could be, and her scales had the color and appearance of steel. Across her waist was a simple purple robe, loosely and awkwardly tied around her body to accommodate her massive wingspan.

“Dammit, Kusha! I told you not to distract me!”

Kusha stared back at him apologetically. “Sorry, Nargus. I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, metal scales, I know. Just hold still for a second, will you?” He held his binoculars back, and his eyes narrowed. “Interesting, very interesting...”

“What is it?”

“It looks like our mark’s got himself another pony friend,” Nargus replied. “Oh, Verko’s definitely going to want to hear this...”

————————

Nargus Cugio 1UB

Legendary Creature — Drake Rogue

Flash; first strike

When Nargus Cugio enters the battlefield, put a bounty counter on target creature an opponent controls.

Whenever a creature with a bounty counter on it leaves the battlefield, draw a card.

1UB, Pay 2 life: Return Nargus Cugio to its owner’s hand.

2/2

————————

Kusha Irongale 2UR

Legendary Creature — Dragon Spellshaper

Flying

1U, T, Discard a card: Counter target noncreature spell unless its controller pays 2.

2R, T, Discard a card: Kusha Irongale deals 3 damage to any target.

Seeking purpose in life, Kusha left the frigid Southern Continent in search of adventure.

3/3

Author's Note

This took a while to get out, but I’ve been wanting to do this since at least 2018! This may also end up being the last series I put out under the name Sideboard Stories, once this is done I will likely have any future spinoffs set in this universe become their own one-shots. Either way, I’m glad to have finally realized this chapter.

In unrelated news, Monster Hunter Rise sure looks good, doesn’t it? :raritywink:

Thick as Thieves, Part 2

Spending hours trekking across the desert wasn’t a particularly new feeling for me, as my particular lifestyle often demanded that I flee from civilization — but it was still something I preferred to avoid whenever possible. The unrelenting sun, combined with the hot and sandy desert wind, made for an altogether unpleasant experience. I’d likely be scrubbing the sand out of my hair for over an hour, once all was said and done.

True to his word, Capper agreed to help carry half of the supplies. Between the two of us, we didn’t have much, just the bare necessities to cross the Bone Dry Desert. There were, according to him, several towns on the northern edge where we could resupply when it came to that, but for now he’d deemed it was best to pack light.

We didn’t speak much in the intervening hours. I couldn’t quite tell what his reasoning was, but it was obvious that Capper wanted to get the hell out of Klugetown as quickly as possible, and I just so happened to give him the opportunity to do so. As we crossed the dunes, I couldn’t help but notice that he kept looking back, observing the way that the breeze covered up the tracks we left in the sand.

“So, how’d you end up in Klugetown, anyway?”

My attention was drawn away from my own thoughts. It was the first time that Capper had spoken to me since we began traveling.

“Just passing through,” I said. The old reliable.

Capper shot me a smirk. There was a sudden gleam in his eye, the exact kind a house cat would have when you dangled a string in front of it. And I don’t mean that figuratively.

“See, that’s the thing. I just don’t see how that’s possible. You didn’t know a thing about the place, or the desert you’d have had to cross to get there. Last I checked, Klugetown is the southernmost settlement on this continent. Unless you came from the ocean, I’m not sure how you ended up there.”

Crud. So much for the vague answer. Clearly, my traveling companion had never heard the adage about curiosity. Still, I don’t think I could tell him the whole truth without inviting a ton of other questions I didn’t care to answer.

“You could call it a teleport spell gone wrong,” I said. Not entirely inaccurate, depending on your definition of ‘teleport.’

“I see. I hear teleport magic can be quite tricky, you know,” said Capper. “You must be quite the accomplished mage to manage it across such a long distance.”

“Not as accomplished as I’d always like,” I mused. “I imagine a real wizard does a lot less running than I do.”

Still seemingly unaware of the old saying, Capper looked at me curiously. “Where were you planning on running to?”

“From,” I countered. “The keyword is from.”

After that, Capper went silent. There was a solemn look in his eye for a moment, before he looked away, turning his eye to the long stretch of desert ahead of us. Something about what I said seemed to strike a chord with him — and I think I had a good idea why.

“So. What are you trying to get away from?” I could see Capper visibly wince. “Oh, don’t give me that look. From the moment we met, you’ve been all too eager to get out of that town, despite the fact that there’s apparently no other settlement for miles. And you keep looking back, as though you expect to be followed. Not that I don’t appreciate you helping me, but I’d like to have some idea of just what it is I’m getting into.”

Capper hesitated for a moment. He looked like he didn’t want to answer, but ultimately I think he knew he couldn’t keep me from finding out what was up.

“I got in trouble with the boss. That’s all you need to know.”

It didn’t take me long to put two and two together. It was a situation I’d been in myself, more than once. “So you upset someone powerful, and now you’re a wanted man. Er, cat.” I took a moment to look behind us, towards the direction of Klugetown. The town had long since faded into the horizon, and I saw nothing but the endless expanse of dunes. “You really think he’d send his goons all the way out here?”

“I don’t know,” Capper said plainly. “He could have been bluffing. But you don’t call the boss’s bluff if you value your hide.”

A stiff breeze blew across the sand. I looked back again, seeing the wind erase the prints we left behind. Between the inhospitable climate and, nature covering its tracks for us, and the monsters that supposedly came out at night, it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to follow us. So that meant either nobody was pursuing us, or whoever was pursuing us had to be exceptionally tough.

Knowing my luck, it was almost guaranteed to be the latter.

“I’ll watch the rear,” I said. “You keep lead.”

————————

“...I don’t care. I want you to comb through every single grain of sand sin the desert if necessary!”

Nargus gently massaged his forehead with his hand. In his other hand he held a small crystal ball, through which he could see the flickering visage of Verko, staring angrily through the static-filled orb.

“Sir,” said Nargus, “with respect, I don’t think—”

“Does it look like I’m paying you to think!?” Verko shouted back. “Now go out there and find that cat! And don’t even think about returning until you’ve found him, and made sure he’s held up his end of the deal!”

The transmission cut off, and Nargus was left to stare at the now empty crystal ball. He sighed, and shoved it back into his pocket.

“No luck?” Kusha spoke from right beside him. Despite the long, exhausting trek through the desert so far, the dragon’s eyes had not once begun to lose their youthful energy.

“I tried to tell the boss, there’s no way we’ll find him at this rate. No dice; he doesn’t want to hear it. We’re not gonna be able to head back until we’ve finished the job.”

“Oh,” said Kusha. “Well, look on the bright side! At least this way, we get to spend lots of quality time together!”

“Yeah, sure,” said Nargus. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Hey, Nargus?” Just as he turned to continue on the trail, Kusha called out to him again. “This may sound weird, but... why do you work for him again?”

Nargus was momentarily taken aback. He paused, and gave the girl a quizzical look. “What do you mean, ‘why do I work for him?’ It’s Klugetown, Kusha. Everyone works for Verko, whether they know it or not.”

“You sure about that?” said Kusha. “He seems like kind of a jerk.”

Nargus didn’t know how to respond. He simply stood for a moment, before shaking his head and turning around, beckoning Kusha to follow. “It is what it is. Come on, let’s keep moving.” Gods help her, that girl is as naive as the day she flew into tow—

Something occurred to Nargus. He felt like he could slap himself for not thinking of it sooner.

“Actually, now that you mention it, that gives me an idea.”

————————

When the sun began to dip below the horizon, we decided it would be best to make camp. The soles of my feet — or whatever the equivalent for hooves were — were already starting to ache.

“We’d best keep an eye out for Deviljho if we’re going to set up here,” said Capper.

“Deviljho?” I already didn’t like the sound of that name.

“The nastiest and hungriest monster you’ll ever see,” Capper said. “Thankfully not too common ‘round these parts, but it’s best to drop our supplies and run if one shows up.”

“Duly noted. I take it we’ll sleep in shifts?”

“See, now you’re getting the hang of it,” said Capper. “You go ahead and catch some Zs. I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to keep watch.”

In any other time or place, I’d be suspicious of this offer. This Capper fellow definitely had a history as scoundrel — takes one to know one, I suppose — and if we weren’t surrounded by miles of desert, this would be the perfect opportunity for him to grab my stuff and run while I was sleeping. A more paranoid part of me, the part that had prevented me from getting backstabbed in countless back alleys, still didn’t really want to take him up on the offer.

The rest of me promptly told the paranoid part of me to shut up. Capper was the closest thing I’d had to a friend on this plane. And it’s not like he’d be able to go anywhere with my belongings.

With a nod and a yawn, I acquiesced. Soon we had a crackling campfire set up, the only light around for miles, save for the crescent moon and the blanket of stars overhead. Despite our lack of bedding, I found it remarkably easy to curl up by the fire drift into the realm of sleep...

————————

With all the subtlety of an Orgg in an antique shop, Dack Fayden barged through the door. The tiny apartment was filthy, as to be expected of anywhere in the Undercity, but despite its dirty and moss-covered interior it was decorated with a surprising level of care. Dack would almost call it cozy if it weren’t covered in grime.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the person he came to see, sitting in an armchair, quietly sipping her tea. Her eyes glowed a sickly green as they narrowed, and Dack could feel their piercing gaze, even as he instinctively avoided making eye direct contact with them.

“Hello again, Dack,” said the gorgon. “I hope you don’t make a habit of barging into my home without knocking.”

Dack did not acknowledge Vraska’s statement. “You owe me an explanation,” he said. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a single newspaper clipping, and forcefully slammed it onto the coffee table between the two of them. On it, a single headline:

Orzhov bishop Adipex found murdered in bedchamber

Vraska raised an eyebrow. Dack simply stared back — but not too closely.

“Well?” said Dack. “Explain yourself.”

Vraska took an audible sip of her tea. “You were injured. Starving. I offered you hospitality in exchange for a job. And you performed it quite well, from the looks of it.”

“You told me to scope out the bishop’s home and find any weaknesses in its security,” Dack retorted. “You never told me it was for an assassination.”

Vraska frowned. “And what were you expecting, Dack? A simple burglary?”

“Wha— YES, of course I thought it was for a burglary! Do you have any idea how much gold the average Orzhov bishop has?”

Vraska took another sip of her tea. “I can tell this is not the outcome you were expecting. But let me give you some advice, Dack.”

“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, miss, but I don’t think I want advice from someone who made me accomplice to a murder.”

“Too bad. It’s within your best interest that you hear it. You won’t be able to survive off of petty theft and the kindness of strangers forever, Dack. Sooner or later, you’ll be caught....” her eyes glanced briefly at Dack’s right hand, and her lips curled upward, into a thin smirk. “...well, I’m sure you know the saying.”

Dack rolled his eyes. Never heard THAT one before.

“My point is, everyone’s luck runs out eventually. No one can run forever. Not even a planeswalker. Not even the self-proclaimed Greatest Thief in the Multiverse.”

It took a moment for Dack to fully register what had just been said to him, but when it did it brought his train of thought to a sudden crashing halt.

Dack froze, not even realizing he was suddenly staring straight into Vraska’s eyes. Wait, how did she — oh, hell, don’t tell me she’s one too!

Vraska gave a light chuckle, one that sent a tinge down Dack’s spine. He averted his gaze, thankful that the gorgon had not chosen not to exercise her stony will.

“The Multiverse is not fair, Dack. Not in Ravinica, or anywhere else. And if you continue to push your luck, you will die. That is why you have to force it to be fair.”

————————

Cull the Rich 2BG

Enchantment

Your opponents can’t create or sacrifice Treasure tokens.

At the beginning of your end step, each player with more life than you sacrifices a creature unless they lose 3 life.

The most ambitious members of the Golgari Swarm see wealth as a weakness — to obsess over mere riches is to be left at the mercy of those with far greater power.

Author's Note

I had to cut this chapter in half from what I originally planned of it — and since I’ve been busy trying to settle into my new home after moving to a different part of the country, I’ve sparsely had time to work on it. Things are looking up for me now though, so hopefully I’ll have part three up soon.

Ponyville Masquerade

Note: This chapter contains gore, possible spoilers for the ending of the main My Little Planeswalker story, and mild Rarijack cheese. Tread carefully, friends.

———————

Rarity’s hooves pattered gently against the glistening stonework road as she trotted away from Ponyville General Hospital, feeling the tiny droplets of water cling to her coat. It had only just rained several hours ago, and a thick layer of clouds still lingered above the streets of Ponyville, gentle sunbeams shining through and drying the largest puddles into a thin coating of moisture.

She smiled to herself, feeling the cool air against her skin. Other ponies would often find rainy days to be dreary, but for her it was refreshing. With the clouds covering the sky, the constant itch of the sun shining on her had been reduced to a pleasant tingle, much more similar to the feeling she had beneath a full moon. While she had grown numb to the mild sting of sunlight against her especially sensitive skin many years ago, she still welcomed a chance for a reprieve.

Granted, she could wear a sun hat on clear days, and she often did, but she just as often chose not to wear clothes and let her naturally glamourous appearance shine through. As for today, apart from the saddlebags carrying her groceries and a touch of conditioner in her mane, she was completely au naturale.

Rarity smiled, and she sniffed the cool autumn air. There was always a pleasant smell of leaves this time of year, one that was brought out especially strongly after a rainy day. Most other ponies wouldn’t care for it, but a reminder of her own mortality had taught her to cherish life whenever possible many years ago. As she took in the scent, she caught a whiff of the metallic yet distinctly savory smell coming from her groceries. She telekinetically opened one her bags and inspected them, seeing the items wrapped in unlabeled packages of brown paper and tied up with string. Despite her suddenly growling stomach, she mustered up the self-control to close the saddlebags and continue walking.

The rest of Rarity’s trip was mostly uneventful, as the heavily overcast weather left little pedestrian traffic in Ponyville. After a long trip across town, she had nearly arrived back at her house, only for her entire field of vision to suddenly become filled with bright pink.

“Hi, Rarity!” said Pinkie Pie.

Rarity leaned backwards as Pinkie, with the usual inability to understand personal space, pressed a very colorful muzzle up against her own. Pinkie’s eyes were wild with enthusiasm, as was her grin, and as she breathed, Rarity smelled the single most disgusting thing she ever smelled. Her stomach turned, and she had to fight the urge not to vomit.

“Oh, good heavens, Pinkie! Your breath is absolutely dreadful! You haven’t been neglecting your dental hygiene again, have you?”

Pinkie, thankfully, had enough courtesy to pull herself back. “Nope! I brush every day! But enough about that, do you know what it is today?”

“No, I don’t. And I’m guessing you don’t mean Wednesday.” Rarity didn’t particularly want to know the answer, but she knew that Pinkie would tell her regardless.

Pinkie’s near-perpetual grin became so large that it almost seemed to be wider than her face. “Today’s the day that Olive Orchard has their unlimited garlic bread special!” she cheered. “It’s the best non-pastry-related baked good ever! Here, want some?”

A slice of warm garlic bread somehow materialized in Pinkie’s hoof, and she shoved it straight into Rarity’s face. In the span of an instant, the overpowering stench of the foodstuff invaded her nostrils. She felt the smell snaking its way through her sinuses, down into her windpipe and digestive tract, and upwards into her brain. Her head throbbed with pain, her lungs burned, and her intestines felt like they were trying to leap out of her mouth and strangle her.

Then, just as quickly, her body reacted. She let out a beastly hiss, and swatted the garlic bread out of Pinkie’s grasp, hitting it away so quickly that she didn’t even see her hoof moving.

“So I take it that’s a no, then?” said Pinkie. She gave Rarity a shrug. “Oh well, more for me!”

As Pinkie happily bounced away, Rarity let out a tortured, violent series of coughs, desperately gasping for breath. By the time the burning sensation had cleared itself from her body, the pink mare was already gone.

“Curse you, Pinkie!” Rarity shouted at the empty street in a uncharacteristic moment of vulgarity. “That was without a doubt the absolute worst thing I’ve ever smelled! Is it too much to ask that you be more careful!?” She then let out a sigh, allowing the last of her frustration to exit her body. At the end of the day, she really couldn’t blame her friend for not knowing.

By the time she finally reached her house, Rarity had been almost completely exhausted, her encounter with Pinkie leaving her feeling drained. After putting her packaged groceries in the kitchen refrigerator, she walked over to her couch and collapsed on it in a decidedly undignified manner, promptly falling asleep.

———————

Gems. Shining, beautiful gems. Like fruits of the earth, they sparkled and glittered in her eyes, dazzling her with their exquisite light. It was a revelation unlike anything Rarity had experienced before, and she could feel the magic enveloping her as it changed her life forever.

Her new cutie mark was more fabulous than anything she could have ever expected. Three sky-blue diamonds, arranged in a triangular pattern on her flank, and fashioned into the finest cuts she had ever seen. She marveled at the way their color complimented her natural appearance; she couldn’t have possibly asked for a better symbol of her newly realized talent.

Rarity had to actively fight to keep herself from squealing in joy. It wouldn’t be proper, after all. She grabbed as many of the gems in her magical grip as she could, and then turned around to carry them back with her, before a sudden realization caused her heart to drop into the pit of her stomach.

She had absolutely no idea how to get back home.

———————

“Hey, Rarity!”

“Mmnh... totally lost...”

“Rarity, wake up!”

“Gaah! No, get away!”Rarity wildly flailed about at the sudden prodding at her chest, and she tipped over the edge of the couch, falling face-first to the floor. She looked up to see her younger sister staring at her with wide eyes, her school saddlebag still hung around her sides.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Rarity replied, standing up onto her hooves. With a glow of her horn, any hairs in her mane that were out of place were put back to their usual position. “Sweetie Belle, what are you doing here?”

“I’m glad you asked!” said Sweetie Belle with a grin. “Diamond Tiara is throwing a party next week, and she invited everypony in school! I was wondering, do you think you could make a dress for the occasion? I even designed it myself and everything!”

“You... designed it yourself?” said Rarity, unable to mask the incredulity in her voice.

“Uh-huh!” said Sweetie Belle. Her horn shimmered, and she reached into her saddlebags to pull out a scrap of paper, giving it over to Rarity. “Here, what do you think?”

Rarity held the paper in her hoof, eying Sweetie Belle’s crude picture of herself drawn in crayon. The dress she was wearing was... well, it was horrible. There was no way around it without lying: clashing colors, nonsensical designs, and no rhyme or reason to the stitches or patterns. It almost hurt her to look at.

“It’s... it’s wonderful, dear,” Rarity said, her mouth twitching as she forced a smile. It was then that she noticed something else aside from the dress, a small band of grey crayon on Sweetie’s horn. “Hmm? Sweetie Belle, what’s that you have on your horn?”

“It’s a silver horn ring!” said Sweetie Belle. “It really brings out my eyes, don’t you think? What do you say, could you make it for me? Pretty please?”

Rarity’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “S-s-s-silver!? N-now, hold on a minute! Are you absolutely certain you don’t want some other kind of ring? Like maybe gold? Platinum? Anything else?”

“What? No!” said Sweetie Belle. “I don’t want to show off, I just want to look fancy! Could you please make the outfit for me? Pleaaassssse?” She stared up at her older sister with puppy-dog eyes, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. It was a trick that she had learned from Rarity several years ago, one that she had frequently made use of on her older sister.

“Oh, alright, fine,” Rarity relented. “I’ll make you your dress, and your ring as well. I’ll have them both ready for you by Monday.”

“Yay!” Sweetie Belle cheered, and wrapped her front hooves around Rarity’s torso in a hug! “Thank you, Rarity! You’re the best!”

“It’s no trouble at all, darling,” Rarity replied, returning the gesture. “Now run along now, I have a lot of work to do if I’m to get this finished by the end of the week.”

“Sure thing!” said Sweetie Belle. “I’ll see you later!”

Rarity waved Sweetie Belle as she happily pranced out the door. When her younger sister was finally out of sight, she slouched over in defeat.

“A silver ring... Just what have I gotten myself into?”

———————

The next four days had gone by in a haze of frightening anticipation. Rarity had worked on plenty of other orders, and she’d remained just as gorgeous in the eyes of the townsponies as ever, but all of it had barely registered through the dread that clouded her mind. Yet even still, she remained as determined as ever to finish the gift for her sister.

When the weekend arrived, she’d set aside all the spare time she had to work on the dress Sweetie Belle had designed. On several occasions she had to stop to retch at the hideous juxtaposition of colors and patterns, and for a moment she even thought of removing her red-rimmed work glasses just so the dress would be harder for her to see. Either way she worked tirelessly to complete the outfit as closely to Sweetie Belle’s design as possible, unable to bear the thought of disappointing the only sibling she’d ever known.

It was Sunday night when the dress was finally completed. Rarity hung it up on a rack next to her working desk, taking a good look at the finished product.

“It’s... not as bad as I thought it would be,” she admitted, rubbing her chin with a hoof. “I just hope her classmates don’t make fun of her for it.” Her horn lit up, and a curtain was lifted over the dress, making sure she didn’t need to see it any more than she needed to.

What came next was the part that she had been dreading all week. Working with precious metals was admittedly not her expertise, but her designs did occasionally call for a touch of gold or platinum, and she had enough basic knowledge of the craft to smith quality accessories in her workshop.

Silver, of course, was another story. She levitated a tiny cardboard box from her side, a custom order of silver wire she had made late Wednesday night, and lifted it towards her desk. Already she could feel the metal held within resisting her magical aura, and she struggled to prevent the box from falling out of her grasp.

With a strained effort, she finally managed to place the box on top of her desk. With an audible gulp she slowly and carefully pulled away the packaging tape, prying the lid of the box open.

“Here goes nothing...” Peering over her desk, Rarity lifted a pair of jewelry-making pliers with her magic, and carefully moved to pinch one of the silver wires between them.

Then, as soon as the precious metal made contact with the pliers, an intense fire shot through her horn. Rarity let out a shriek of agony, her magical grip on the pliers shattering instantly as it clattered onto the surface of the desk.

“Oh sweet merciful Luna’s voice, it burns!” Rarity desperately lifted a hoof up to her horn, gently rubbing it in an attempt to soothe the pain. As the burning within it subsided, she was left feeling utterly bewildered. How could she have been hurt if she didn’t even touch the wire?

Then, as soon as she had asked the question in her mind, the answer came to her. It was so obvious that she almost felt like slapping herself. True silver would refuse to interact with her in every possible manner, including her magic. Her aura was still surrounding the pliers when it made contact with the wire.

“Looks like I have to do this the old fashioned way,” Rarity moaned. She sat up at her desk and reached to grab the pliers in her hooves. Holding it in her grip, she slowly moved to pick up the wire, struggling to keep her forelegs from shaking. Her fearful shivering only intensified when she grabbed the wire in the pliers’ grasp, and every hair on her body stood on end.

“C-careful... careful now...” Rarity moved to bend the wire in the first step towards crafting the ring, a task which proved to be much more difficult by her constant shaking. Unable to control her terrified shuddering, her foreleg suddenly slipped, and the wire was propelled out of the pliers, heading straight towards her torso.

The last thing she felt before blacking out was an overwhelming agony piercing straight into her chest.

———————

It had been hours since she left the cliff where she had discovered her talent, yet exactly how many she couldn’t tell. It must have been almost an entire day, since it was well into the morning when her destiny had forcibly dragged her out into the countryside, and now the sun had already dipped below the horizon.

Her aimless wandering brought her to a tiny dirt road, way out in the middle of nowhere. Rolling hills and green pastures dotted with the occasional tree extended in both directions as far as the eye could see. As the night fell, a dense fog had begun to roll in, obscuring anything beyond a dozen feet in any given direction. No longer able to see the Canterhorn in the distance, she couldn’t even use Canterlot Castle as a landmark to know how close to Ponyville she was.

Her parents must have been so terribly worried. She’d hoped they would be happy to see she’d received her cutie mark, but now they would likely just be happy to see her alive again.

Rarity’s ears swiveled, and a sound made itself clear on the edge of her awareness. It was quiet at first, but it rapidly grew louder by the moment. She turned around to see a stagecoach driven by a pair of massive stallions, just several feet away from her and rapidly approaching.

And then, in an instant, her entire world exploded in pain as she was trampled underhoof.

———————

“Rarity, I’m back!” Sweetie Belle forcefully pushed the door to her older sister’s house open. Rarity had promised her dress would be finished by that day, and she couldn’t have been more excited to see it. She was so excited that hadn’t been able to pay attention in school all day, and even the usual Monday blues couldn’t keep her spirits down.

As soon as she’d entered the house, she immediately noticed something was amiss. The lights were turned off, and Rarity herself was nowhere to be found.

Opalescence suddenly bolted down the stairs and ran towards Sweetie Belle. The white cat stopped just before her and wrapped her paws around Sweetie’s forelegs, meowing loudly and desperately. She almost looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Opal? Is something wrong?”

Opalescence responded by beckoning Sweetie Belle with a gesture of her head and running up the stairs. Sweetie Belle followed suit, hoofs loudly scuffing the floor as she ran after.

“Opal, what’s going on? Is everything—”

Sweetie’s words were cut of by a scream as she burst into her sister’s personal workroom. There, lying on the ground in front of the desk, was Rarity, her eyes glazed over and her body lying limp. A single wire of silver was embedded deep within her chest; the massive amounts of blood that had spilled itself from the wound having long since coagulated into a solid mass.

“Rarity!” Sweetie Belle called out.“Rarity, speak to me!”

Rarity’s body twitched slightly, and an unintelligible gurgle escaped from her throat.

“No! No! This can’t be happening!” Sweetie Belle’s breath became quick and shallow, her heart beating so fast that it threatened to burst out of her chest. “What do I do!? What do I do!?”

Opalescence looked up at Sweetie Belle and mewled at her with pleading eyes.

“Y-you’re right! I have to get help! I’ve gotta find somepony!”

Sweetie Belle sprinted down the stairs and bolted out the doorway, running faster than she’d ever run before.

———————

“Wait, hold up. You two fought a kraken?” Starlight Glimmer stared at Twilight incredulously, and then quietly sipped from her tea cup. The two of them were enjoying a very pleasant afternoon meal together in the throne room, chatting about the many things they’d learned over the past several months.

“That’s right,” Twilight responded, beaming. “And if it hadn’t been for his time magic, I’d have been done for. Honestly, I really don’t understand why he insists on working in secret. The Gatewatch could really use somepony with that kind of power.”

Starlight gave a sheepish grin, and laughed nervously. “Y-yeah, he really is something...”

Twilight eyed her former pupil with concern. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“No, no! It’s nothing at all, really!” Starlight hastily replied. “Is um... there anything else interesting you’ve found on your travels?”

“Oh, lots!” said Twilight. “For example, did you know that on the plane of Kamigawa, there’s a magical divining artifact known as a journeyer’s kite?”

Starlight’s eyes visibly brightened at the mention of the artifact. “Oooh, no! Tell me more!”

Twilight raised a hoof to her mouth, giggling lightly. “I thought you might like to hear about that. The magical theory behind it is actually really fascinating. The way it works is—”

SLAM!

The door to Twilight’s castle exploded open with a startling noise, causing Twilight to nearly jump out of her seat. Beyond the doors was Sweetie Belle, who ran up to Twilight in a blur of white and pastel colors, her eyes watering and laden with panic. She wrapped her forelegs around Twilight’s midsection, using her grip to hold herself upright as she nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

“Twilight... Rarity... H-help...”

“Sweetie Belle?” said Twilight. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Please, you’ve got to help!” said Sweetie Belle. “It’s Rarity! Her life’s in grave danger!”

“WHAT!?” Twilight and Starlight both shouted out in unison.

Sweetie Belle pulled her legs around Twilight even tighter, letting her tears fall freely onto Twilight’s coat. “Please! She’s at her house, and she’s really badly hurt! The hospital’s so far away that she could be dead by the time I get there! I don’t know what else to do! Please help!”

Twilight could feel her head begin to swim. It couldn’t happen. Rarity couldn’t be dying. The very idea of it was unthinkable. With her resolve hardening, she turned to meet her pupil with a steely-eyed gaze.

“Starlight. Get the girls and tell them to meet me at Rarity’s house immediately. And tell them it’s an emergency!”

“Huh? I mean, yes, of course! Right away!” There was a flash of light from Starlight Glimmer’s horn, and when it subsided, she had disappeared. In her panic, she hadn’t even bothered to use the long-distance teleportation technique that Twilight had shown her.

Twilight looked down at Sweetie Belle, who had buried her face into Twilight’s chest, sobbing quietly. “Come on Sweetie, we have to move quickly,” said Twilight.

“R-right,” said Sweetie Belle, pulling herself away. “Come on then, let’s go!”

Exchanging each other one last glance, Twilight and Sweetie Belle ran out the door as fast as their legs could carry them.

———————

It wasn’t long before Starlight Glimmer had returned to Twilight with Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash in tow. They gathered before Rarity in her workroom, surveying the grisly scene. The sight of her body impaled on silver wire had evoked a number of reactions from each of them. Pinkie and Rainbow gaped in horror, Fluttershy covered her eyes with her wings and sobbed in the corner, while Applejack watched silently, looking as though she could break down crying herself at any moment. Twilight had told Sweetie Belle to wait downstairs, and she had been more than willing to do so, unable to bring herself to look at her sister’s injury again.

Starlight Glimmer approached Twilight and looked her straight in the eye, ears folded sharply against her head. “Does... does Spike know about this?”

Twilight shook her head. “No... he’s still out helping a diplomatic meeting between the changelings and the dragons.” In a way she was glad that Spike wasn’t here to see what had happened, it would be utterly devastating to him.

Applejack removed her hat from her head and held it tightly against her chest. “Is there anything you can do to save her?”

“I... I don’t know,” said Twilight. “But I’ll do everything that I can.”

As Twilight approached Rarity’s body, she was forced to hold her breath at the terrible smell of the congealed blood that surrounded her. Her tail whipped itself back and forth, shooing away the flies that had already begun to gather around the decaying bodily fluids.

It was easy enough to see what had injured her: the silver wire had impaled itself straight into Rarity’s chest. Curling her nose as she examined it closer, Twilight noticed that it had looked to burn away the flesh that it had punctured through, yet unlike a true burn it had not caused the wound to become cauterized at all. She also noticed that Rarity’s coat had seemed to lose a its natural sheen: it was much duller, almost grey, no longer the gleaming white it used to be.

Twilight reached into her own memory, calling upon the anatomy textbooks that she’d read as a filly, and recalled the location of the major organs within the body. To her relief, it appeared as though the silver wire had missed Rarity’s heart, and was likely to have punctured her lung instead.

With as much precision as she could possibly muster, Twilight surrounded the wire with her magic, and gently pulled it out of Rarity’s body. To her horror, the blood that covered the end that had driven itself into Rarity had also begun to congeal. If the blood inside of Rarity’s body had started to decay, then that could only mean...

No, it couldn’t. It couldn’t happen. She refused to believe it; the multiverse would never be so cruel. Yet more and more, the truth seemed impossible to avoid.

Twilight turned to face her friends, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. As she spoke, she couldn’t stop her voice from shaking. “Girls, I... I-I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

All at once, the whole room went silent. It was as though the entire world had come to a sudden stop.

Applejack was the first to realize what Twilight had tried to say, but couldn’t bring herself to. “No. Nuh-uh. You’re lying. Ah know you’re lying.”

“Applejack, please...”

“You shut your damn mouth, Twilight!” Twilight’s mouth dropped open in shock; in all her life she didn’t think she’d ever heard any of her friends swear. “Ah don’t know what kind of sick joke you think this is, but it ain’t funny! You really expect me believe that Rarity is... That she’s...” Her body quivered as she struggled to finish the sentence, the coat beneath her eyes already wet and matted from crying.

“Applejack, that’s enough!” Rainbow Dash interjected. “There’s no joke here! In case you didn’t remember, she was our friend too!”

“She ain’t never been just a friend to me!” Applejack shouted back. Her voice quivered in a way that made it clear she was barely holding back a sob. “You don’t understand! None of y’all understand!”

“No, Rainbow Dash is right.” The voice came unexpectedly from the corner. The other ponies turned to see Fluttershy staring at them, wiping off her eyes with a hoof. “We’ve all lost somepony very important to us today. We should be helping each other through our grief, not fighting each other.”

Fluttershy sniffled, only for a pink hoof to reach out and hold a tissue up to her face. She blew her nose into the handkerchief, and Pinkie Pie discarded it into a nearby trash can, her body so limp that it almost sagged as she walked. Twilight noticed that, for the first time in years, Pinkie’s mane had completely lost its curls.

Applejack couldn’t even bring herself to say anything. Twilight reached out and wrapped her front hooves around Applejack, and Applejack returned the gesture, burying her head into Twilight’s shoulders with a mournful wail. The two held their embrace for nearly a full minute, letting the warmth from their bodies melt away the pain that they shared.

As Applejack pulled herself away, she gazed directly into Twilight’s eyes. “Ah... Ah’m sorry for yelling at you like that, Twilight.”

“It’s okay,” Twilight responded, “I understand.” There were no more words that needed to be said. She understood, and that was all that mattered.

“G-gah...” A series of sputtering coughs came from behind the both of them. Twilight and Applejack both turned around to look, and what they saw had shocked them both.

“Rarity! You’re alive!” Applejack exclaimed.

“Whaaat!?” said Twilight. “But... But... How!? Your blood! I-it was—”

“B-blood,” said Rarity, forcing the words out between pained gurgles. “N-need...”

“What?” Applejack hurriedly replied. “What is it? What do you need? Tell me!”

“B-brown paper package... In the... F-fridge...” Her voice was raspy and shallow, only barely able to articulate itself in words.

“Already got it!” said Pinkie Pie, shoving the aforementioned package into Twilight’s hoof, still cold from refrigeration. Somehow, Pinkie’s mane had already gone back to normal.

Twilight stared at Pinkie incredulously. “Wait, where did you—”

“Who cares? Just shut up and give it to her!” said Rainbow.

“Okay, okay!” said Twilight. She carefully grabbed the string in her magical grip and pulled the knot apart, unwrapping the paper and tossing it aside. What she saw was one of the last things she ever expected to see: a single bag of donated blood, intended for intravenous injection, and labeled O positive.

“What!? This is from Ponyville Hospital’s blood bank!” said Twilight. “Why was this in Rarity’s fridge?”

Rarity coughed, and her body violently shuddered. “Will you just let me have it already!?” she shouted.

“Alright, you don’t need to tell me twice!” said Twilight. She levitated the bag over to Rarity, and it was snatched from her magical grasp with incredible force.

Then, to everyone’s horror, Rarity pried open the end of the bag and guzzled from it as though it were a spigot. Miraculously, the gaping hole in her chest where the silver rod had struck her began to repair itself. Within moments, the entire bag was gone; not only had all of her injuries vanished, but her dull coat had been restored to its former luster.

Rarity stood up onto her hooves, and shuddered in what Twilight could only assume was pure ecstasy. “Ohhhhh... that’s good.” All the other ponies couldn’t do anything but gawk in astonishment and horror.

“Oh my,” said Fluttershy

“Did she just...?” said Rainbow Dash.

“I think she did,” said Starlight.

Pinkie gasped. “Oh my gosh, Rarity’s a vampony!”

“Pinkie, don’t be ridiculous!” said Twilight. “There aren’t any true vampires native to this plane. I’m sure there’s a perfectly rational explanation for, uh...” she gestured towards the discarded blood bag on the floor. “...Well, that.”

“Oh... Oh dear,” said Rarity. “Well Twilight, while I’d hate for you to have found out like this, I’m afraid Pinkie Pie is right. I’ve been a vampony ever since I was a young filly.”

“See what I mean? Perfectly rationa—WHAT!?”

Rarity grimaced, and her eyes darted around the room. “Well, then. I suppose I owe you all an explanation, don’t I?”

———————

She couldn’t feel a single part of her body, and yet somehow, Rarity could tell that she was moving. There was no substance to her, no flesh or bones, nothing but pure consciousness rushing towards something incredibly warm and incredibly bright. How she could tell it was either of those things without a body, she didn’t know. Yet despite how disorienting the idea sounded in her mind, the sensation felt oddly comfortable, even downright relaxing.

Then, just as she was about to reach the light, she felt herself being suddenly and forcefully yanked backwards. Her eyes pulled themselves open, and she sat upright with a gasp. Her body, now that she realized she had one again, felt unusually cold. Her bones ached fiercely, and her forehead throbbed with every heartbeat.

As the lingering pain in her body wore off, she looked upwards, and found herself greeted by an unfamiliar earth pony stallion. His coat was a bright yellow-orange, and he had a long, wavy mane of deep red, with a matching pencil-thin moustache and goatee. She peered around his side and saw that his cutie mark was a cross-section of a blood orange, with an elaborate heraldic crown circling the top. His torso was covered by a suit that looked centuries out of date, deep reddish-brown with a large white ruffled cravat. Behind him was a black stagecoach, driven by two massive, identical orange-and-yellow earth ponies.

“Are you okay, potra?” The stallion spoke with a thick Esponish accent. “For a moment I had thought it too late to save you.”

“I... I think so yes,” said Rarity, struggling to her hooves. “Ugh... but I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.”

“That is to be expected, given the circumstances,” the stallion replied. He walked over to his stagecoach and opened the door, reaching inside, grabbing a large wine bottle. “Here, drink this,” he said, passing the bottle to Rarity. “It will help you feel better.”

“Wine?” said Rarity. “You must be joking. I’m not enough even old enough to be going out at this hour unsupervised, much less drink alcohol!”

“I can assure you, it is most certainly not alcoholic,” said the stallion with a smirk. “Now, drink. You will recover much faster.”

“I’ll have you know this is very suspicious,” said Rarity. “But it looks like I don’t have anything better to be doing right now. Bottoms up, I suppose.” She pulled the cork out of the bottle with her magic, and raised it to her lips. To her surprise, the liquid that crossed her tongue wasn’t unpleasant at all. In fact, it was one of the most delicious things she ever tasted; oddly metallic, yet at the same time savory in a way that she couldn’t possibly describe in words. Even more so than the taste, she noticed that an incredibly soothing warmth spread through her entire body with each gulp, like a spa bath from within, only a thousand times better.

When she could no longer hold her breath to continue drinking, she noticed that she had felt better, just as the stallion had said. There was no longer even the slightest hint of the dull ache in her body like there was before.

“Tell me, young one, what is your name?” said the stallion. “And what is a pequeña potra like yourself doing outside at this time of night?”

“My name is Rarity,” she replied. “My destiny brought me far from home, where I found my cutie mark. But now that I’ve discovered my talent, I can’t figure out my way back.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Rarity,” said the stallion, addressing her with a bow. “I am the Excelentísimo Señor Vínculo Sangriento, Duke of Espoña. I am here in Equestria on a diplomatic visit to your Princess Celestia. Drink more, you will need the energy.”

“A-a duke?” Rarity stammered. “Well, I-I suppose it’d be best if I did what you said, then.” At the Duke’s suggestion, she placed the bottle to her lips, and swiftly quaffed the rest of the liquid inside of it in a single motion. Truth be told, she didn’t need the Duke to tell her to do so. It was so delicious that she probably would have done it all on her own. “Oh, goodness, this beverage is wonderful!” said Rarity, finishing the bottle. “What is it?”

The Duke grinned. “Blood.”

Rarity was startled so strongly that she suddenly burst into a violent coughing fit, dropping the wine bottle in the process. “Buh... Buh... Blood? Is this some sort of sick joke? What kind of disgusting pony would you have to be to feed me bluh... Bluh...” Rarity’s words trailed off as she suddenly noticed a small yet striking detail about the Duke’s anatomy that she hadn’t caught onto before.

In the middle of his toothy grin was a pair of sharp, pointed fangs. He was a pony with fangs.

With horror dawning upon her, Rarity opened her mouth, and carefully lifted a hoof to her top row of teeth. She felt a small yet painful prick against her sole as it pierced itself on something sharp.

It wasn’t just the Duke. She had fangs, too. Very long, very pointy fangs.

“What did you do to me?” Rarity yelled, voiced shaking. “What did you do to me!?”

“Easy there, potra,” the Duke replied. “You must understand, I did not have a choice but to turn you into a vampony yourself. By the time I had realized my carriage had hit you, you were already... what’s the word? Oh yes, deceased.”

Rarity’s body froze. “I... I died?”

“Unfortunately so,” said the Duke. “And it would not be right of me to allow you to remain that way, when I am the one responsible for your death. Creating a new vampony is not to be done lightly, you see.”

Rarity turned her eyes away from the Duke, conflicting emotions violently raging inside of her. In a way, she was thankful to still be something that at least resembled living. Yet at the same time, everything about her new existence was frightening, and she didn’t even remotely know what to expect of it.

“But what am I supposed to do now?” said Rarity. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Do not fear, mi pequeña potra,” said the Duke. “I will show you the way of the vampony, and then I will return you to your home. Come with me, let us enjoy the rest of this night.”

The Duke gestured to the stagecoach interior, allowing Rarity to climb inside. He followed suit and sat himself beside her, and the stallions pulling the carriage took off, carrying them deeper into the fog.

———————

“...And that’s what happened,” said Rarity. “When I finally returned to my parents, they couldn’t have been happier to see me. They had no idea that I died that day, and no idea what I had become. It’s a secret that I’ve carried with me my entire... well, not really ‘life.’ It would probably be more accurate to call it undeath.”

“I... I don’t believe it,” said Twilight. “This entire time? An actual vampony?”

“Y-you, um... don’t feed on other ponies, do you?” said Fluttershy.

“Not usually,” said Rarity. “I get my blood from the Ponyville Hospital whenever I can. They’re quite generous with it, you know. Nurse Redheart is a vampony herself, and does her best to provide for others in the area. That said, if there’s a shortage I usually go out in the night and see if I can find somepony to feed on. I don’t take enough to harm them, and I always knock them out first so they aren’t hurt and don’t remember it, but it’s something that I do have to do on occasion.”

Fluttershy gave a tiny gasp. “Oh, no! And Nurse Redheart, too?”

“Personally, I’m a little bit more worried about what happens to these ponies you’re taking blood from,” Starlight chimed in. “Wouldn’t feeding on them turn them into vamponies, too?”

“Of course not, that would be utterly ridiculous,” Rarity countered. “If vampirism were infectious, all of Equestria would have been turned into vamponies hundreds of years ago. Creating one of us is a rare and forbidden ritual known only by the most elder vamponies.”

“Yeah, that’s a good answer and all,” Rainbow Dash interjected. “But isn’t there something much bigger about this that doesn’t make sense?”

“Oh? Like what?” said Fluttershy.

“Oh, I dunno, maybe the sun?” said Rainbow. “How the hay does Rarity survive going out in broad daylight? She’d have to use, like, SPF ten million sunscreen!”

Rarity scoffed. “Honestly, Rainbow, you shouldn’t speak like you know more about this than I do. All you’re doing is repeating shallow stereotypes. Vamponies are perfectly capable of surviving in the sun, all it does is weaken our powers. And since I don’t have many vampony powers to begin with, it doesn’t really make that much of a difference to me.”

“Oooh! Vampony powers!” Pinkie squealed. “Can you turn into a bat? Or a cloud of mist? Do you steal ponies’ souls and make them your slaves?”

Rarity winced. “I’m... a little bit frightened to think where you might have gotten that last idea from. But the others are powers that are only developed by vamponies much older than myself, usually by more than a century. Besides, if I really wanted to turn into a bat, I’d just stand around Twilight until one of her spells inevitably backfired on me.”

“Hey!”

Rarity’s lips curled into a sly grin, revealing a pair of fangs that Twilight had never noticed before, despite having known Rarity for years. “Oh, do relax, dear. I’m only joking. The only real power I have is a subtle glamour that makes me appear more captivating in the eyes of others, and disguises some of my more obvious vampiric traits. And since I’m not particularly old or powerful, even the captivating part only works if I already look fabulous to begin with.” She finished her sentence by brushing her mane with a hoof, letting it be swept slightly by a draft coming from the door.

Twilight rolled her eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the joke at her expense, or because Rarity wouldn’t even let being mortally wounded stop her from boasting about her appearance. “Yeah, alright. I guess that makes sense. But what about food? In all the legends I’ve read, vamponies could only drink blood. But I’ve seen you eating normal food plenty of times!”

“And who’s to say I can’t eat like any other pony?” Rarity replied. “Vamponies can enjoy plenty of things other than blood, the only difference is that we don’t gain any energy or nutrition from it.”

Pinkie gasped. “What!? That’s awful! How can you possibly enjoy eating sweets if you don’t get a sugar rush out of it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s all that bad,” said Rarity. “Whenever I’m feeling down, I can eat as much sugar as I want and never get fat. Quite the perk, if I say so myself.”

“Wait,” said Pinkie, “sugar makes you fat?”

“Well, sugar ain’t much of a concern for me, but Ah’m wondering how that so-called glamour of yours can disguise your vampony appearance given how many mirrors you have.” Applejack gave Rarity a warm smile. “Though just for the record, Ah don’t rightly think you need some fancy magic to make yourself look good.”

A light blush appearing on Rarity muzzle. “Well, I’m certainly glad you think so, darling. But that’s actually not quite how mirrors work for vamponies. The reason we didn’t show up in mirrors and photographs in the past is that they used to be made with silver. Now that they’re made with much cheaper materials, I don’t have much reason to fear being exposed in that manner. At the very worst I just have to be careful when I’m around the more antique mirrors.”

Twilight thoughtfully placed a hoof to her chin. “Silver... is that how you ended up hurting yourself? Because you were working with silver?”

Rarity slumped, lowering her head to the ground. “Yes... Yes, it is. Silver is the absolute deadliest thing that any vampony could encounter, much less a juvenile vampony like myself. It refuses to interact with any aspect of our existence, including our magic and our reflections. Even the slightest touch cuts through our flesh like warm butter.” She let out a heavy sigh. “If that wire had come a mere inch closer to my heart, I would have died. There’s no question of that. I was a fool to even consider working with something so dangerous.”

“But why?” said Applejack. “Why would you do that? Why would you try making something out a material that could kill you at any moment?”

“...Because I asked her to.”

Startled, Twilight turned around and saw Sweetie Belle in the doorway to Rarity’s workroom. She stood as limply as possible as it was for her to stand while remaining upright, staring down at the wooden floor.

Rarity gaped. “Sweetie Belle! What are you doing here? How much have you heard!?”

“As much I needed to know,” Sweetie replied. She looked up and gazed at Rarity with tear-soaked eyes, then rushed over and wrapped her forelegs around Rarity’s torso. “I-It’s all my fault!” she sobbed, burying her face into her sister’s coat. “I never should have begged you for that stupid dress!”

“What? Sweetie, you know that isn’t true!”

Sweetie Belle turned her head upwards and stared Rarity right in the eyes. “Why!? Why did you have to listen to me? Why did you have to give me what I asked? You nearly died, and it’s all because of me!”

Rarity reached down with her own forelegs, and pulled Sweetie Belle into a tight embrace, allowing her younger sister to cry onto her shoulder. “It’s alright. Everything’s okay now. I promise I won’t ever leave you.”

Sweetie Belle hiccuped as the last of her sobs slowly dissolved into a steady breathing pattern. “...Promise?”

“I promise,” said Rarity. “But I also need you to promise me that you won’t tell a single soul about my secret.”

“...Yeah, I promise,” said Sweetie Belle.

As Sweetie Belle pulled away, Rarity glanced over at all of her gathered friends. “That goes for all of you, too. There is a good reason vamponies don’t generally reveal themselves: not everypony else is as tolerant of us as you are. Given that I’m a very public figure, it is paramount to my own safety that my vampirism be kept hidden wherever possible.”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly!” said Pinkie. “I won’t spill your secret, and I won’t let any of us spill it either! Mark my words!”

Twilight smiled nervously. “Well, now I know we won’t have a choice but to keep it secret. I’m just glad everything worked out okay.”

“As am I,” said Rarity. She looked around the room, glancing at the mess that had been created by her near-death experience. “Now Sweetie Belle, would you mind picking up all the silver wires and throwing them away? After I clean up, I believe I have a platinum horn ring to make for you.”

Sweetie Belle gave her older sister a smile. “Thanks, Rarity. I think I’d like that.”

———————

Rarity, Gem Weaver1URB

Legendary Creature — Unicorn Vampire

UR, T: Target opponent gains control of target permanent you control.

At the beginning of your upkeep, each opponent loses X life, where X is the number of permanents you own that your opponents control. You gain life equal to half the life lost this way, rounded up.

”Be careful with that jewelry, darling. It’s quite sharp.”

2/4

Author's Note

Welp, this should be the final proof that I'm addicted to writing. My Little Planeswalker was meant to be a smaller side-project to give me something to do when I'm not writing my larger works, and I had so many ideas for it that I couldn't fit them all in my original story. So now I'm writing a side-story series to a side-project. Help. :twilightoops:

...Anyway though, this was an idea I had after a comment on an earlier blog post I made. This chapter takes place after the ending of the main My Little Planeswalker story, which as of this Author's Note hasn't been written yet, so the references to what happened in the main story are kept as vague as possible. Nevertheless, there's some subtle and not-so-subtle foreshadowing of what you'll see in the future relative to the time this paragraph was written in. :trollestia:

Rarity as Grixis colors might seem odd to some, since Grixis is typically portrayed as overwhelmingly manipulative, tyrannical, and cruel. This bad reputation is no doubt not helped by the fact that the color combination's most prominent representative is Nicol Bolas himself.

That being said, Grixis isn't necessarily malevolent, just like any color or color combination in Magic, and it fits Rarity very well. Unlike standard Grixis creatures, Rarity's primary color isn't black, but rather an equal combination of blue/red, which is reflected in her mana cost having an alternate color order. Red represents Rarity's passion and creative impulse, while blue represents her meticulousness and obsessive perfectionism. Red and blue taken together is best described as the phrase "organized chaos," as Rarity herself would put it. Mechanically, Red and Blue are also the two colors most associated with donate-esque effects that involve giving your own permanents to your opponent, fitting with her being the Element of Generosity.

So where does black come in? Well, despite her element, Rarity is well-known for having a streak of vanity and greed, a character flaw which is often the central focus of her individual episodes. However, black doesn't only represent her negative traits: it also represents her general ambition, and her desire to build a fashion empire for herself is very black in nature.

Golden Sun's Zenith, Part 1

“Thank you for your time, Duke Sangriento. I will inform the the Royal Congress of our agreement, and request they lower the tariffs on Esponish blood oranges.”

“You have my thanks, Su Alteza. And do say hello to the Bearer of Generosity for me, will you?”

“I’ll be sure to send her my regards.”

Celestia flashed the Duke of Espoña a smile as he turned away, leaving the throne room with one final bow. The guards that normally attended to her meetings were absent; the Duke’s secret was one that she had made sure not to reveal while others were present, though she suspected Vínculo would simply make them forget if they did find out. She didn’t know the full extent of the reclusive lord’s abilities, but memory charms were probably one of the reasons he could hide his existence from his own subjects for more than a millennium.

It was already late into the afternoon by the time the meeting concluded, but there was still one left to take care of before the end of the day. The amount of time between her final meetings and her daily lowering of the sun was short, but she always relished every opportunity she had to relax. That would still have to wait, though. She was looking forward to the last meeting of the day: the letter she’d received requesting an audience made some truly fascinating claims, not the least of which was the true identity of its writer. For that reason, Celestia had also requested that the guards be absent for the meeting’s duration.

The doors to the throne room swung open, and the royal guards stationed outside motioned the visitor inwards, remaining outside as the entrance closed behind her. She was pegasus pony wearing a very conspicuous purple robe, a grey bucket hat, red-rimmed glasses, and a mane that appeared to be fake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Miss Yearling,” Celestia greeted. “But I suppose that’s not your real name, is it?”

The self-proclaimed writer didn’t show any amusement at the remark. With a single motion, she removed her outer layer of clothes, revealing her true identity. She was a spitting image of the pony depicted on the covers of the Daring Do adventure novels: tan coat, black mane, muted green jacket, pith helmet, and compass rose cutie mark.

“So it really is you,” Celestia mused. “I must congratulate you on being able to keep such a secret from me for so long.”

“You could’ve just asked Rainbow Dash if you didn’t believe me,” said Daring Do. “Trust me, you’d never hear the end of it from her.”

“I would imagine not,” said Celestia. “But I don’t believe that’s important right now. You said something about exploring the Western Continent in your letter. I take it this is what you wished to discuss with me?”

“That’s right, Your Highness,” Daring Do replied. “During my expeditions, I found that the continent was ruled the Cuetzpali Empire, a nation of feathered lizardfolk. All of the other beastfolk tribes on the Western Continent have been conquered by them, and everything I’ve seen suggests that the Empire are a fearsome military force, probably the most powerful military in the world. But what worries me the most is that they might soon learn of Equestria’s existence.”

Celestia’s expression didn’t change very much, but a powerful anxiety began squirming its way into her chest. Equestria, despite its importance, had repeatedly proven ill-prepared for war. “And you’re worried they might choose us for their next conquest?”

“Its too early to tell,” said Daring Do. “But they’ve become increasingly aware that there’s something to the east of them. One of the Storm King’s old airships has been repeatedly seen landing outside their capital city of Atlazan, the most recent landing being last month. I believe it belongs to the former Commander Tempest. If this is true, she may have inadvertently alerted the cuetzpali to the existence of the Equus continent.”

Now that was even more worrying. A crease formed on Celestia’s brow as her lips curved into a frown. “And do you believe Tempest is allying with the Cuetzpali Empire in an attempt to strike back at us?” It was unlikely, given her apparent redemption, but Celestia didn’t want to discount the possibility.

Daring Do shook her head. “I don’t think so. All I heard were rumors that a four-legged creature with a broken horn had been meeting with a monster in Atlazan’s slums. The cuetzpali I met didn’t suspect I was a pony like her, since I don’t have a horn. But they did know her ship came from the east, and those rumors are starting to spread. At this rate, it won’t be long before they reach the Empire’s leaders. It’s practically inevitable that they’ll discover us soon.”

“I see.” Celestia briefly closed her eyes as she reviewed the situation. In her many centuries of living, she’d seen Equestria establish contact with several other nations, but the Cuetzpali Empire were unique. Unlike other lands, the Western Continent was a total mystery to the rest of the world, often believed by ponies to be nothing more than a fantasy. Yet it was there, and its nation could prove to be a massive and powerful threat.

“Uh, is something wrong, Princess?”

Celestia opened her eyes, feeling her resolve harden within her. “No, Daring. I was simply considering my options. Given the circumstance, I believe I’ll be paying the Cuetzpali Empire a diplomatic visit myself.”

“I thought you might say that,” Daring Do replied. A frown crossed her muzzle. “But I’m just afraid it’ll end up backfiring on us. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“If they are truly as close to discovering us as you say, we may not have a choice,” said Celestia. “It’s best that we establish contact with them on our own terms. Leaving a good first impression will make it much easier to establish peace in the future.”

“As much as I trust your judgment on diplomacy, Princess, I do hope you know what you’re doing,” said Daring Do. “It could end very badly for us if we offended them.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be going in completely blind,” Celestia replied. Her lips curved upwards into a subtle smirk. “I’ll be asking you to join me for the trip, after all.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” said Daring Do. Celestia waited eagerly for the moment where her brain would catch up with her hearing. “Wait, what!? No offense, Princess, but that’s crazy! Defeating bad guys and finding priceless artifacts is one thing, but helping you speak behalf of all of Equestria? I don’t think I could do something like that!”

“I understand your hesitation, Daring Do, but you are the easily the pony most suited to the task,” Celestia replied. “The only other pony known to have visited the Western Continent is Tempest, and she is currently hiding away in parts unknown. You will not be required to join me, but I would certainly very much appreciate your help. You know far more about this Empire than I do, after all.”

Daring Do let out a short sigh. “No, you’re right. It’s probably for the best I don’t let you travel there without guidance. I’ll just need to let my publisher know that I’ll be away. When can I expect to join you?”

“I’d have to look at my own schedule, but I anticipate it will be some time within the next three weeks,” said Celestia. “In the meantime, I’ll be sure to stay in touch through correspondence.”

“I’ll keep any eye out for any messages,” said Daring Do. “Anything else you need me to know, Princess?”

“That would be all, I believe,” said Celestia. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Daring Do. I look forward to seeing you during our expedition.”

“Likewise,” Daring Do replied. “I’ll see you again soon.” She gave Celestia a little bow, before turning to grab her pile of discarded clothes in the corner. Donning her disguise once more, she quietly exited through the door.

A deep frown formed across Celestia’s face as her guest made her exit, deeper than anything she’d shown during the meeting. No matter what would come of the trip, Equestria’s foreign relations were about to get a lot more complicated.

————————

Daring Do, Relic Seeker 3WU

Legendary Creature — Pegasus Scout

Flying

When Daring Do deals combat damage to a player, reveal the top three cards of your library. You may put an artifact card from among them into your hand. If you do, you gain life equal to its converted mana cost. Put the rest on the bottom of your library in any order.

2/2

————————

Almost four weeks had passed before Celestia had managed to work out her busy schedule enough to arrange the trip. On some level she felt she should have known it would take longer than she expected, but Daring Do had proven to be remarkably patient throughout the process. When everything was finally set up, it was already well into the evening, and she was already at work on the balcony lowering the sun.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, she turned to see Luna standing beside her, her horn glowing with a gentle light as the moon raised itself into the sky.

“Now, Luna, are you sure you’ll be alright raising the sun? It may be days before I return.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Sister, you’ve been helping me practice for two weeks. I believe I can handle it myself.”

“If that’s what you truly believe, then I’ll trust you,” Celestia replied. “But if you ever find yourself too burned out, don’t hesitate to use the summoning spell I gave you. It will instantly teleport me to your location no matter what part of the world I’m in.”

“I’ll be fine, Tia.”

Celestia smiled lightly. The restless tone in Luna’s voice reminded her of the arguments they’d both shared in their youth. Yet despite the apparent immaturity, she’d trusted Luna would be able to take care of things. That trust was what held them both together, and she’d learned the hard way that losing it would only hurt them both.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to take care of things. I’ll see you soon, Luna.”

Luna returned Celestia’s smile. “Farewell, sister. I wish you good luck on your expedition.”

Celestia exited the balcony, and quietly made her way through the corridors of the castle. The bat-winged Night Guards stationed for the evening each gave her a salute as she passed, though Lieutenant Echo, Luna’s most trusted guard, had to be nudged in the side by another thestral to remind her the proper guard protocol.

Eventually, her path led her to the airship docks. They were a series of large platforms on the side of the castle, hanging over the edge of the Canterhorn, with numerous sturdy posts attached to the platform edges, which the airships would use for mooring. Normally the docks were used only for visitors’ ships, as Celestia was more than capable of traveling where she needed through other means, but an airship had been commissioned for her specifically for the expedition. Now, it was securely tied onto the docks by a large rope.

The airship was a large dirigible, with a passenger body composed of several decks, painted with off-white and purple highlights that complimented the brass metals in its hull. A pair of fish-like blue fins extended from the lower part of its body, and the balloon was an odd shape of blues and purples within a brass frame. Extending from the bottom of the balloon were a multitude of horn-shaped... speakers?

Come to think of it, the airship looked like a repurposed cruise liner. She’d have to have a word with her transportation minister about that.

Regardless, a line of guards, ship crew, and other staff were already making their up the ramp and onto the ship. She’d kept the amount of personnel aboard small, limited only to her most trusted staff, so as to ensure no one would share knowledge of the Cuetzpali Empire before she was ready to announce it to the public. At the end of the line, Celestia could find her chosen ambassador her very thick set of clothes making her stand out like a sore thumb.

“Glad you could make it,” said the disguised Daring Do. “I was beginning to worry this trip wouldn’t happen.”

“Well, I am a very busy mare, as you can imagine,” said Celestia.

“Relax, Princess, I’m only joking,” said Daring Do. “So, uh, is it safe for me to remove my disguise? I don’t want anyone here spilling the beans about me.”

“Everyone I’ve brought on this trip is sworn to keep everything they see here a secret,” Celestia replied. “And just to be clear, that also includes you. I know you may be tempted to write of this in your latest book.”

“Relax, I said that won’t be a problem,” said Daring Do. “What about the pilot, though? I’m pretty sure he’s under contract, not working directly for you.”

Celestia blinked. The pilot. It occurred to her that she didn’t know who the pilot was, only that she approved the contract he had signed. “That, ah... shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve read the contract several times, and the penalties for violating the confidentiality agreement are very strict.”

A very uncomfortable frown crossed Daring Do’s face for a moment, only for it to pass. She gave a shrug. “Eh, it shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t really know why I’m so worried. From what I’ve heard he’s a pony of his word... well, not a pony, I guess.“

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Not a pony?”

“You’ll see what I mean. Let’s head in for now, I want to get some sleep on the ship before we arrive.” Daring Do threw off her disguise, and tossed it to one of the two pegasus guards waiting by the side of the ramp. The clothes hit the guard in the face with an inelegant thwap, prompting a giggle from Celestia as Daring Do walked up the ramp.

“Sorry about that. I’ll hold onto these.” Celestia grabbed the disguise in her telekinetic grip, and carried it with her up the ramp, leaving the bewildered guard to shake his head. The guard joined his partner as the last to head up the ramp, and as they made their way on to the main deck, the ramp began to fold up. A unicorn guard untied the rope from its mooring with his telekinesis and brought it back aboard the ship.

Just as Celestia joined Daring Do and the other ponies on the deck, her attention was immediately drawn to a large, bipedal figure standing near the front of the ship. Judging by his captain’s hat, necktie, and headset microphone, he was almost certainly the pilot Daring Do had mentioned.

“Welcome, loyal passengers!” the minotaur’s voice bellowed, amplified by the multitude of loudspeakers attached to the ship, “to Iron Will’s Especially Exclusive Exploration Expedition Tour! Allow Iron Will to introduce you to your captain, Iron Will!”

Celestia had to fight the urge to facehoof. She was definitely going to have to have a word with her transportation minister.

Through the noise-induced headache she was rapidly developing, she failed to notice a blue-furred, prehensile tail moving in the corner of her eye.

————————

Reaching the Western Continent had taken more than a day, and judging by the sun’s motion, Luna had managed to keep the solar cycle moving without a problem. What was truly fascinating, however, was the way the sun continued to move after they had passed the horizon as seen from Equestria. As soon as the sun went over the western hemisphere, Celestia could feel it becoming shrouded in a magic foreign to her thaumatic senses. It was a magic that was almost identical to her own, yet there was something different to it. Something like her, yet distinctly artificial, an artifice that she’d recognized during her studies under Star Swirl.

Could it be... alchemy?

Any curiosity Celestia felt at the sensation was rapidly overtaken by worry. If the Cuetzpali Empire had influence over the sun, that could bring them not only into conflict with Equestria, but with her on a personal level. She would have to exercise extreme caution when the meeting came.

She’d spent most of the time on the airship reviewing the plan for the initial meeting. Philomena, her faithful pet, had been brought alongside her belongings into her room by the airship crew, and she would be instrumental to establishing first contact. While there was no indication that phoenixes existed anywhere on the Western Continent, Daring Do had said that the cuetzpali held birds of all kinds in sacred regard, seeing them as kindred beings. That meant Philomena was the perfect means to deliver a message of their arrival.

As they flew deeper into the Western Continent’s thick jungles, Celestia stood out on the edge of the central deck, observing the landscape through a pair of binoculars as they soared above. She could see the capital of Atlazan in the distance, a magnificent city of stone buildings and silver spires, lined with a complex grid of streets, aqueducts, and canals. In the city’s far end was a truly gargantuan stepped pyramid, lined with silver and tipped with gold at the top. A short distance away from the pyramid was an elaborate palace structure, less ornately decorated but just as massive.

According to Daring Do, the palace was the home of the Emperor, Quetzalcoatl, while the pyramid was home to an artifact known as the Golden Sun. What the Golden Sun’s purpose was, Daring Do couldn’t say exactly, as the cuetzpali were extremely reluctant to share such information with a foreigner. Yet from the magic that continued to surround the sun on its path, Celestia could make an educated guess what it was.

That, however, was a concern she would save for later. In preparation of the visit, Celestia had brought Philomena out of her cage. She stood perched on the edge of the guardrail, extending out a talon as Celestia passed her a scroll, containing a message that would inform Emperor Quetzalcoatl of their arrival in advance. Philomena gave a happy noise as she grabbed the letter, and then flew into the distance, towards the city.

Thirty minutes passed before Philomena returned, perching back on the guardrail. By then, they were already nearly at the city outskirts. As the finally touched down on the ground, Celestia motioned to a guard carrying Philomena’s cage. Philomena glared at Celestia, and let out an irritated chirp.

“Oh, alright, fine. You can stay outside. But don’t stray far from the ship, I don’t want you getting lost.”

Philomena nodded eagerly. Celestia turned around, joining about a dozen guards as her escort party. As the ship touched down, Daring Do arrived from her quarters. Around her neck was a golden amulet with a rounded ruby in the center. Grasped within the pinions of her wing was a second, identical amulet.

“Here, take this” said Daring Do, passing the amulet to Celestia. “It’ll make things easier.”

Celestia lifted the item with her telekinesis, pulling it close to observe it. The amulet was engraved with a fine network of runes that seemed to shift ever so slightly beneath her gaze. The artifact was definitely magical, there was no doubt about that. “What is it?”

“An amulet of telepathy,” said Daring Do. “Touch the gem in the center, and you’ll be able to transmit mental messages to whoever’s wearing the matching amulet. It will allow us to communicate without allowing anyone to overhear us.”

Celestia grinned. “A wise decision, no doubt. You are quite resourceful, Daring.” She slipped the amulet around her neck, and gently pressed on the central gemstone. Does this work?

Daring Do pressed the gem on her own amulet in response. Sure does. Ready to go?

“That I am,” Celestia said aloud. The bewildered looks she received from the guards brought a smirk to her face. “Alright, everypony, you have your orders. You are all to let Daring Do and I do the talking unless otherwise specified. It is of utmost importance that we remain careful what words the cuetzpali hear. Is that clear?”

The guards all nodded in unison, not even uttering a word.

“Good,” said Celestia. “Now then, let us—”

“Hold it! Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

Celestia groaned inwardly. She turned her head around to see Iron Will standing standing tall on the deck.

“You’ll be staying here,” said Celestia. “This mission is only for myself and those I trust most.”

“Iron Will’s afraid you don’t have a choice, Princess,” Iron Will countered. He reached out and pulled out a stack of papers from somewhere Celestia couldn’t identify. He raised it up, displaying it to the ponies gathered before him. “It’s all right here in the contract.”

“I would recommend against trying to fool me, Iron Will,” Celestia chided. “I made sure to read your contract multiple times, including all of the fine print. Do you mean to suggest you know more about Equestrian law than the highest authority in all of Equestria?”

Iron Will grinned triumphantly. “Ah, but you didn’t read the fine print between the fine print. It says right here, ‘Iron Will is to personally accompany Princess Celestia by her side whenever she leaves the ship, for the duration of Iron Will’s Especially Exclusive Exploration Expedition Tour.’ Take a look for yourself.”

Iron Will reached out again, this time pulling out a very large magnifying glass, with three different lenses stacked on top of each other. Celestia stepped forward and took a look through the glass. Sure enough, nestled in between the smallest letters visible to the naked eye, was a message written in nearly-microscopic print, saying exactly the thing Iron Will had just described.

Celestia’s jaw went slack. “Well I’ll be. So it does.”

“You bet your silky-smooth mane it does. And if Iron Will remembers his high school civics class, even the Princess of the Sun isn’t above the law! That means Iron Will’s coming along for the ride!”

Celestia gritted her teeth and inhaled deeply, feeling the stress building up inside her chest cavity so much that it felt like she would lose her agelessness. It was times like this that she almost regretted establishing rule of law. Almost.

A sharp breath escaped Celestia’s mouth. “Alright, fine,” she said. “But you had better not cause any trouble.”

The sunlight shined off of Iron Will’s obnoxiously perfect teeth. “No guarantees.”

At a guard’s pull of a lever, the ramp descended from the deck, onto the ground below. The airship had landed in the midst of a large clearing just outside of Atlazan’s front entrance. It was the only location near the city where an aircraft could land, given the dense vegetation in all directions. Celestia led the group of ponies, as well as the one minotaur, off the ramp. As they approached the city, they were greeted by a party of cuetzpali soldiers who had anticipated their presence.

True to Daring Do’s tales, the cuetzpali were tall, bipedal lizardfolk, with reddish-brown scales, long spiked tails, and brightly-colored feathers on their heads and arms. Each of the soldiers wore a suit of gleaming silver armor, each piece of plate mail thrumming with the gentle pulse of alchemical magic. Their helmets were thin and open-faced, each one with a gemstone on the forehead that matched the color of its owner’s feathers: some red, some white. Each cuetzpali carried in their right hand a long spear with a leaf-shaped head, and a pair of bars just between the shaft and the blade. The weapons each pulsed with incredibly powerful alchemical magic, far surpassing the work of any known alchemy in Equestria, and the result was that each spear’s head glowed brightly with an aura that matched the color of its wielder’s feathers and gem. The guards all looked distinctly agitated at the sight of the weapons, and Celestia herself couldn’t help but fear for them.

At the front of the party of soldiers was a larger cuetzpali with a massive scar over their left eye, and a much more ornate set of armor decorated with gold highlights. Their helmet was the only one that bore two gems on the forehead instead of one: a red gem on the left, and a white gem on the right. Their feathers, unlike the others, also sported two colors, equal parts red and white. Though they carried no weapons to speak of, their claws were much longer and sharper than any of the others.

“You must be Princess Celestia,” said the cuetzpali. Her voice was unmistakably female, but Celestia couldn’t have known just by looking at her. “We had received word of your arrival from your messenger. I must say, in all my life I have never seen such a magnificent bird. You must truly be blessed by the gods to earn the favor of such a divine creature.”

“Why thank you,” said Celestia, giving a short bow. “Philomena has been by my side for much of my life. And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

The cuetzpali officer returned the bow. “I am General Ihhuitl, leader of the Sky Knights, and serving member of the Council of Elements.”

Celestia tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling in her gut. The first one they sent was not a politician, but a military leader. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, General. If you don’t mind, may I ask what this Council of Elements is? I’ll admit, I am still unfamiliar with your customs.”

Ihhuitl bared her teeth. She seemed like she was smiling, but the rows of sharp, carnivorous fangs looked much more threatening than anything else. “I am more than happy to teach you the ways of our mighty Empire. Each of the three branches of our military represents one of the elements of alchemy, the foundation of our prosperity. As I have said, my soldiers are the Sky Knights, riders of the great pterodons, and followers of the element of air. Then there is General Xochitli, who embodies the earth along with his Verdant Soldiers, riders of the ceratops. Finally, there is General Tecoli. She is the leader of the Flame Dragoons, who ride on fearsome carnosaurs and embody the element of fire. Together, we three form the Council of Elements, the closest advisors to Emperor Quetzalcoatl himself.”

It had taken less than a second for Celestia to review the new information in her mind. First, there was the fact that dinosaurs were not extinct on the Western Continent. She’d heard Daring Do mention it in passing, now that she thought about it, but her mind was so heavy on matters of diplomacy that she hadn’t paid attention. Secondly, Ihhuitl had mentioned alchemy, which confirmed her suspicions. The Cuetzpali Empire were masters of the art of alchemy, to the point where it matched, or even possibly surpassed, Equestrian magic. Finally, and most worryingly, their highest levels of government seemed to be structured entirely around their military.

Though she’d come to understand all of this in only a moment, Celestia didn’t get a chance to speak again. It was Iron Will who suddenly cut in.

“And what about water?”

Ihhuitl’s smile abruptly disappeared. “I beg your pardon?”

“What about water?” Iron Will repeated. “Last Iron Will remembered, there were four elements used in alchemy. Earth, fire, wind, and water. So who’s the fourth member of the council?”

A brief yet deadly silence hung over the clearing. The cuetzpali soldiers almost immediately reacted to Iron Will’s question with hostility. There was a clattering sound distinct to the sudden motion of armor plates, and the cuetzpali shifting their grips on their weapons, holding them in both hands in a fighting stance. Celestia felt her heart skip a beat, and she looked back to see that all the other ponies were terrified. Even Daring Do wasn’t quite able to hide the fear in her wide, vulnerable eyes.

Ihhuitl held out an arm to her side, turning a palm towards the soldiers behind her. “At ease. Their ignorance is not a threat to us.“

“What?” said Iron Will, “did Iron Will say something wrong?”

Celestia shot Iron Will a fierce glare. “Iron Will needs to leave the diplomacy to those who actually know what they’re doing.” She turned to face Ihhuitl, not even bothering to stop herself from cringing. “I am deeply, deeply sorry for any offense he might have caused you.”

“You need not apologize,” said Ihhuitl. “There was indeed a time when there was a fourth branch of our military, the River Guardians, as well as a fourth member of the Council of Elements. The River Guardians were perhaps the fiercest warriors of all, but one day their leader grew jealous, and tried to overthrow the Emperor. For his treachery, he was sentenced to exile in the Unknown East, and the River Guardians forced to disband. In this day, it is a crime simply to speak his name.” Ihhuitl gave a smile, though this time it was much more recognizable as such, despite her apparent lack of lips. “But enough dwelling on the past. Come, let us introduce you to our city.”

Ihhuitl turned around, motioning for the others to follow. Her soldiers spread out and surrounded Celestia, her guards, and Daring Do on all sides as they were brought forward to Atlazan’s front gates, and led into the city walls. As they walked through the streets, Celestia took in the sights of the massive stone structures, but as impressive as they were, it was all tinged with a faint sense of unease. As they ventured further into the city, Celestia heard Daring Do’s voice speaking directly into her mind.

So, uh... aren’t you a bit worried?

Celestia tapped the amulet’s jewel with a hoof, transmitting a message back. Thankfully, she’d had enough practice to be able to walk on only three legs. Of course. They are no doubt exactly as militaristic as you described. Quite concerning, as Equestria does not currently have a standing army.

Not that, Daring Do replied. I mean the fourth general. They said they exiled him to the east, which would mean he ended up on the Equus continent, possibly in Equestria itself. Do you think...?

Do I think what?

No, never mind, Daring Do replied. I was just thinking something crazy for a moment. We have more important things to worry about now.

Celestia’s head tilted slightly at that comment. She was curious what Daring Do was thinking, but decided that the matter was better off dropped for now.

“Auntie Ihhuitl! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

All of the cuetzpali soldiers stopped in their tracks, an act which abruptly brought their Equestrian guests to a halt. Celestia very nearly slammed into Ihhuitl’s backside, and Iron Will actually did end up slamming into her backside, much to her annoyance.

When she finally regained her bearings, another cuetzpali had pushed her way into the crowd of soldiers. Though her voice was easily identifiable as female, her appearance was the first of her kind Celestia had seen that was visibly feminine. It was subtle, simply a matter of mannerisms and gentle curves of the face, but it was there. She wore armor much like a soldier, but she looked to be extremely young, no more than an adolescent. The mere thought of a child soldier brought a sickness to the deepest Celestia’s mind and soul, but on second appearance it looked that she was far more than that. Her armor was of the more ornate variety, similar to Ihhuitl, but the two gems that adorned her forehead were a different color: a vibrant red and green. Her feathers matched the gem colors, as usual, but the feathers extending from the back of her head were far longer than normal, nearly midway down her back. Held in a scabbard by her side was a sword pulsing with powerful alchemical magic, and strapped to her back was a wooden bow and quiver filled with arrows.

The new arrival quickly ran up to Ihhuitl and gave a little pout, a feat made all the more impressive by the fact that she didn’t have lips. “Just what took you so long, huh?”

“Tecoli,” said Ihhuitl. “I thought I’d told you to stay in the palace until we arrive.”

“I was, but you were taking forever!” said Tecoli. “The Emperor’s getting impatient! You know how he is! Grandpa’s stories won’t be able to keep him entertained forever!”

“Xochitli is supposed to be preparing a welcome feast for our guests, not spinning another yarn about his old conquests,” Ihhuitl replied. “And you were supposed to be keeping the Emperor busy until I brought the guests over.”

“Aww, but he’s so weird!” Tecoli whined. “Why do I always have to be the one spending time with that crazy old serpent?”

All of Ihhuitl’s soldiers seized up, each looking like they’d suddenly and forcefully been dunked into a giant tub of ice water. One that also happened to be full of sharks.

“Tecoli!” Ihhuitl scolded. “What have I told you about speaking of the Emperor that way?”

“I know, I know, I’m not supposed to do it,” said Tecoli. “But who cares? Have you found our visitors yet? I can’t wait to—oh my gosh!”

The next thing Celestia knew, she was suddenly being pulled into a tight hug, a pair of feathery, scaled arms powerfully wrapping around her torso. A tiny spark of panic ignited in the back of her awareness, a part of her well beneath her rational mind. A part of her that recognized that the thing holding her was a predator, and that she was prey. Thankfully, centuries of practice had taught her how to snuff that spark out before it brought her to irrational actions, but it still left her feeling rattled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s adorable! Can I keep it, Auntie Ihhuitl? Please?”

“By the gods, Tecoli!” Ihhuitl cried out in exasperation. “She is not a mere animal! She is the ruler of a sovereign nation, and our honored guest!”

“Huh?” Tecoli pulled away, and looked Celestia right in the eye. Her reptilian eyes were a brilliant emerald green, and they carried in them a nearly boundless youthful exuberance. “Wait, you’re Princess Celestia?”

Celestia couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “That I am,” she said. In a way, Tecoli reminded her of Sunset Shimmer in her youth. That memory turned bittersweet nearly as soon as Celestia recalled it, but she dared not show it.

“Whoa! You can talk!?” Tecoli exclaimed. “But you look like one of the ceratops that Grandpa Xochitli rides! Only softer, I guess. And hairier. And shorter. And you only have one horn.” Tecoli paused, a blank look momentarily appearing on her face. “Okay, I guess maybe you’re not like a ceratops.”

“Indeed, I can talk. In fact, you’ll find I have quite a few things to say,” Celestia teased. “You would be General Tecoli, I presume?”

“Yup, that’s me!” Tecoli proudly pointed to herself with a thumb, a gesture which Celestia had only recognized thanks to extensive time spent interacting with creatures that had opposable digits. “Leader of the Flame Dragoons, and tamer of the almighty carnosaur! You ever seen a carnosaur before? They’re kind of like us, only bigger, and dumber, and way, way meaner. Look at one the wrong way and they’ll eat you for lunch! Rawr!”

Tecoli suddenly lunged forward, baring her teeth and claws in a feint that vaguely mimicked a pouncing motion. Celestia gave a startled yelp and jumped back at the sudden motion, prompting a similar response from her guards. For all the effort she’d put into an unflappable appearance, few things could stem the primal fear of having your flesh torn into by the teeth of a hungry predator.

Ihhuitl jabbed Tecoli with an elbow. “Stop that! Be nice to our guest!”

“Aw, come on, Auntie, it was only a joke,” Tecoli protested. She gave Celestia a mischievous grin. “I sure got you good though, didn’t I?”

Celestia managed to return the smile. “You certainly did, I’d say.” Despite the scare, she could always appreciate a good prank.

Ihhuitl put a claw to her forehead. “Please do not encourage her,” she said.

“Hey, she’s a Princess! She can do what she wants!” said Tecoli. “And speaking of which, you wanna come with us to the palace now?”

“Well, I wouldn’t quite say I can do everything I want,” said Celestia, “But it seems like we were heading there already, and I think I’d enjoy getting to see the palace for myself either way.” She turned her head back towards the rest of her group. Though many were agitated, they all seemed to have settled back down. “What say you? We wouldn’t want our young general waiting any longer, would we?”

“Probably not,” said Daring Do. “Sounds like the Emperor is waiting for us.”

“Iron Will agrees! Let’s not waste any more time!”

The guards each gave Celestia a silent nod. Ihhuitl’s soldiers turned led the group further down the streets, approaching ever closer to the gargantuan palace.

As Celestia approached, she could only hope that the Emperor would be friendly.

————————

Celestia of the Dawn 3WWW

Legendary Creature — Horse Advisor

Alicorn (This card is a Horse, Pegasus, and Unicorn in addition to its other creature types.)

Flying, vigilance, lifelink

Other Horses, Unicorns, and Pegasi you control get +1/+1 and have vigilance.

Whenever another Horse, Pegasus, or Unicorn enters the battlefield under your control, you gain 1 life.

4/4

————————

Ihhuitl, the Thundering Sky 2RW

Legendary Creature — Viashino Knight

First strike, haste

As long as you control a Dinosaur, Knights you control get +1/+1 and have flying.

”We are the winds of the Western Star, the wings that carry the Golden Sun above.”
— Creed of the Sky Knights

3/3

————————

Tecoli, the Burning Glade 2RG

Legendary Creature — Viashino Warrior

Vigilance, reach

As long as you control a Dinosaur, Warriors you control get +1/+1 and have menace.

”We are the flames of the Northern Star, the spark that grants the Golden Sun its might.”
— Creed of the Flame Dragoons

3/3

Author's Note

I’d thought of this chapter quite a long time after creating the first draft of Celestia’s card. The question that I’d asked myself was “what would be a good chapter for Princess Celestia for me to feature her card in?” Celestia’s card also synergizes quite well with Crested Sunmare. Is it a coincidence? Who knows? :trollestia:

The rest of the chapter came to me in a burst of inspiration, and pretty much fell into place with the other things I’d previously established in MLPlaneswalker canon. The Cuetzpali Empire, the Duke of Espoña, Tempest meeting Vraska, etc. It also happened to fit in rather nicely.

Finally, many of the names related to the Cuetzpali are derived from the Nahuatl language. For reference:

Cuetzpali = Lizard

Ihhuitl = Feather

Xochitli = Flower

Tecoli = Charcoal

Quetzalcoatl = Feathered Serpent. Better known as the name of one of the most important gods in the Aztec religion.

“Atlazan” was the name seen in early leaks of the Ixilan set, before the name became Ixilan.

You may notice that the named cuetzpali here are given the “viashino” creature type. This is mostly because they’re not exactly dinosaurs, and even though their race is in-story referred to as “cuetzpali”, the viashino are already the MtG multiverse’s canonical lizardfolk creature type.