Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle,

As you know, I’m not one for superstition. There have been too many times where I have muttered the phrase, “That’s impossible!” to the point where I wonder if it has become my ultimate mantra. Each time, I quickly find that whatever doesn’t have an explanation can be simply explained in a short briefing. It was one of the biggest reasons for starting my school, as you know.

Even I didn’t know everything about the arcane at one point. Starswirl the Bearded had left notes and theories that most ponies wouldn’t understand, and my ability to raise the sun and Luna’s moon were more of a feeling than actual magic.

Most unicorns went through life content that they could levitate objects, and found no reason to question it. Most pegasi didn’t check to see if their wing anatomy actually allowed them to fly with great stability, because they could and didn’t need to worry. Most earth ponies considered their green thumbs as part of the family and what they could do specially. This idea of simple dismissal for lack of an explanation is what gave the arcane the term magic.

But, like Starswirl, somepony eventually comes along and starts asking the right questions. When they find answers and show them to the world, we might claim that it is impossible at first, until an explanation is given. Superstition vanishes, and all goes back to normal. You are a great example of an open scientist yourself, Twilight.

Every now and then, we get somepony who asks the questions, but doesn’t dish out the answers. Motives switch from the love of knowledge to an entity unknown, and that can entail lots of problems up ahead.

How does this relate back to me meeting that unknown mare that night?

She was trying to impress.

The pale moonlight highlighted her scarlet form; amber hair flowed down to her neck with no instruction, yet managed to stay kempt. I glanced at her cutie mark to see an interesting sight: it was a red giant star, very similar to my sun, except hers wasn’t filled in with a special color, but shared the color of her coat.

I stared at her face. She was a unicorn that clearly understood magic; I peered into her teal eyes to see if I could learn something about her, but all I could sense was the confidence that accompanied her smirk. The mare took a step forward and raised a hoof in greeting.

“The name’s Glowing Sera.”

That is the best translation I can give you for her name; the olden language isn’t perfect (and neither is my memory) but I can assure you that it was a name of similarity to yours, Twilight. Her voice was harsh and worn, and it sounded like she was tired.

I outstretched my hoof and shook hers, shock still evident on my face. Eventually I shook my head to clear my thoughts and said, “Princess Celestia.”

Her smirk widened into a near smile. My name held some recognition to her. “I know,” she responded, “You’re causing quite a stir to everypony out here tonight.”

I was reminded of where I was: the side of the rocky mountain was cool and my hair was being more active than usual with interaction from the wind. The castle looked somewhat small from the distance.

“I would say you’re causing something interesting as well,” I started, “It isn’t everyday I see somepony both being held hostage miles away from here and walking free at the same time.”

“Ah, that,” she sighed, “I’m not exactly here right now.”

“What?” I asked. My questions were silenced when I saw what was happening to her muzzle.

It was fading from a rich red into a muddy gray. As I watched more the clay-like color spread to the rest of her face, then neck. Her face was no longer moving, but staring at me with that same smirk. Her eyes had become holes that I could see inside of. As the color spread down to her body and legs, I tapped the side of her muzzle. It was cold and wet.

The mare I was just talking with had transformed into a pony-shaped clay golem.

As the final bit of color disappeared, I tried to make sense of how that was even possible. Quickly, though, her legs started to fade back in and the scarlet started to spread upwards.

Once she had fully returned to a pony in front of me, she grinned wider. “How?” I gawked.

“It’s easier to explain how I did that by explaining my specialty. I’m a magician, if you couldn’t tell. More importantly, I’m a scientist, and one great spell-maker at that. That’s my specialty: I see a spell, and I can extrapolate to find new uses or combine it with other spells. What you just saw is called extended animation.”

“Extended animation?”

“Well, if I’m able to teleport myself to a different area, why couldn’t I teleport just my magic? It turns out that you can teleport your magic out to an object and inhabit it. I’ve gotten so good at the spell that I can throw half of my magic into this golem and stay half-alert in my real body!”

A feat like that is impressive in modern day, and back then I was amazed at how a spell like that was even possible. “So you’re not physically here right now?” I asked.

“No. I actually am in your throne room being held hostage, but I’ve been sort of half watching everything that you’ve been doing outside. And—getting back to what I originally said—it is awfully hypocritical.”

Although I was still trying to wrap my head around her strange spell, I decided to continue onto the next subject. “How is that so?”

“Well, your speech was all about not giving up on one another and joining together, but you’re doing the exact opposite of that such to Luna. For being impromptu, it was mustered up very quickly to denounce her as a monster.”

“You heard me in my oration. Luna has never and never would in her right mind do this to—”

“Are you sure about that? Because this doesn’t seem too surprising to me.”

I paused. Although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, she had a point. I was quick to jump at the fact that The Affliction was an affliction. Is it possible that I was wrong in assuming she was evil so quickly? No, I told myself, I’m not.

“Why would you know my sister better than me?” I asked.

“Do you remember Luna’s trip to Fillydelphia a few months back?” I did. Luna left on her own to the growing town to see if they were following the laws of Equestria and if anything had gone wrong. When she came back I received a letter from some of the sympathetic Fillydelphia natives explaining the trip didn’t go too well for her, as none of the figures of authority took her seriously. I helped calm her down—I got her to stop fuming—and figured it was okay.

“Well,” she said, “I happened to be living there. When Luna saw me she took me back here as the castle’s official Spellmaker.”

“We don’t have a spellmaker, you must be mistaken.”

“I know,” she looked down, “Luna never went through with getting me set up. She used me to create spells specifically for her and to help train her magic to make it stronger.”

“What kind of spells did you teach her?” If Glowing was able to conjure up a spell so advanced as allowing her to take over objects, what she could have made for Luna could have been used against us.

“It was mainly just building up the magical strength and power, but I made a few spells. She wanted a spell that would give her more control in the dream-realm; instead of being able to only get rid of nightmares in dreams, she also wanted the ability to switch somepony’s dream into something happier. At least, she told me that was its use. I also created a spell that would allow the overlapping of magic; the blade she is holding to my throat right now has the power of three blades in one.”

“You’re telling me that you gave her the ability to triple her magical power?” I started to raise my voice.

She put her hooves up in defense. “No, no. She can’t triple all magical power, but for spells where she uses an aura to reach out—like levitating an object or conjuring up a blade—she can bend her magic to support itself as an extra foundation. I can teach you the spell as well, if you’d like.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I got out through gritted teeth, glaring her down, “You’ve hoofed over valuable tools to my enemy.”

I was leaning over her, and although it looked like she was cowering under me, she showed no fear on her face.

“First off,” she announced, “You’re quick to call Luna your enemy. Like I said before, maybe you don’t fully understand Luna. I believe she considered me a confidant when she first hired me. Luna was full of anxiety and paranoia toward you and the nation in general. She subtly put her thoughts about Equestria into conversation. I remember, she believed you were trying to throw her out completely.”

“What?” I was shocked; she never showed any sign of such.

“Yep. She lost trust of me sometime in the last week as well. She said I was plotting with you to stage an attack against her through my spells.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Not in a mind as paranoid as hers. I’ve seen this night being built up to for the past few months. Fortunately, Luna wasn’t completely wrong in her accusations. I weaved a catch into my spells. If any spell I create is used in a negative way, whether it be full-out murder or holding a blade to my throat, the catch will activate. The spell will inflict pains similar to poison on her. The more she uses any spell for wrongdoing, the more the spell will increase the pain felt. It will never kill her—no, I couldn’t do that—it won’t even weaken her that much, but it will hurt like Tartarus.”

“So what’s the point?” I inquired, “It’s not going to actually do any physical damage to her.”

“The goal was to discourage her from continuing down that path. I think it just enraged her more.”

Glowing Sera guiltily shrank and frowned. As she stared at the ground, it looked to me like she was contemplating voicing a thought in her mind. She boldly looked up and stared into my eyes with determination. “I’m sorry, Princess Celestia, but your sister—not some monster that you think has taken her over—has been waiting for this night to come for a long while. I don’t know what her end game is, or how she expects to win, but I know that the best pony to face her is you. I am certain that I will come out of this okay—but if you continue lying to yourself, then I can’t say the same for our diarchy or Equestria in general.”

Glowing was wrong; she had to be. My sister was An Affliction, A Nightmare Moon that wasn’t thinking correctly.

Glowing was wrong; she had to be. I had seen the hatred in its eyes; there was no Luna in there.

Glowing was wrong; she had to be. I couldn’t fight my sister, and I wasn’t going to.

I realized I had been staring into Glowing’s eyes for a long while. I could feel sweat drip down my muzzle.

“I’m sorry, but what you’re saying is false. I need to get back to our camp to see how everypony is doing in gathering materials.”

She could see through me. “Okay,” she answered suspiciously, “I’ll switch back to my body in the throne room and see what is happening there. I hope you’ll change your mind.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again as I took to the air off the mountain slope, “but I can’t.”

Glowing Sera was—if anything—bold. The ability to stand up and call out your ruler is rare, but she talked to me like I was an average pony.

I think it made her argument more believable.

That didn’t mean I was going to stop planning my fight against The Affliction—An Affliction that wasn’t my sister, but something else.

As I flew back toward the camp, I couldn’t seem to shake a peculiar feeling coursing through me.

It was superstition.

-Princess Celestia

Author's Note

Ha! I can release a chapter that isn't almost two weeks apart from the last! I hope everyone enjoyed reading this, and thoughts/criticisms are always welcome.