Fourth Harmony: Induction

Chapters

Chapter 2: Incitement
Chapter 3: Interactions
Chapter 4: Ingredients
Chapter 5: Interference
Chapter 7: Invasion
Chapter 8: Instruction
Chapter 9: The Dragon's Challenge
Chapter 1: Interventions
Chapter 6: Incursion

Chapter 2: Incitement

As Twilight Sparkle and Bella Lulamoon reached the clearing in front of the Haven of Harmony, Twilight started to have second thoughts about bringing her student with her. Had she overstepped herself by bringing along a pony who hadn’t been summoned by the Map? Would what she came to find not appear because she wasn’t alone?

Bella, not knowing the reason they had come here, had no such doubts, and so kept up her pace as Twilight hesitated. When she reached the foot of the stairs to the Haven’s upper level, Bella stopped and looked back, quizzical. “Is something wrong, Princess?” she asked.

“Uh,” Twilight said as she walked up, unsure of how to phrase her doubts in a kind and understandable way.

Before Twilight could find the words, the door at the base of the tree-house opened of its own accord, accompanied by a voice that sent a shiver down Twilight’s spine. “Be welcome, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Bearer of Magic,” it said, “and also you, Bellatrix Lulamoon.”

“That sounds… exactly like you, Princess,” Bella said, bemused. “What’s going on?”

“I think I can guess,” Twilight said, shaking off the willies and walking through the door. Inside, she found herself face-to-face with a glittery, ethereal image of herself. As Bella followed Twilight in, the Princess said, “My first non-pony students said you always adopted my form to speak to them... Harmony?” The glittery Twilight nodded slightly, accepting the name. “Even knowing that,” the real Twilight continued, “it’s still a little strange to finally see it for myself.”

The image tilted its head, smiling beatifically. “I’ve never had to do this for you until now,” it said, “because you’ve always been sharp enough to deduce what I needed of you and your friends with just a pointer in the right direction. If this form bothers you, though, I can appear as somepony else.” It proceeded to do exactly that, blurring and reforming into a pink earth pony with an excessively curly mane.

Twilight took a step back, grimacing. “No, no,” she said, averting her eyes, “please don’t. I’d much rather look in a mirror than at a ghost.”

“Very well,” Harmony said, returning to the form of Twilight.

“I’m sorry,” Bella cut in, walking around the real Twilight to stand between the two alicorns, “but can somepony catch me up on what’s happening here?”

The glittery image turned its smile on the unicorn. “Think of me as a manifestation of the magic of Harmony,” it explained. “A projection of the power that resides in the Haven, created to more easily communicate with the creatures whose aid I require.”

“It’s the same magic that powers the Map and my castle,” Twilight added. “And the Elements of Harmony, when they still existed.” Bella’s mouth made a little “o” of comprehension as the Harmony image nodded. “So, why did you bring me here?” Twilight asked Harmony. “And why the manifestation this time?”

“What I have to ask of you this time may be too complex for you to deduce on your own,” Harmony said. It turned suddenly and floated away, saying, “Come!” Twilight and Bella followed the image into the next room, where a pair writing desks and chairs were set up under a window. Harmony drifted up to hover over one of the desks and turned to face Twilight and Bella again.

“The magic of Harmony has always existed,” Harmony said, “although it was not until the Pillars of Old Equestria planted a special seed that the magic began to take on a form that ponies could categorize and understand. As the Tree of Harmony, I took the virtues demonstrated by the Pillars and tuned them to higher ideals. Strength into Honesty, Healing into Kindness, Bravery into Loyalty, and so forth. The first rise of Discord prompted me to lend the Elements of Harmony to Celestia and Luna, though as a mere two ponies they could do little with them beyond buying the world time for the True Bearers to be born and prepared.”

“Me, and my friends,” Twilight said. “We finished what the Princesses couldn’t, and even cleaned up a few messes that the Pillars left behind.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s your point?”

“With the founding of your School of Friendship and the destruction of Grogar’s Bewitching Bell,” Harmony said, “you and your friends ushered in a new era for the world. Harmony and Friendship touch the lives of more than just Unicorns, Pegasi, and Earth Ponies, and there is no longer any threat that could rise from this world that would require the overwhelming power of the Elements to defeat.

“However,” Harmony’s voice grew grim, “there still exist things that could bring disaster to this world, things not born of this or any other Universe. You have faced two such things already, Twilight.”

“I… I have?” Twilight sputtered.

“Discord,” Harmony said. “Tau’rin.”

Twilight blinked, too taken aback to voice her confusion.

Bella, on the other hoof, found her tongue still worked. “Wait, Discord’s not from Equestria? He’s from another universe?”

“Yes, and no,” Harmony said. “Discord’s origins predate time and space as you know them, Bellatrix, but over time he has become integrated into the rhythms and flow of the world. Tau’rin was… an unwelcome and untimely intrusion. You were extremely lucky to have survived your encounter with him, Twilight.”

“We certainly were,” Twilight agreed, “but I’m sure if we hadfound a chance to turn the Elements of Harmony on him directly-”

“They would have done little,” Harmony interrupted, every feather of its suddenly outstretched wings quivering. “Perhaps they could have turned Tau’rin to stone as they did Discord, if we were lucky. Powerful as they were, the Elements were not intended to combat evil of such... foreign origin on such short notice.”

Harmony calmed, and its smile returned. “More things like and yet not like Tau’rin will set their sights on Equestria in the near future,” it said, “and in light of that, I am preparing these.” It pointed down at the desk, the top of which popped open to reveal five dull grey crystals, each with a unique shape that both Twilight and Bella recognized instantly.

Twilight’s voice grew soft with awe and reverence as her eyes swept across the lighting bolt, the butterfly, the diamond, the balloon, and the apple, naming them each in turn. “Loyalty, Kindness, Generosity, Laughter, Honesty.” She looked back up at her glittery doppelganger and said, “You’re bringing the Elements of Harmony back?”

“Yes,” Harmony said. “Although, they will likely not take the forms you remember once they are ready. A new kind of danger comes, and so new ideals may be needed to counter it. New symbols for the creatures of this world to rally behind and master. This is the task I ask of you, Twilight Sparkle, last of my original intended Bearers: prepare for a new generation to take up the mantle of Element Bearers. Be a mentor and foundation for Equestria’s next defenders to build upon.”

Twilight felt her heart sink a little. To see the Elements of Harmony recreated in front of her and be told that they would be needed was bittersweet enough, but to also be told that she wasn’t to take a direct role herself? She blinked away a bitter tear and gave herself a mental shake. Don’t be selfish, she thought. This isn’t about you, Sparkle. You’ve devoted your time to spreading Harmony and Friendship precisely so you don’t have to shoulder the burden of protecting Equestria alone. She took a deep breath to calm herself and looked the manifestation of Harmony in the eye with sincere determination. “I’ll do my best,” she said.

“You always do,” Harmony replied, warmly.

Bella inhaled through her teeth, drawing the others’ attention. “Sorry,” Bella said, “just curious, but, why are there only five Elements here?”

Twilight cast look at Harmony, and then answered, “The Element of Magic only appeared to me once I’d paired the other five with their Bearers. I assume it’s going to be same way this time? Awaken five to summon the sixth?”

“That is my current plan,” Harmony said. Its eyes suddenly unfocused, and it began drifting toward the ceiling. “I’ve said what needs to be said for now,” it declared. “Head back home, seek out potential Bearers, and be prepared to act once the Elements are readied. The day may come without any warning.” The desk closed up and the image faded into empty air.

Twilight turned to Bella and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, you heard her,” Twilight said. “Let’s go. I have a lot to think about, and I still need to check on Citrine.”

“Of course, Princess Twilight,” Bella said, falling dutifully into step behind the alicorn. Before she stepped out of the Haven, she paused and took a last, lingering look back at the room where the Elements were hidden. I wonder why I was allowed to witness all that, she thought.

“You didn’t have to walk me all the way back, Aunt Sweetie,” Citrine said as she climbed the steps to the castle’s front door.

“I wanted to, though,” Sweetie replied, her tone deliberately sappy. She laughed at Citrine’s groan and patted her on the back. “Can you blame me?” she asked. “I live just down the street, and I still don’t get to see you very often.”

“I get busy,” Citrine, replied half-heartedly.

“Ok, ok,” Sweetie said, rolling her eyes. “I get it. You’re still welcome any time, and I promise my cooking isn’t that bad anymore.” She gave her niece a quick hug and turned to head back home.

Ctirine watched Sweetie go for a bit, and then turned back to the castle door and heaved a sigh. “Ok Citrine,” she said under her breath, “we’re keeping that temper of ours under control this time.” She pulled the doors open and walked inside.

There was a Changeling standing in the foyer with its back to Citrine. It was of average size, unadorned, and had made no apparent alterations to the basic black chitin and teal elytra of the species. Citrine couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be male or female – or something else entirely, for all she knew – but its legs had wide pockmarks instead of holes all the way through. That, Citrine knew, was a sign of being well-fed from nymph-hood and was enough to grant it a benefit of the doubt. Renegade ‘lings, even reformed ones, tended to be scarred by constant near-starvation.

“Can I help you?” Citrine asked. She was disappointed, but not surprised, when the Changeling didn’t react to her voice with shock or fear, but, likely forewarned by emphatic sense, just turned calmly around to look at her. The Changeling’s eyes did surprise Citrine, though, as they were not the featureless blue of an ordinary ‘ling, but pale green with visible, round pupils. Then Citrine noticed its lack of protruding fangs.

This was quite possibly a Royal Changeling, then. Those were exclusively female, at least so far...

“Hello,” the Changeling said, its voice pushing Citrine’s assessment a few more notches closer to “probably a girl.” The Changeling held out a hoof and said, “I am Beetroot, fifth Princess under Cabbage Patch of the Crystal Hive, true Queen of the Changelings, as this will prove.” A wooden token materialized on the Changeling’s hoof, and she tossed it lightly to Citrine.

Citrine caught the token in her magic and looked it over. One side was carved with a heart perforated with holes – the symbol of Queen Cabbage Patch and her Hive – while the other had the words “Beetroot, Princess,” carved and lined with gold leaf. Definitely female then, Citrine thought. Ninety-three percent certain. I’d also say she’s legitimate, except… “Nice to meet you,” she said, “but I thought you were supposed to arrive yesterday. Princess Twilight was rather upset when you never showed up for your audience. Her schedule was thrown off completely.”

“Ah, yes,” Beetroot said, rubbing one foreleg against the other as she looked away, “there were some difficulties on the way here. Is… Is Princess Twilight available now, or soon? I must apologize for my tardiness personally.”

“Uh,” Citrine said, looking around the foyer, “I only just got back here myself, so I couldn’t tell you-” The sound of the castle doors opening interrupted her words, and she and Beetroot both turned to see Twilight Sparkle and Bella coming in.

“Citrine!” Twilight exclaimed. “There you are. Good.” She then noticed Beetroot and said, “Oh, good morning! Sorry, I don’t think I recognize you, Miss…?”

I have to learn how she can guess that so fast, Citrine thought before floating the token over to Twilight. “She says she’s the Changeling Princess who was supposed to be here yesterday,” Citrine said as Twilight took the token in her own magic. “I saw her conjure the token, and it matches the name she gave me.”

“Beetroot,” Twilight read from the token, and then floated it back to Beetroot, giving her a small smile as well. “You are late, but at least you made it safely. Welcome to Ponyville.” She walked over and gestured deeper into the castle with a wing. “Come on,” she said, “we can work through the formalities in my study. Girls,” she cast a glance over her shoulder, “this may take a while, so I’m going to trust you won’t get into a second fight today.”

“Yes ma’am,” Citrine and Bella said as Twilight and Beetroot walked away.

Once the two unicorns were alone in the foyer, they exchanged glances with one another. “Citrine,” Bella said, levelly.

“Lulamoon,” Citrine responded in the same tone.

“Sorry I accused you of stealing my hair ties,” Bella said.

“Did you find them after I stormed out?”

“Just this one,” Bella said, showing off the end of her braid.

“Ah,” Citrine pursed her lips. “I… I’ll help you look for the rest. And help clean your half of our room. Sorry for flying off the handle.”

Bella smirked. “An apology gift proportional to the offense,” she said. “That’s rare.”

Citrine made a non-committal sound, and her gaze drifted to where Twilight and Beetroot had gone. “That Changeling,” she said. “Something seemed off.”

Bella looked askance at her fellow student. “She gave you her ID token, didn’t she?” she asked. Citrine nodded. Bella tossed her head and turned away, marching in the direction of her and Citrine’s room. “Then you can just leave her to Princess Twilight,” Bella declared. “Don’t borrow trouble, else you’ll pay it back double. Besides, I have something much more important to tell you about.”

Citrine’s head whipped around, and she trotted after Bella. “What?” she asked. When she caught up, she saw a mischievous twinkle in Bella’s eyes. “Bella,” Citrine whined.

Bella kept silent and let Citrine’s curiosity simmer until the pair reached their room. Despite what Bella had recently learned about her fellow student, the two still had a long history of academic rivalry, and that wasn’t going to just stop in a single morning.

“Seriously Bella, out with it!” Citrine finally snapped. “If you keep stringing me along, there’s going to be another fight.”

“Patience,” Bella chided, closing the door. “I just wanted to be sure nopony – or a certain floating metal horse head – could overhear. I’ll tell you everything as we clean.”

Citrine glowered, but went over to where her bed-sheets had wound up and started putting them back on the bed, and Bella made good on her word and began weaving the tale of her visit to the Haven of Harmony with Twilight while picking up and sorting the scattered books. When Bella got to the part where the spirit of Harmony showed up, Citrine stopped what she was doing and just stared at her compatriot. “It looked just like Princess Twilight?” she asked.

Bella chuckled theatrically. “Ah, that’s not even the most interesting part, though!” she declared. “The spirit gave us a little history lesson that I won’t bore you with right now, and then revealed why it wanted to talk to the Princess.” She paused for dramatic effect, setting her books down heavily in two stacks. “There are new Elements of Harmony!”

Citrine met Bella’s broad grin with nonplussed surprise. “Really?” Citrine said. “That’s… Bah re.”

“Exactly,” Bella said. “And to really blow your mind, I’ll bet anything that we are going to be two of the new Bearers.”

Citrine set her pillow down on her bed with deliberate calm and then slowly turned to give her rival her full attention. “And how do you figure that?” she asked.

Citrine rolled her eyes. “Well,” she said, “I didn’t get summoned out to the Haven, but Harmony didn’t seem at all surprised or upset that I was there, which I think means it expected to start working with me at some point. And if I’m going to be a Bearer, then it follows that you, as Princess Twilight’s other personal student, are just as qualified.” She nodded firmly in satisfaction as Citrine got a thoughtful look on her face, and went back to cleaning.

After about a minute, Citrine said, “Ok, let’s assume you’re right. That raises the question of which of us gets the Element of Magic.”

“It might not go to either of us,” Bella responded. “There are six Elements, you know, which means four more potential Bearers, one of whom may be a better fit...”

“Ah ah,” Citrine said. “by your logic, we’re candidates because we are Twilight Sparkle’s students. Twilight is the Bearer of Magic, and she was the personal student of Princess Celestia, who bore the Element of Magic before Twilight.”

“The Princesses have never confirmed which-”

“And Celestia,” Citrine barreled on over Bella’s objection, “was taught by Starswirl the Bearded, whose virtue of Sorcery was the primitive form of the Element of Magic. Therefore, Princess Twilight’s personal student would be the next Bearer of Magic. But there are two of us, so... You or me?”

Bella sighed. I only have myself to blame for this, she thought. “I think you’re taking this thought exercise a little too far,” she said, although she felt little hope of Citrine agreeing at this point.

Citrine huffed and hopped onto her bed, striking a prideful pose. “Of course it’s obvious,” she declared. “I would be the natural choice, as the inheritor of Meis Thamule.”

And there it is, Bella thought, giving Citrine her best “not impressed” face. “You do understand how little means to me, right?” she asked. Citrine’s head snapped down to stare at Bella, her green eyes colder than the Yaket range in winter. Bella flinched back a little, cursing her poor choice of words. “Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “I don’t intend disrespect; I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Citrine blinked, and then got down from her bed, blushing with embarrassment. “You… you really don’t?” she asked in a small voice.

“No,” Bella said with some exasperation. “I never even heard the term before I met you, you’ve never defined it for me, and when I tried to ask Princess Twilight about it earlier, she just danced around the question. So, please, tell me straight, what is a meis thamule?”

Citrine took a second to answer, biting her lip as she dealt with some inner struggle. “Father told me it refers to the most powerful mage of his birthplace,” she said.

Bella’s head tilted to the side as her brow wrinkled. “Wait,” she said, “is it an earned title or inherited, then? Because you talk as if you expect to hold it just because you’re Ash’s daughter, but your definition makes it sounds like something you’d have to prove your right to.”

Citrine pursed her lips. “I… Hm,” she scratched her head. “Now that you mention it… I can’t recall Father ever explaining the history of Meis Thamule, or what I would have to do to claim it. He did say I could, and my cutie mark includes the symbol, so...”

Bella chuckled a little at Citrine’s perplexed look and went back to cleaning. “So tragic,” she mused quietly, “the great hero Ashen Blaze dying before passing on all his secrets to his successor.”

Citrine’s eyes hardened again. “Father’s not dead,” she insisted.

“Oh?” Bella turned to look at her. “My mistake. Where is he then?”

“He...” Citrine’s ears drooped. “He had to go home, to the Taryn universe. Something terrible was happening and his friends there needed his help. He promised he’d come back. He always, always keeps his promises. But, the portal mirror… broke. Nopony could fix it and-” She froze, her ears perked up suddenly, and she looked at Bella with a broad grin and a sly glint in her eye. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “I’ll get the portal to Taryn back open and bring Father home. That would prove beyond a doubt that I’m capable of bearing the Element of Magic!”

“Oh… kay?” Bella said, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. “I can’t argue that that would be impressive… Uh, do you… want some help with that or-” She squealed in shock as Citrine suddenly lifted in her in telekinesis and sent her flying toward the door.

“Oh no, you don’t get to share the credit!” Citrine declared. “Find your own super magic project if you want to be the Element of Magic so much!” She dropped Bella out in the hallway and shut the door.

Bella sat on the floor, too stunned to do anything but try to catch up with Citrine’s train of thought. She could faintly hear the sounds of things being picked up and put down from inside the room, coupled with incomprehensible mumbling. “Find my own super magic…?” Bella muttered, and then her eyes widened as she surged to her feet and whirled to pound on the door. “Citrine! You did not just challenge me to a magic contest!”

The door cracked open enough for Citrine to poke her head out and meet Bella’s eyes, a tangled wad of hair ties floating in a bubble of magic above her head. “Found them under your tea saucer,” Citrine said, moving them a little closer to Bella before slamming the bunch onto the floor at her hooves. “And yes, that was a challenge, Lulamoon.” She shut the door again, firmly.

Bella levitated the hair ties up and started to untangle them. “I see,” she said quietly. Then, sticking the ties into her mane, she threw the bedroom door open and stalked back inside. “Challenge accepted, then,” she said. “Now, let’s lay out the ground rules to avoid any fighting over the results.”

Chapter 3: Interactions

The door of Twilight Sparkle’s study opened and the Princess of Friendship walked out with a wing draped lightly over the back of the Changeling Princess Beetroot. “Don’t worry about a thing,” Twilight was saying. “I won’t mention it to any creature without your permission. Well, I assume your fellow Changelings already know...”

“Yes. It’s not exactly easy keeping secrets within the Hive Mind,” Beetroot said. Her downcast eyes stole a glance up at Twilight. “You’re sure it’s not a problem, though?”

Twilight stopped, withdrew her wing, and turned to face Beetroot. “Look,” she said, “you have been vouched for by the Changeling Queen, the Princess of Canterhorn Hive, and the Changeling Ambassador to Canterlot. Your family thinks you’re ready and able for this responsibility, and after speaking with you I can only agree. You have given me information that I’ll need to confer with Cabbage Patch about, but there’s no reason for me not to welcome you to Ponyville and offer you my full support.”

Changelings don’t shed tears in their natural forms, but Beetroot’s eyes still glistened with gratitude. “Thank you, Princess Twilight. I swear, I will never violate your trust.”

“Good to hear,” Twilight said, slightly amused. “Now, do you need directions to the Diamond Quarter or…?”

“Oh, no, I know the way,” Beetroot said. “I already have the equivalent of three different maps of Ponyville to draw on from the Hive Mind.”

“Three maps?” Twilight asked, bemused.

Beetroot nodded, “One of the ground level, one of the caverns and mines, and one of the sky. That last one’s more like the typical movement patterns of pegasus cloud houses, but...” She shrugged, and then winced at her sudden casualness in front of fellow royalty.

Twilight didn’t seem to notice. “I never considered trying to chart how the cloud condos drift...” she mused. “I might bring that up to the City Council. Assuming they haven’t thought about it already, of course.” Started to wander off, but caught herself and turned back to Beetroot with an embarrassed look. “Sorry,” she said, “you’ve probably got a lot to do. Don’t let me hold you up any longer.”

“Thank you, Princess.” Beetroot sketched a quick bow and trotted away.

Once the Changeling was well out of earshot, Twilight turned to her next order of business. “Pesci!” she called, “Are you nearby?”

There was an answering sound like the jingle of bells, and the floating metal pony-head computer came bobbing down the hall. “How can I be of service, Princess Twilight?” Pesci asked.

“Do you know where Bella and Citrine are right now?” Twilight asked.

“I do,” Pesci said.

It took Twilight a second to realize the computer wasn’t going to elaborate. “Where are they?” she asked.

“Miss Citrine is in her bedroom,” Pesci replied, “and Miss Bella has gone to the library.”

“Ok, thank you,” Twilight said, giving Pesci a curious look. She started walking, and Pesci fell into place floating beside her, but stayed silent. Finally, Twilight stopped and asked, “Is something the matter with you, Pesci?”

“All systems optimal,” the computer replied.

“I doubt that,” Twilight said. “I don’t usually have to pry so much to get the information I want.” Pesci bobbed in place, but didn’t say anything. Twilight wrapped it in her magic and pulled it closer, turning it about as she checked for damage or foreign objects. “I don’t understand why… Wait, who have spoken to since the last time you spoke with me?”

“Spike the Great,” Pesci replied.

“Ah ha!” Twilight crowed, releasing Pesci. “So, that’s it. Pesci, I want you to revert to your previous user interaction settings, but keep the instructions Spike gave you in your memory. We need to have talk with him about boundaries.”

“As you will, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said as it recovered its equilibrium. “Now that the crisis with the Little Misses is resolved, Spike should be at his post in the library.”

“That’s better,” Twilight breathed, and then resumed walking. “Come along.”

One of the greatest underrated accomplishments of Twilight Sparkle’s life had been converting a portion of her castle into a public library. For the most part, it had been relatively easy: a simple matter of installing bookshelves and appropriate furniture in a section of rooms that would otherwise go unused, finding replacement copies or newer editions of the books that had been destroyed when Tirek had blown up the old Ponyville library, and getting the card catalog, cardholder account, and circulation paperwork put together. Far harder was finding out how to convince the castle itself – which was capable of surprising degrees of self-repair due to being created by and linked to the Tree of Harmony – to accept having a second “main entrance” door installed so ponies could come and go in the library wing without accidentally intruding on the rest of the castle. Of course, there was an interior door between the library wing and the rest of the castle, but only Princess Twilight and other authorized ponies were permitted to use it.

Bella Lulamoon had claimed a small table all for herself by virtue of stacking half a shelf’s worth of books on advanced magic on top of it. None of the books were open at present, as Bella was focused entirely on reviewing a list of ideas that she had just finished compiling. So far, she was just scratching out everything. “Starswirl the Bearded’s formerly Unfinished Spell,” she muttered before dragging her quill through the words. “Nope. Not only did that end up utilizing the Elements of Harmony, but since that’s the spell that let Twilight ascend, I would probably just get blown up if I tried it. Can’t have two Alicorns of Friendship. Probably.”

She moved down the list. “Starswirl’s time travel spell?” Bella shook her head. “Only works once per pony. I’m not wasting that just to show Citrine up. Starlight Glimmer’s version is also out because Twilight’s banned anypony from trying to recreate it. Or pushing the Map outside its intended purpose.”

“You’re looking busy,” came Twilight’s voice from somewhere behind Bella. The azure unicorn yelped and threw her front legs and head across her list, blocking it from view. “Doing some research into the...” Twilight trailed off as she reached the desk and saw Bella’s position, as well as the titles some of the books. “What are you researching, Bella?” she asked.

“Uhh...” Bella said, thinking quickly through the rules she and Citrine had agreed on. “I… guess I can tell you a little,” she said at length, sitting up and rolling her list into a tight scroll at the same time. “Citrine and I are having a little… contest to see who can create the most advanced spell.”

The corners of Twilight’s mouth curved down slightly. “I asked you girls not to fight again,” she said.

“It’s not a fight!” Bella hastily assured. “I just told her about what we saw at the Haven of Harmony, then one thing led to another, and Citrine challenged me to come up with a better ‘Element of Magic’ spell than her, and I’m sure you know the Lulamoon motto, Princess. Never back down from a challenge.”

“Uh huh,” Twilight said. “You know, that ‘motto’ has gotten your grandmother into deep trouble more than a few times in her life.”

“I’m not going to try taming an Ursa or go chasing any chaotic magic,” Bella scoffed. She saw Twilight raise a stern eyebrow and realized she needed to slow down a little. Taking a deep breath, she turned slightly in her chair to look Twilight in the eye better and said, “This is a matter of family pride for me, Princess, but it’s also a way to test our limits as mages. I promise you, Citrine and I are both being careful. Nothing that requires drawing on external sources of magic, nothing that isn’t well-grounded in precedent and documentation by you or other trustworthy scholars, and nothing with a significant possibility of exploding or setting something on fire if miscast.”

Twilight lowered her eyebrow and rubbed her forehead. “Ok,” she said, “you may have a good argument in testing your personal limits, and I appreciate you setting some safety rules, but...” She paused in thought. “Actually, I don’t have any reason to object to this. When are planning to do the actual competition?” she asked.

“We agreed on four days for study and preparation,” Bella said, “and we were hoping to keep you in the dark until the last minute so you’d be an impartial judge. This is probably better though, because now you know it’s coming.”

“Definitely,” Twilight said. She stopped rubbing her head and ran her hoof through her mane. “Tell you what,” she said, “there are plenty of advanced spells here in the library, as you’ve clearly figured.” She cast an amused glance at the stacks of books on the table. “But if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll let you borrow a single – and only one – book from my personal collection.”

Bella’s eyes widened. Twilight’s personal collection was full of books containing spells and magical theory that pushed the limits of what even the most magically talented unicorns were capable of, things the Princess deemed too risky to let the general public have open access to. Bella had only seen excerpts copied from the tamest of those restricted tomes, and mostly just the theory passages. “Are you serious, Princess?” Bella exclaimed, bouncing out of her chair. “That would be...” She deflated slightly. “It might be a bit unfair, though...”

“I’ll give Citrine the same option,” Twilight assured her student with a smile. “And I’ll do my best not to look at those books until after the contest so I can’t guess what the two of you will do. That said, I think you would benefit the most from Starlight Glimmer’s Collected Notes on Creative Spell Fusions.” She conjured up a key and hoofed it over to Bella. “That will let into the bookcase in my study, but only once, so choose carefully.”

Bella hugged the key to her chest, beaming. “Thank you, Princess! Thank you so much!”

Twilight nodded graciously and left. She started to make her way over to where Spike was working at the circulation desk, with Pesci hovering quietly nearby as instructed, but then stopped and turned away, heading for the private exit. “So much to do all of a sudden,” Twilight said, “but helping my students comes first.”

Citrine’s steps were light and giddy as she walked down the corridor to Princess Twilight’s study. She had been anything but giddy when Princess Twilight first came to her room and told Citrine what Bella had told her, but the anger had fled quickly once Twilight had explained that Bella hadn’t spilled everything. The key to the Princess’s private books had been the real game-changer, though. Once she’d taken the time to calm down and actually think about what she’d said to Bella, Citrine had started to doubt. Not to doubt her ability to re-create the portal to Taryn, but whether she’d be able to find the information she would need in order to pull it off. Citrine knew the Taryn portal had been an incredibly complex spell to develop and required many material components. The odds of finding all the details in publicly available books were slim at best.

And, oh, how Bella would laugh if Citrine couldn’t live up to her boasting.

Now that Citrine had access to the Princess’s books, though, her chances were looking better. Princess Twilight was mad for lists and reports; surely she had written down every step in the process of breaching the boundaries of universes to form a stable connection between Equestria and the home of the famous Order-naries that had fought for peace and order alongside the Elements of Harmony.

The closest thing Twilight’s castle had to a throne room was the Map room, but the way it was set up with the seven thrones arranged around the large Map made it a poor choice for formally receiving visitors. Thus, the Princess tended to just hold her Royal Courts in the castle foyer during the summer and at City Hall when the weather turned cold, while her personal study pulled double duty as the place for more private meetings. Today wasn’t a Court day, though, so Twilight’s afternoon would be filled with handling business at the School of Friendship, which gave Citrine and Bella plenty of time to pop into the Princess’s study and choose a book without encountering anypony, including each other.

Citrine had been inside Twilight’s study more than enough times to be comfortably familiar with the layout, although her eyes still went immediately to the photographs that hung on the wall behind Twilight’s perfectly organized desk. Most prominent was a picture of Princess Twilight, her fellow Elements of Harmony, and Spike. Below that were two other, slightly smaller pictures. The one on the left was of Twilight and the other alicorn Princesses: Celestia and Luna in the center with Twilight on their right and Cadance and Flurry Heart on the left. Citrine paid it little attention, in favor of the photo on the right. This one did not feature Twilight at all, but rather five ponies who had a faint aura of difference about them even in photographic form. On the left side were a pegasus mare and unicorn stallion, both golden-yellow in coat with brown manes and teal eyes, while on the right stood a brown earth pony mare with an untamed dark brown mane and a turquoise pegasus mare with a russet mane and a tail like a wolf. In the center of the group, looking grim despite his effort to smile, was Ashen Blaze, his grey coat and red and orange mane making him look like a live burning coal as his vivid green eyes drew in the viewer’s own.

“Father,” Citrine said, meeting the photographic Ash’s gaze with her own green eyes, “I’ll find you. Bring you home. You, and any of your friends who want to come along.” Tearing her eyes away from the photo, Citrine turned her attention to the locked bookcase that stood in the back corner of the room. She looked through the glass of the door, scanning the titles on the spines of the books lined up inside. She spotted her father’s name on a book on the second shelf from the bottom and stopped to look closer. The title read Advanced Treatises on Shadowstar Weave Magic in the Equestrian Magic System, with Ash credited as the author. Princess Twilight had recommended that very book to Citrine, citing the unicorn’s knack for learning nonstandard magic styles (nonstandard for unicorns, at least). For a moment, Citrine was tempted to take that book, to better understand Ash’s approach to magic, but she fought the urge down. Perhaps if the instructions she was actually looking for weren’t here…

There. Up on the highest shelf, tucked away on the end where it was almost impossible to make out the title, was a plain-looking book with the words “Successful New Magic Experiments” horn-written on the spine. Citrine pulled out the key the Princess had given her and unlocked the bookcase, throwing the door wide and holding it open with a hoof while she pulled the book down for a closer look. Flipping through the pages, she got glimpses of large, complex formulae, diagrams and tables of all kinds, and only the occasional sentence in plain Equuish. “This is going to be headache,” she muttered, and then stopped and flipped back a few pages, having spotted something that looked promising.

It was a diagram of a large, freestanding mirror framed with wood that had been liberally wrapped in some kind of wire and many, many gemstones. The diagram had an extensive number of helpful labels pointing to various parts, but Citrine didn’t need them to recognize the mirror. She’d seen it plenty of times in reality, before it shattered with the inexplicable collapse of the portal spell tied to it. Flipping back one more page, Citrine found her confirmation in a section title: “Anchoring the portal on the home end.”

“Kalbarandt! Yes!” Citrine cheered, hugging the book as she let the bookcase door swing shut. The lock clicked into place automatically and the key disintegrated, but Citrine paid it no mind as she galloped out of the study and back to her room.

Now, the planning could really begin.

Upon reaching the bedroom, Citrine saw Bella laying on her bed, front legs curled under her barrel and eyes closed in meditation. “How’s it going?” Citrine asked, a little louder than necessary.

Bella just cracked open one eye and said, “Still trying to decide on a spell to craft. You?”

Citrine belly-flopped onto her own bed, waving the book to show it off before setting it against her pillow, opened to the first page of the Taryn portal section. “I found the instructions,” she said. “There’s probably some other good stuff in here, but you can’t have any of them because-”

“Because that’s your selection from the Princess’s books,” Bella finished for her, closing her eye. “I don’t care. My own selection should be inspiration enough. I just need to think for a bit.”

Citrine huffed in irritation and turned her attention to the book. Bella could act calm and collected all she wanted. It didn’t even matter if the other unicorn could somehow come up with a spell to rival fixing the Taryn portal, so long as the portal got fixed.

Citrine didn’t consider herself much of a book-pony, but she kept her nose in the portal notes, slowly puzzling through each line of technical jargon, until Bella poked her in the side to tell her it was dinner time. Upon returning to the book with a full belly, Citrine finally hit on the notion of taking notes as she read, which quickly turned into trying to render Twilight’s notes into more easily understood language. “Why’d she even write it like this in the first place?” she grumbled to herself after a particularly dense paragraph on the theoretical structure of the boundaries that divided one universe from another. “No wonder they couldn’t get the portal back up.” She glanced up at the alarm clock on her nightstand, frowned at the time, and decided to skip ahead to the section on constructing the mirror. “Get the easy bit out of the way first,” she said, “then focus on the actual spell.”

Bella, who had stepped out at some point or maybe hadn’t even come back to the room after dinner, showed up again just as Citrine was getting to the end of the section. “It’s almost bedtime,” Bella declared. “Either stop for the night or find someplace else to study.”

Citrine sighed and closed the book. “Have you ever been into the room where the portal mirrors are kept?” she asked.

“I haven’t had a reason to,” Bella replied, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Citrine climbed off her bed. “Just wondering if they ever cleaned out the remnants of the Taryn mirror,” she said. “Guess I’ll have to go check myself.”

“Have fun,” Bella said dismissively as Citrine headed out into the corridor.

Chapter 4: Ingredients

Breakfast was typically a casual affair in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle. Despite her privileged upbringing and the multiple decades that she’d been officially counted among Equestria’s royalty, Twilight had never grown accustomed to having a large, full-time staff of servants. In fact, if it weren’t for Celestia pulling rank to reassign three shifts of Royal Guard and a weekly rotation of chefs from Canterlot Castle to Ponyville, the only creatures that did more than visit the castle proper would be Twilight, Bella, and Citrine. Asserting her own authority, Twilight had pushed back a little by insisting the chefs refrain from planning anything elaborate unless the Princess was hosting and to permit the Princess and her students to each take care of breakfast on their own.

For the morning of the day after the big revelation in the Haven of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle decided things were not going to be typical. The evening before, while Bella and Citrine had been busy with their spell projects, Twilight had gone out to Sugar Cube Corner to arrange for a little breakfast catering with fresh-baked pastries, waffles made-to-order, and drinks. When the food arrived in the morning, Twilight had been surprised to see it was being delivered not by mere catering employees, but by Sugar Cube Corner’s own head baker, Pumpkin Cake, and her daughter, Strawberry Lemonade.

There had been some friendly chit-chat and reminiscing as Twilight helped the two unicorns move the food into the dining room, and then the bakers politely shooed Twilight back as they got to work setting everything up. The sight of Pumpkin Cake puttering about with trays in her magic, her mane still held tight in a hair net, and a smile on her lips as she directed Strawberry brought a smile to Twilight’s face as well. Aside from the clearly different appearances of the actors, the scene was almost like watching old Mrs. Cake and Pinkie Pie working together to set up yet another party.

Twilight’s thoughts shifted when Pinkie crossed her mind, going back to the previous morning when Twilight had felt so disconnected from everything. Twilight frowned briefly, but only for a second as she realized the melancholy from the previous morning wasn’t coming. Faced with a pleasant, positively domestic scene, Twilight found she could confront her darker thoughts more objectively. Yes, the Element Bearers were all dead, save for Twilight obviously, as were many other ponies and creatures Twilight had known. However, not every creature from the “good old days” was gone, and those who had passed on had left behind family and new friends. For goodness sake, Sparkle, Twilight thought, rolling her eyes wistfully, one of your personal students, who you live and work with every day, is Rarity’s daughter! It is hard to remember that when she takes so much more after Ash, but-

“Princess Twilight!” a loud, tinny voice cried out, disturbing Twilight’s thoughts. With a slight groan, Twilight started to turn her head to the door Pesci was flying through, only to snap her gaze back to the table as Strawberry Lemonade dropped a pitcher of juice with a startled gasp, staring at the floating metal, pony-head-shaped computer. “Oh no,” Pesci said, coming to a sudden stop. “My apologies. I did not intend to startle anypony.”

“It’s fine,” Twilight said, trying to reassure Pesci and the Cakes all at the same time. “Pesci, unless this an emergency, wait for me in the hall.”

“As you will, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said, bobbing up and down slightly as it backed out of the room.

“What… was that thing?” Strawberry said.

“That was Pesci,” Twilight explained gently. “Just think of it as… something enchanted to be a personal assistant.” She looked at the spreading juice spill and asked, “Do you need any towels to clean that up, or…?”

“Oh no, don’t trouble yourself, Princess” Pumpkin Cake said, waving a hoof as she levitated a large stack of paper napkins out of the catering cart. “We’ll make do.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “I’ll get you some towels,” she declared, and stepped out into the hallway. Pesci was floating by the wall just outside the door, its LEDs imitating a set of downcast eyes. “Ok, Pesci,” Twilight said, “what’s up?”

“Apologies, Princess Twilight,” the computer said. “You apparently just forgot to wake me up this morning, and I… I believe ‘panicked’ is the emotion, not knowing your status when my rest cycle ended on its own.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, sheepish. “I should be the one apologizing then.”

“No need,” Pesci said, its eyes returning to their neutral state. “You obviously did not need reminding of the special breakfast you planned.”

“No,” Twilight admitted, “but I do need you to do two things. First, find someone to bring some towels to clean up the mess in there, and then go fetch the girls before they run off after their own breakfasts.”

Pesci bobbed a nod. “As you will, Princess Twilight!” it said, and then shot off down the hall.

“Two waffles,” Citrine said, “butter and maple syrup on both, please.”

“Coming right up,” Pumpkin Cake said, already pouring batter on the waffle irons.

“Thank you,” Citrine said before turning away and walking to the table, a plate of mixed fruit tarts floating in her magic.

As Citrine sat down, she caught Bella’s eye, and the other unicorn quirked an eyebrow over her own fruit- and cream-laden waffles. “Just syrup?” Bella asked. “How boring.”

“I like maple,” Citrine replied with faint disdain, “and I don’t like mixing it with fruity flavors.”

“Girls,” Twilight said firmly, “please.”

“Not fighting,” Citrine grumbled before stuffing a tart in her mouth.

Twilight chose to take that as an apology and not a claim of innocence. “Ok,” she said, “I’ve arranged this breakfast because we need to talk about how we’re going forward from yesterday.” She paused as Pumpkin brought Citrine’s waffles over, then continued once the baker had gone back to her station. “First of all, I’m suspending our magic lessons for the next week.”

Bella nearly choked on a bite of waffle, as Citrine exclaimed, “What? Why?!”

“Two reasons,” Twilight said. “First, there’s that spell-crafting contest you two set up for yourselves. If you’d rather pursue your studies in magic independently, then I shouldn’t get in your way.” Bella and Citrine shared a look, unsure if this was a vote of confidence from the Princess or a veiled rebuke. “Second, and more importantly,” Twilight said, “I need time to reconsider how I’ve been teaching you. I took both of you on as personal students because you each possess a potential for magic ability that is well above the average and beyond what even Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns can properly cultivate. In helping you to hone your potentials as mages, however, it seems I may have neglected to give equal attention to your understanding of Friendship.”

“That’s not true,” Bella protested. “I have plenty of friends. I can’t speak for Citrine, though.”

Citrine stuck her tongue out at Bella.

“That is exactly what I’m talking about,” Twilight said, pointing at Citrine and Bella in turn. “The relationship between you two in particular. I know that real friendships can grow between two ponies who like to compete with each other – Applejack and Rainbow Dash proved that all the time – but it’s a very precarious path. You can’t let beating the other pony be the only reason you spend time around them. Especially not if you’re going to be Element Bearers.”

This time, it was Citrine who nearly choked on a mouthful of milk. By sheer force of will, she resisted the urge to spit it out and instead forcibly swallowed. “Y-you mean,” she gasped, “we are going to-”

“Maybe,” Twilight said. “I think you both have a strong chance, but nothing is certain yet. After all, as I understand it, your contest arose out of a disagreement over which of you would make a better Bearer for Magic. Right?”

Bella opened her mouth to point out that that had all been Citrine’s thinking, but caught herself before the words came out. She thought she could guess where Twilight was going, and trying to paint Citrine as a villain would not put Bella in a good light. “That was where the idea came from, yes,” she said instead.

“All right,” Twilight said, propping her elbows on the table and putting her hooves together. “Honestly, I’ll gladly overlook that so long as you both keep this in mind: it’s not called the Element of Magic because the Bearer is exceptional at using unicorn magic; it’s called that because it represents the Magic of Friendship. The creature that carries that Element has to bring the other five together, to be the initial focal point from which a web of Friendship can grow between the individual Bearers and the group as a whole. So, I’ll say it again: go ahead and see who can create the more impressive spell, but don’t let it overshadow your potential to become better friends. Agreed?”

“Yes, Princess Twilight,” Bella and Citrine said in unison.

Twilight smiled and relaxed. “Good,” she said, cutting up her waffles. “Then there’s just one more thing I want to ask of you girls. As you go about your day, I’d like you to think of any creatures you know who might make good candidates for the Elements of Harmony.”

Citrine sat back and thought, a hoof pressed against her chin. “Well,” she said, “there’s Foxglove, for one...”

“There’s no rush, Citrine,” Twilight assured. “And I’m not expecting you to put together a full set of six with reasons why you picked each one. I just want some help figuring out who to take a closer look at. Oh,” she added after a second, casting a glance over at Pumpkin and Strawberry, who were trying to look like they hadn’t been listening in the whole time, “and please try not to tell everyone about the Elements yet.”

“Why not?” Strawberry asked without thinking, earning a sharp look from her mother.

Twilight gave the young baker a smile with little mirth behind it. “If every pony, griffon, and yak in the city knows I’m looking for new Element Bearers,” she said, “I will never see the end of ‘volunteers’ with far more pride than self-awareness during Court. And if it gets out of Ponyville...” Her eyes grew a little crazed-looking. “It might actually make Princess Celestia upset for the first time in years.”

“Ah,” Strawberry said, ducking her head and looking away.

“Right then!” Twilight said, suddenly in perfect cheer again, “That’s everything. Enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll see you… at some point.”

“Well, that was bit intense,” Citrine muttered as she left the dining room.

“We probably deserved all of it,” Bella replied, following. “I mean, she’s the Princess of Friendship, and we have not exactly been sterling examples of that principle lately.”

“Fair point,” Citrine said. “Still feeling up to doing the competition, then?”

Bella snorted and gave Citrine a sideways look. “If I say no, are you going to stop doing... your thing?”

“No,” Citrine said, “there’s more at stake there than my ego, so-”

“Then I am not going to stop, either,” Bella cut in. “I’ve hit on an idea, and I’m going to see it through. And on that note,” she set off down the hall, “I need to raid the spell component supplies. Care to join me?”

Citrine thought over her mental list of necessary items for the portal. She’d discovered the previous night that the remains of the old mirror were still in storage, and while some things could be salvaged and pieced back together, most of what she’d found was too shattered or burnt up and needed to be replaced. Citrine shook her head. “Thanks,” she said, “but I doubt Twilight just keeps everything I’m going to need. I’ll be heading out.”

Bella shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

If asked to describe the Diamond Quarter of Ponyville, those with only a passing familiarity with the small city would say the Diamond Quarter is where one goes to purchase the best locally supplied gems and jewelry, and some might even know that it is situated where the old gem fields and mines were before the urban sprawl began. A resident of Ponyville, however, would point out that the shops you can see from the street are only the tip of the Diamond Quarter, that it also includes an underground cavern network almost large enough to qualify as a separate village. The Diamond Quarter is where the Changelings live, and most – but not all – of them work there as well. Those who have jobs elsewhere are spread evenly enough across the city to moonlight as “couriers,” passing messages through the Hive Mind for a reasonable fee.

The caverns are also home to a small miner pack of Diamond Dogs, although the average pony will likely never see one. The Diamond Dogs prefer to remain in the deepest parts of the caverns, where they can mine gems and expand the dwelling caves in peace and let the Changelings handle the unpleasant business of talking to and trading with ponies. Typically, the Dogs only show themselves a couple times a year to reassure the City Council that yes, they’re quite happy with their lot in life and no, they aren’t feeling subjugated or underprivileged, thank you very much for your concern but this mine cart isn’t going to push itself so either hitch up or get off the tracks.

Beetroot let out an amused buzz at the mental image that had accompanied that fact when Chief Lorekeeper Tea Leaf rattled it off to her as they walked out of the mining area of the caverns. “You can’t fault the ponies for being worried, though,” Beetroot said. “It’s a better response to not understanding another culture than fear or trying to force their own ways onto the Dogs. Has any pony actually taken the ‘hitch up’ option?”

“Once, just last year,” Tea Leaf answered. “A larger earth pony, a stone-cutter by trade if not by name. He slipped into the traces and hauled the cart all the way to the sorting station. Got a few Dogs to reconsider avoiding ponies, but nothing’s come of that yet.”

Beetroot considered that for a few minutes as she and Tea Leaf continued walking. “I don’t see a reason to try and push them,” she decided. “They seem to have happiness to spare for our needs and there are still plenty of gems for them to dig up, so why rush to change things?”

“And with that,” Tea Leaf said, deadpan, “you have succeeded in making no changes whatsoever to any aspect of the Ponyville Hive, Princess.”

“Give me a break,” Beetroot said, rolling her eyes.

“The arrival of a Royal Changeling is supposed to herald-”

I’ve been here for less than a full day, Beetroot snapped over the Hive Mind, where her Royal authority had more force, and I haven’t seen anything that feels wrong. Rest assured, if I do find something, you will all… Her thoughts became muddled as a pony walked out of a side passage ahead of Beetroot and Tea Leaf. It was an orange unicorn mare with a short purple mane styled in randomly sized curly spikes, vivid green eyes, and a cutie mark of a dark purple nine-point starburst underneath a strange burnt-yellow glyph. As she spotted the two Changelings, she gave off a mixture of emotions that Beetroot found strange: relief mixed with discomfort or trepidation.

I recognize her, Beetroot thought. She was at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle yesterday.

Her name is Citrine, the Hive Mind supplied, one of Princess Twilight’s personal students.

“Uh, pardon me...” Citrine paused awkwardly, as if unsure of her own words. “I thought I remembered how to get around down here, but I… think I took a wrong turn? I’m looking for spell-quality gems.” She finished with a hopeful smile that was just a bit bigger than necessary for the emotion.

Beetroot’s eyes widened. “You are lost then, Citrine,” she said. “All the shops are near the main access caves. Come on,” she approached the unicorn and pointed back down the passage, “I’ll show you the way.”

“Thank you, uh,” Citrine paused again, and then did a double-take, staring at Beetroot’s eyes. “Wait… you’re Princess Beetroot, right?” Her anxiety faded to barely perceptible levels when Beetroot nodded. “I thought I recognized your eyes,” Citrine said. “All right then, I’ll accept your help, so long as you’re willing to answer a few questions.”

Beetroot was about to answer when a wave of suspicion came rolling off of Citrine. Beetroot exchanged a quick glance with Tea Leaf. Is she… a problem? Beetroot asked over the Hive Mind. She seemed a bit guarded yesterday, when we first met.

The Hive Mind buzzed for a bit as ‘lings exchanged memories and opinions at lightning speed. Citrine is usually uncomfortable around Changelings, came the consensus, but she does not hate us for what we are.

“Ask away,” Beetroot told Citrine, and started walking down the passageway the unicorn had emerged from.

Citrine walked beside the Royal Changeling, while Tea Leaf followed a few steps behind. They reached a junction before Citrine asked her first question. “Where did you come from, Beetroot?”

“S-sor… what?” Beetroot stammered.

“You called yourself the fifth Princess of the Crystal Hive,” Citrine said, “and while the identification token you supplied backed up that claim, I find it a little odd that up until you arrived, I would have sworn there were only four Changeling Princesses – one each for the Hives in Canterlot, Manehatten, and Las Pegasus and the last acting as an ‘ambassador’ in the Courts of the Two Sisters. Where did you come from all of a sudden?”

“That’z an impertinent queztion!” Tea Leaf said, his irritated voice thick with buzzing undertones. “What buiznezz iz it of yourz-”

“Calm yourself, Lorekeeper,” Beetroot said. She was grateful for his outburst, as it had given her time to process the shock from Citrine’s question, but as Princess she couldn’t let him control the conversation. “I’m sure Citrine is only curious.”

Citrine gave Beetroot a measuring look. She knew just how well a Changeling could read the emotions of other creatures. Oftentimes, they’d know a creature’s emotional state better than the one actually experiencing them, and many were just tactless enough to blurt it all out. Beetroot, though, was downplaying what she had to be reading from Citrine right now. “Sure,” Citrine said, “just curious. Are you going to answer, or what?”

“Of course,” Beetroot said. “We do have an agreement. Aside from the fact that Ponyville is so far from the Crystal Hive that you’d probably never hear about everything that’s happening there, there’s also the fact that we Changelings don’t make a big deal out of our Royals until they’ve done something noteworthy. Back before the rise of Queen Cabbage Patch and the Schism, a new Royal would only be born when the Hive determined that the current Queen was no longer capable of ensuring our survival. The young Royal would be expected to invent a new strategy for collecting love, or create a new social structure.”

“There are five of you Princesses now, though,” Citrine cut in, “and yet, so far as I know, the Changelings are thriving.” She waved a hoof from side to side to emphasize the seeming contradiction.

“We are,” Tea Leaf said, “so much so that if we remained grouped together as a single Hive in one place, discounting Chrysalis’ renegades of course, we’d eventually outgrow the Crystal Empire’s ability to sustain our need for emotional sustenance without harming its citizens. We needed to spread out, establish other Hives subordinate to the Queen’s. That is what the twin Princesses Chard and Kale determined would be their profound Change. They left the Crystal Hive and established the Canterhorn Hive, to great success.”

Citrine’s eyes widened, and then screwed shut as she shook her head. “I am an idiot,” she hissed. Looking back at Beetroot with contrition in her eyes, she asked, “So then, the rest of you Princesses are just continuing that policy?”

“Mostly, yes,” Beetroot said, “but we’re still Royals, so we’re encouraged to… experiment a little in how we run our Hives. And I just arrived, so...”

“Haven’t earned your spot in the histories yet,” Citrine said. “Got it.” She glanced ahead and saw the familiar sight of the underground jeweler and gem shops. “Mind if I ask one more thing?” she asked.

“Shoot,” Beetroot said with a nod.

“Mind telling me why you were a day late in getting here?”

Beetroot chuckled. “Oh,” she said, rolling her eyes, “just train problems. The delays added up so much that I decided to stop in Canterlot and visit with Chard and Kale rather than arrive in Ponyville in the dead of the night.”

“Sensible,” Citrine said, nodding. She looked around at the various small kiosks that had been carved into the cavern walls, and trotted up to one that had leg bands and horn rings on display. Beetroot watched her go with curiosity, since the unicorn had said she was looking for spell gems, and was surprised when Citrine came trotting back carrying a silver leg band set with a large, pale-green stone in her magic. “Here,” Citrine said, floating the band toward Beetroot, “I’m sorry for being such a suspicious idiot.”

“Oh,” Beetroot said, “no, that’s fine. You don’t have to...”

Princess, Tea Leaf cut in over the Hive Mind, I strongly suggest you just accept that. If you don’t, Citrine will just grow more insistent and offer more elaborate gifts. No one has yet discovered her upper limit.

Beetroot gave both the Lorekeeper and the proffered band dubious looks, but plucked the band out of Citrine’s magic with her mouth and twisted to set it on her back. “Your apology is accepted,” she said magnanimously, “unnecessary though it is.”

“Thank you,” Citrine said, relief as clear on her face as in the emotions she exuded. Without another word, she sketched a quick head-bow to Beetroot and turned to trot off toward a gem vendor.

Beetroot cocked her head as she watched the unicorn leave. She is a bit strange, isn’t she? she thought.

They say that Ponyville attracts the crazy ponies, Tea Leaf noted. Just about every pony in the world is crazy, though, and not all in the same way. It probably comes from always being alone in their own heads. He walked up to Beetroot and nodded at the hoof band on her back. Citrine isn’t known for keeping track of the gifts she gives out as apologies, so if you don’t want to keep that…

Beetroot grabbed the band and looked at it closer. While she wasn’t personally knowledgeable about such things, she did pick up from the ‘ling that had sold it to Citrine that it was a high quality piece, and the stone was almost a perfect match for the color of Beetroot’s eyes. “No,” she said, “I think I’ll keep it.”

There is some truth to the adage that the more things change, the more they stay the same. While Ponyville was ever growing in size and population, the border it shared with the Everfree Forest remained where it had always been, and few creatures were willing to risk living so close to those eldritch woods. As a result, there still existed a cozy cottage built to resemble a natural hillock at that edge of Ponyville, enjoying a happy medium between pastoral privacy and proximity to public services. This cottage was the home of a kindly, butter-yellow pony who took it upon herself to care for any wild animals that needed healing and shelter from the dangerous Everfree. On this particular day, the cottage also contained a cyan pegasus with a rainbow-striped mane, as well as the one and only Spirit of Chaos.

Of course, things do change with time. The animal caretaker who owned the cottage was the granddaughter of the original owner, and an earth pony to boot. Posey wore her pink mane and tail long like Fluttershy had, but the presence of a single strawberry-red stripe in both, the trio of pink blossoms that was her cutie mark, and her lack of wings made cases of mistaken identity rare. In the case of the pegasus, the visual similarity to Rainbow Dash was entirely deliberate; Prism dyed his naturally forest-green mane and tail in imitation of the late Wonderbolt Captain, and he took pride in his cutie mark being a tri-colored lightning bolt.

Discord, despite himself, was the same as ever.

While Posey was busy assembling a tray for early afternoon tea in the kitchen, Discord and Prism sat on opposite sides of the coffee table in the front room, giving each other silent, icy looks. The stalemate did not break until Posey came in and set the tray on the table, saying, “I thought we’d start with a simple green tea, and maybe try the more adventurous blends once we’re more comfortable.”

“Uh huh,” Prism said. “If by ‘adventurous,’ you mean something he’s thought up, I think I’ll stick with the ordinary tea.”

“Your loss, Rain-faux,” Discord replied. He waited until Posey took her seat, and then set the teapot into motion with a wave of his lion paw. “I don’t mind starting with something plain,” he continued as the tea poured into three hovering cups at once. “Chaos always has a stronger kick when it comes after an appetizer of normalcy.” He grabbed one of the teacups, summoned a cube of sugar into it, and handed it to Posey.

“Thank you,” Posey said. She set the cup down and waited as Discord prepared his own cup… and left the third floating where it was, out of Prism’s reach, while leaning back and preparing to drink. “Discord,” Posey said with sugar-coated firmness, “it’s not just the two of us today, remember?”

“Oh, you’re right!” Discord exclaimed theatrically. “Silly me, always forgetting such minor details. You know, I nearly left home without my tail tuft this morning.” He plucked the tuft in question off and shook it like a pom-pom, and made no move toward the still-floating teacup.

Prism hopped up and grabbed the teacup, giving Discord a glare as he settled back the ground. “It’s ok,” he said, “I’ll just serve myself.”

Posey sighed. “And here I thought we were off to a good start,” she said. “Discord, Prism,” she gave each a chastising look, “you both agreed to come here today to work out your differences and put a stop to-” A knock at the door interrupted her, and she turned her head to look at it with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Now what?” she asked, starting to get up.

“I’ll get it!” Prism said, launching out of his seat and flying to the door before Posey got all four hooves on the ground. Prism opened the door to reveal Citrine, and the two stared at each other in mild surprise for a second.

“Hey Prism,” Citrine said at last, her eyes drifting up to the pegasus’s mane. “You’re overdue for a touch-up,” Citrine noted.

Prism ran a self-conscious hoof through his mane, which was showing a lot of its natural color at the roots. “I’m aware,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Sorry to interrupt whatever you’re doing,” Citrine said, trying to look past Prism and into the cottage, “but I need to ask your marefriend a real quick question. Won’t take more than a minute.” She finally got a good look over Prism’s shoulder and spotted Discord staring back at her with a measuring look from his seat. “Oh, he’s here,” Citrine said, shoving Prism aside and walking in. “Perfect. There’s something I need to ask of you, Discord, so if you’d-” She cut off with a surprised squeak as Discord suddenly appeared next to her and picked her up.

“You’re always welcome to ask me things,” Discord said, tucking Citrine under one arm and snapping up a door next to the actual front door. “Whether my answers will match your questions though...”

“Discord,” Posey said from her seat, “we’ve only just started, here.”

“Don’t worry, Posey my dear,” Discord said, “I just happened to think of the perfect tea to ease Prism into the ‘adventurous blends,’ so I’m going to step out and get it while also answering Citrine’s question. Two birds in one bush, as they say.” He opened the new door and carried Citrine through it into his chaotic pocket dimension.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” Posey muttered.

“Unbelievable,” Prism said, returning to his chair and sitting down while giving the conjured door a sideways glower. “Honestly Posey, I don’t get why you do it. Just because your grandma tamed Discord doesn’t mean you’re responsible for keeping him in check now.”

Posey took a slow sip of her tea before responding. “I’m not Discord’s friend out of obligation,” she said. “All Grandma ‘Shy ever said on the matter was that if I moved in and took over the animal sanctuary, I’d probably have to keep reminding Discord that I’m not her. I’m friends with Discord because I like him. He’s hard to predict and more than a little dense about social graces, but he’s also very witty and entertaining.”

“Entertaining,” Prism scoffed. “Sure, maybe when he likes a pony his antics will be ‘all in good fun,’ but he doesn’t like me. First time I tried putting on a little air show in town, he sent a flock of geese after me! At least I think they were geese.”

Posey thought back to the event. “As I recall,” she said, “you handled it quite well. You got past the shock quickly enough and completed a full routine without more than a couple bites. That speaks well to your ability to think under pressure, and I’m sure that’s something the Wonderbolts would appreciate.”

Prism’s sour expression smoothed out into a smile. “Good point,” he said, but then frowned again. “Still, I doubt Discord had that in mind when he conjured them up.”

Posey pursed her lips and set her teacup down. “Well, I’ll admit you might not get an admission one way or the other now,” she said, “but I’ve found the best way to deal with Discord misbehaving is to confront him about it directly and as quickly as possible. Let him know what your boundaries are, and be honest if he does do something that amuses you. He does get discouraged when his audience doesn’t appreciate his hi-jinks, even if he doesn’t show it right away.” She reached out to put her hoof on Prism’s. “Please give him a chance,” she said. “I don’t like to see the two most important fellows in my life not getting along with each other.”

Prism grit his teeth, but upon catching the look in Posey’s soft, green eyes, he relented with a sigh. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll try.”

Upon passing through the door, Discord carried Citrine into what looked to be a sitting room turned on its side, with a sofa, rug, and coffee table sitting on a wall and an eight-pointed chandelier sticking out the opposite wall at a perfect right angle to the prevailing gravity. Discord set Citrine on the end of the sofa and then flew through a sideways door into an upside-down kitchen. “Make yourself, comfortable,” the draconequus said, “this may take a minute. I never bother to remember where I put anything.”

“Please,” Citrine said, rolling her eyes, “as if you can’t just have whatever you want at your claw tips in a snap.”

Discord’s head reappeared in the doorway, disapproval clear on his face. “Well, if you want to be sensible about things, yes,” he said. “But,” he slid back out of sight, leaving behind a single eagle talon to waggle at Citrine, “you rather rudely interrupted the tea party Posey went to so much trouble to charm me and that colt with the Rainbow Dash fetish into attending at the same time, so-”

“Ah,” Citrine said with a sly smirk, “I get it. You’re just using me to buy more time to figure out how to avoid making nice with Prism without ruining your friendship with Posey.”

Discord blinked back into the sitting room, a box of tea bags held in the crook of one arm. “Look at you,” he deadpanned, “assuming the worst of me. If I wanted someone to criticize me in my own home, I’d make a facsimile of your dad, or just do it myself.” A second Discord wearing glasses and a necktie appeared in the kitchen doorway momentarily, giving a thumbs-up before disappearing.

“Hey, I was willing to wait until you had a free moment,” Citrine pointed out. “You’re the one who decided we were doing this now. And since you seem to have found your tea, can I ask-”

“No need,” Discord said, cutting Citrine off with an upraised paw. “I know exactly what you’re after.”

“Wh… How?” Citrine exclaimed.

“I have my ways,” Discord said, grimly. “And the answer is no, I am not going to help you.”

“Why not?” Citrine asked.

“Because,” Discord replied, “if you keep chasing after this obsession you’ll only bring chaos and suffering, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

Citrine snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “And even if you did, I thought chaos was your thing.”

Discord loomed high over the unicorn, staring down at her without so much as a hint of his usual smug playfulness in his face or posture. “I have put a lot of effort into marketing myself as the insane, powerful, yet harmless trickster,” he said, “but that image hangs by a thread. I am not going to risk it by enabling you to court disaster chasing a pipe dream. Goodbye, Citrine.” He picked her up in one hand and dropped her through a hole that suddenly appeared in the floor.

Citrine landed softly by the road to Posey’s house, her head spinning slightly from the quick but disorienting tumble through chaos space. “Ugh,” she moaned, getting to her hooves, “Fine,” she sneered up at the sky, “be that way then. I’m the inheritor of Meis Thamule, master weaver of magic! I can just find a way around the extra-dimensional catalyst.” She turned about sharply in the direction of Ponyville proper and marched off with her head held high.

Chapter 5: Interference

Although he no longer lived in the castle, Spike still considered it one of his responsibilities to keep the place clean. While there were janitors on staff for the library wing and the resident Royal Guards and chefs looked after their own living quarters and the kitchen, there was still a lot of castle to that needed looking after and very little spare time in Spike’s schedule between running the library, advising Twilight during Court, and helping Sweetie Belle look after their own house. After several failed attempts to convince Twilight to hire a live-in staff of maids, Spike had decided the next best thing would be to round up some students from the School of Friendship who wanted to earn a little spending money in exchange for a few hours of cleaning work on the weekend.

In the early afternoon of the day before the day when Citrine and Bella’s contest was scheduled to end, Spike was engaging in the weekly cleaning chores with three assistants. Two of them were griffons, Gilderoy and Gustaf by name, and experienced enough that they focused more on checking the hallway ceiling for cobwebs than on Spike, who was giving instructions to the third and newest cleaner, Mandible the Changeling, who was currently in charge of the rolling mop bucket.

“This hall sees the most foot traffic,” the dragon was saying, “so we save mopping it for last, once we’ve got rid of all the rest of the dirt and dust.”

“Understood,” Mandible said.

The group came to the double doors of the Map room and Spike motioned for a stop. Once the griffons had landed, ready for their assignments, Spike said, “We’ll start here. I’ll dust the thrones while Gilderoy cleans the table and Gustaf the chandelier. Be careful with the memory crystals up there, Gustaf. They’re irreplaceable.”

“I know,” Gustaf said, rolling his eyes wearily. “You say that every week, Mr. Spike.”

“Hey,” Spike said, “I just know that the one time I forget to give that warning, some creature will break something, so put up with it. Mandible, you’re on mop duty.”

“Understood,” Mandible said, pushing the mop bucket up to the doors. She pushed them open with a pulse of magic, and found herself staring at gigantic, snarling bear with blueish fur peppered with starlight spots. Mandible shrieked and tripped backward into the mop bucket. Spike moved quickly, pulling the Changeling and bucket back and then taking a protective stance between the Ursa Minor and his assistants, wings spread wide and chest expanding as he readied a blast of fire.

“Whoa!” Bella exclaimed, appearing suddenly under the Ursa’s head and waving her front legs frantically. “Don’t flame it, Spike! I don’t know how it’ll react to fire!”

Spike hesitated, confused, and in that moment he realized the Ursa hadn’t moved so much as a muscle and that Bella’s horn was glowing brightly with the effort of maintaining a spell. He let most of his breath out slowly and with only a hint of smoke, and then slowly asked, “What are you doing, Bella?”

Bella let out a relieved sigh as she dropped to all fours and put out her horn. The Ursa vanished in a puff of sparkling mist, revealing that the Map room was in perfectly normal condition, aside from a web of gemstones and metal wire laid out on the Map table. “I was spell-crafting,” Bella said simply.

“Ah, your secret project. I should have guessed,” Spike said, shaking his head and smiling. “So that was just an illusion of an Ursa Minor, then?”

“Kinda-sorta,” Bella said, poking her head out into the hall and looking around. “Princess Twilight’s not around, is she?”

“No,” Spike said.

“Ok, good,” Bella said brightly. “I’d hate to have accidentally spoiled my project for her.” She gave the dragon a serious look. “Promise not to tell her anything, and I’ll happily explain.”

Spike glanced over his shoulder to see that the griffons had managed to extract Mandible from the mop bucket with minimal spillage, and all three were looking intrigued. “Sure thing, Bella,” he said. “My lips are sealed.”

“Awesome,” Bella said, waving the group in. “What I’m doing,” she explained once everyone was inside and the doors were closed, “is trying to create illusions that affect more than just the eyes and ears of observers. Regular illusions don’t have any substance if you try to touch them, but these ones… Here, let me demonstrate with something a bit smaller.” Her horn lit up and she narrowed her eyes in concentration until a toy-sized Ursa Minor materialized on the table in front of the group. “If you touch it,” Bella said, relaxing her face but keeping her horn lit, “it will feel solid. Go on,” she urged, “but be gentle please.”

Gilderoy tentatively reached out and poked the tiny Ursa with a talon, and his eyes widened. “It does feel like it’s really there,” he said.

Spike bent down to look at the illusion closer. “It looks so realistic, too,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a life-like Ursa Minor illusion, Bella. Not even from your grandmother.”

Bella blushed. “R-really?” she stammered, before forcing a cough to try and regain her composure. “I-it may look life-like, but the spell isn’t perfect yet. If you try to physically pick up or move the illusion, it gets… weird.”

“Weird how?” Gilderoy asked, giving the Ursa a firm nudge. The illusion’s body shot off toward the far wall at an insane speed, its legs and neck stretching as the feet remained in place and the head started flying straight up while spinning like a drill bit. “Wagh!” Gilderoy squawked, jumping back.

“Weird like that,” Bella deadpanned, cutting off her magic and letting the grotesque illusion dissipate. “Well, that exact reaction is a new one, but they’re generally like that. I need to figure out why that happens and how to prevent it, or make sure nopony tries to touch anything during my presentation to Princess Twilight.”

“What are the gems for?” Mandible asked.

“Those are just to help me maintain multiple illusion creatures at once or make extra-large ones. I was testing how big of a creature I could make using them when you came in. Which is also why I’m in here and not the room I usually work in and-” she gasped suddenly and quickly cast her magic over the web of gems, dismantling it and packing the parts into a box she levitated out from under the table as she babbled, “And it’s cleaning day and I’m in your way! Sorry. I’ll be gone in just a minute.”

Spike grit his teeth as he watched Bella taking her gem web apart. “You don’t have to...” he protested weakly.

“Oh, I can put it back together easily,” Bella said, closing the box and carrying it to the doors. “I’ve probably spent more time than I should have on testing the size limits, anyway. Have fun cleaning, everyone!”

A moment of silence hung over Spike and his assistants following Bella’s exit, and then Spike folded his arms and said, “Well, you heard her. Let’s get to work.”

Bella trotted through the castle halls in good spirits, humming tiny bits of happy melodies as she went. She had thoroughly enjoyed showing off her project, even if it was far from perfect, and Spike’s comments had made her even happier. A better Ursa illusion than Grandma Trixie, she thought. She’ll be so proud to hear that, after she’s done making a show of being upset. And maybe Penny- She stopped short as she came to the door of her room and was nearly run over by Citrine making a rapid exit.

“Watch it, Lulamoon!” Citrine snapped, trying to tuck the small box she was levitating out of sight.

“Sorry,” Bella said insincerely, quirking an eyebrow. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I’m a bit short on time to get the portal working,” Citrine said.

“But our deadline isn’t until tomorrow,” Bella said, head cocked to the side. “Did you lose track of the days, or have you bitten off more than-”

Citrine cut her off with an impatient noise. “It’s cleaning day,” she said, “which gives me a very small window of time to do some very complex magic before Spike and his crew get to my workroom and possibly ruin everything. Now out of my way; I’ve wasted enough time already.” She brushed past Bella and galloped away, leaving Bella frowning in concern.

She’s not enjoying this as much as I am, Bella thought as she entered the bedroom. She set her box of gems and wire on her bed, opened it up, and dug through the contents. Naturally, I buried my notes at the bottom of all this, she grumbled to herself before managing to extract the papers. Turning away from her bed, she started to consult her notes when something on Citrine’s bed caught her eye. It was a book, bound in a plain white cover with a title done in Princess Twilight’s horn-writing: Successful Experiments in New Magic.

“This must be what Citrine’s working from,” Bella mused, levitating the book up. “Did she forget to take it with her?” She started to carry it toward the door, but paused after a few steps as a strong wave of curiosity struck her. Bringing the book into a comfortable reading position, Bella went to lay down on her bed as she flipped through the pages. “This project does seem to be causing her a lot of stress,” Bella justified to herself, “so I really should make sure she hasn’t taken on something that will end up hurting her. She’d do the same for me. Probably.”

Bella flipped through the book quickly until she came to the chapter about the Taryn Portal, and her breath caught in her throat as she read the first lines: This project involved extreme risk and the application of ancient magics we still barely understand. Attempts to replicate it should not be undertaken by anypony without a thorough understanding of the underlying theory and a perfect familiarity with the intended destination. DO NOT ATTEMPT without assistance, ideally in the form at least one other alicorn and two unicorns equal in ability to Starlight Glimmer or Ashen Blaze.

With those discouraging words flitting through her head, Bella skimmed through the rest of the chapter. Most of the technical words passed right over her head, but her eyes seemed to pick out every single word of warning and reminder of danger buried in the text. The section detailing the method of breaching the universe boundary opened with a long paragraph that was nothing but examples of the potential disastrous consequences of getting the spell wrong.

Bella slammed the book shut, mouth gone dry with fear, and looked at the bedroom door, silently willing Citrine to return for the book and its essential warnings. The door remained closed. “This is bad,” Bella said, leaping for the door, the book held magically secure against her back, “this is very very bad. Citrine, you…” She burst through the door and galloped down the hall, heading for Princess Twilight’s study and determined to let nothing stand in her way.

Five minutes later, Bella was charging through the halls at breakneck speed again, this time with Twilight and Pesci following. The Princess would have taken the lead, except that she didn’t know exactly where they were going; only Bella and Citrine knew which room the other had selected for working on their respective projects, and that only so they wouldn’t try and set up in the same space. Twilight was carrying Successful Experiments in her magic, her expression so grave Bella was amazed the alicorn’s mane hadn’t started defying gravity from the suppressed rage. Whereas Celestia and Luna sported ethereal manes constantly as part of their public image, Twilight chose to only display the effect when she needed to make a point. In Bella’s opinion, this was an opportune moment for that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner, Princess,” Bella said. “Believe me, I didn’t realize how dangerous trying to make a portal to another world was, or I’d have tried to stop Citrine from doing it.”

“And maybe I shouldn’t have been so free with my private books,” Twilight replied, her voice surprisingly free of anger despite the look on her face. “We can argue about who’s to blame for what later, Bella. Right now, let’s just focus on stopping Citrine before she cracks all of reality open, or worse.”

Bella was still trying to imagine a worse fate than destroying all of reality when she and Twilight reached Citrine’s workroom. Bella gripped the doorknob in her magic, only to be stopped by Twilight’s upraised hoof. “We have to be careful,” the Princess said. “If we interfere with her at the wrong moment, we might not be able to get the magic back under control.” Bella nodded and turned the knob slowly, then screamed when the door flew open with a sharp, sudden rush of air.

A large, jagged, infinitely black absence hung in the center of the room, its bottom edge a little over a hoof above the floor. Behind the hole was a tall free-standing mirror, its frame wrapped in gold wire and gems, rocking slightly as all the air swirled about, spiraling toward the hole from all angles. Citrine was dangerously close to the hole, her mane whipping about in the wind as she struggled not to be pulled in.

“Grab her!” Twilight ordered, seizing Pesci just as the floating computer got caught up by the swirling wind. Bella obediently reached out and grabbed Citrine around the withers with her magic, backing up to brace against the hallway wall as she pulled. Twilight threw Pesci down the hall, out of the vortex’s grip, and added her telekinesis to Bella’s until Citrine was almost to the door. The Princess’s mane lengthened and began to flutter as she boldly approached the jagged hole, igniting her horn and muttering under her breath. As Bella reached out a hoof to help Citrine through the doorway, Twilight released her magic in a magenta bolt that was simply swallowed up by the void. Grimacing, Twilight ignited her horn again and cast a different spell, weaving a dome of light to enclose the void and the mirror. The air stilled instantly once the dome was sealed, but Twilight kept concentrating and layering spells into it for a full minute longer.

Citrine sat down hard, gasping and staring blankly ahead at the hole in reality that she’d made. Bella sat down next to her and carefully reached out to touch her. “You ok?” Bella asked.

Citrine blinked slowly, sending a couple tears down her cheeks. “I...” she croaked. “Bella, I almost… Thank y-”

“Citrine!” Princess Twilight Sparkle whirled about to glare the unicorn, her mane and tail still flowing out behind her like dark blue smoke. “What in Equestria were you thinking?!”

“I...” Citrine muttered, quailing. “I just wanted to...”

“You could have been killed!” Twilight exclaimed. “Opening a hole to the void between universes without a clear goal. Unbelievable!”

Some of the shock wore off Citrine’s face. “I had a goal,” she said. “I was trying to connect to Taryn.”

A brief look of pity crossed Twilight’s features, but the anger returned quickly. “You’ve never been to Taryn,” she said, “have you? Ash did say he wanted to take you there to visit once or twice, but I don’t recall that he ever did.”

“No,” Citrine said, “but I was following your instructions, so-”

“These instructions?” Twilight asked, producing the Completed Experiments book. “The instructions that very clearly start with a warning not to try this alone? The instructions you left in your room while you were punching holes in the fabric of reality?!”

Pesci had returned by this point and had floated past Twilight to get a closer look at the hole and the barrier. It chose this moment to try and interject something. “Princess Twilight.”

“Not now, Pesci,” Twilight said shortly. “Well, Citrine?”

Citrine averted her eyes. “Ok,” she said, “maybe I didn’t take the warnings seriously enough, but at least you got here in time. Maybe,” she gave the Princess a weak, hopeful smile, “now that you and Bella are here to… to help...” She trailed off and dropped her gaze in shame as Twilight’s frown only grew sterner.

“Even if I were willing to help you finish this,” Twilight said, “it would be impossible. Nopony here knows Taryn well enough to find an anchor point for the portal there from here. The only reason we pulled it off the first-”

“Princess Twilight,” Pesci said, louder and more insistent than before, “you need to turn around.”

“What, Pesci?” Twilight snapped, turning to glare at the floating computer.

“Something is coming out of the hole,” Pesci replied.

Chapter 7: Invasion

Foxglove was a well-known face in the Diamond Quarter. A large portion of her business was designing outfits that complemented Changeling jewelry pieces her clients owned, so she spent a lot of time down in the caves looking for companion pieces and staying abreast of the newest designs, as well as buying loose gems for more conventional purposes. She was a little surprised, therefore, to see a Changeling stop and stare at her in wonder as she approached one of her favorite gem vendors just inside the caverns. Foxglove stopped as well and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Oh!” the Changeling said with a start, averting her gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, but I’ve never seen a...”

“Dracony,” Foxglove supplied, and then realized that the Changeling’s eyes weren’t the typical flat blue. “You’re the new ‘ling Princess, aren’t you?” she asked. “Beetroot?” Beetroot gave her a surprised nod. “Your eyes give you away,” Foxglove explained, smirking, “and my cousin’s told me a little about you.”

“Cousin?” Beetroot’s head tilted with confusion, but then her eyes filled with comprehension a second later. “Oh, duh, you must be Foxglove, then.”

“The one and only,” Foxglove confirmed. She crossed one clawed leg in front of the other and bowed. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Oh please,” Beetroot said, clearly embarrassed, “don’t bow. We Changelings don’t really stand on much formality. Just call me Beetroot.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Foxglove replied, straightening up.

Beetroot started to protest, but then she caught the sense of teasing amusement coming off the dracony. “Anyway,” she said, “I really didn’t mean to disturb you, Foxglove. I’ve been told about you, of course, but the images I can get from the Hive Mind just don’t compare to seeing you for myself, and… I’ll just go before I make this any more awkward.”

Foxglove reached out and grabbed the Changeling’s shoulder before she could turn away. “You’re curious,” Foxglove said, “and that’s fine. I’ve been getting looks like the one you were giving me my whole life, and there are only two ways I can deal with that. I choose to enjoy the opportunities it gives me to make connections, because trying to avoid the attention would just be exhausting. Come on,” she nodded toward the store she’d been heading to, “ask me whatever’s on your mind while I do my shopping.” Beetroot started to say something, but then paused as something came to her through the Hive Mind, and then just nodded instead.

Foxglove led Beetroot into the store and approached the Changeling at the counter. “What do you have in sapphire cabochons today, Elytrum?” Foxglove asked.

The Changeling clerk levitated out a tray from beneath the counter and set it on top. “Not much unless you’re ok with less than two carats,” he said.

“I’d heard the Diamond Dogs found a good lode of sapphire just the other day, though,” Foxglove said, sorting through the stones on the tray with a frown.

“Oh, they did,” Elytrum, deadpan. “A real good lode; almost nothing anyling’s willing to consign to the humble cabochon cut yet.”

Foxglove arched an eye-ridge. “Sounds like I might be getting more commissions soon, then,” she said. She lined up several stones along her side of the tray and said, “Luckily, it looks like you have exactly what I need today, at least. I’ll also take a bag of diamond dust – any color – and a snack bag if you’ve got one.”

Elytrum chuckled as he gathered Foxglove’s selections into a velvet bag and brought out a small box and a plain cloth bag to accompany it. “You know I’ve always got your ‘snack bags,’” he said.

“And that’s why I always come here,” Foxglove returned.

Beetroot watched quietly as the dracony and clerk discussed prices, and then followed Foxglove outside after she’d paid. “What’s in the ‘snack bag’?” Beetroot asked.

Foxglove smiled as she opened the cloth bag and pulled out a tiny chip of ruby. “It’s just the bits that get removed to improve a gem’s cut,” she explained. “I can’t bite through or chew gems like a dragon, but I can suck on them like hard candy.” She popped the chip into her mouth. “I prefer these little cast-offs because full gems take way too long to...” She trailed off as she saw a distant, worried expression suddenly cross Beetroot’s face. A quick look around showed a similar look on the three other Changelings who happened to be nearby. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Of course-” Beetroot started to snap before remembering that Foxglove wasn’t part of the Hive Mind. With a grim frown, she explained, “The School of Friendship is being evacuated through the... tunnels? The School has underground tunnels?”

“It happened to be built over some of the area’s natural caves,” Foxglove said. “The Diamond Quarter-”

“Right, right,” Beetroot said impatiently, “the Hive’s filling me in.”

“Sorry,” Foxglove said. “If they’re evacuating through the tunnels though… How do we get there from here?”

Any word yet on just what is happening up there? Beetroot asked the Hive as she, Foxglove, and a half a dozen Changelings ran through the caverns toward where the tunnels under the School of Friendship joined the Diamond Quarter.

Nothing, came a chorus of young mind-voices belonging to those Changelings who were enrolled at the School.

Beetroot started to fret, when a single mind chimed in, The problem is in Princess Twilight’s Castle. I don’t know why the School’s being evacuated.

Details, Mandible, Lorekeeper Tea Leaf demanded before Beetroot could.

One of the Princess’s private students summoned a monster or something by accident, Mandible reported. Some kind of tentacles were tearing through the walls. I don’t know any more than that, sorry. I’m caught up in the crowd running away from the Castle.

“You’re all looking rather grim,” Foxglove said in an affected casual tone, and Beetroot promptly filled her in on what little they’d just learned. To the Changeling Princess’s surprise, Foxglove’s reaction was to relax a little. “Princess Twilight is probably just playing it safe by evacuating the School,” she said. “I’m sure her, Bella, and Citrine will have whatever it is contained soon.”

A black, spiked tentacle striped haphazardly in grey-blue and sickly yellow burst through the roof of the tunnel up ahead and whipped around for several seconds, bringing down a ton of rocks and dirt before digging back upward through one of the walls.

“What was that?” Beetroot and Foxglove exclaimed at once, and then shared frightened looks when they each realized the other didn’t know.

“We have to clear the tunnel,” Foxglove said, leaping forward to starting hauling rocks away. “Quick, before more of those things come!”

“Hold on a second,” Beetroot said, tugging on Foxglove’s tail lightly to get her attention. “We have to do this right, or we’ll just collapse the tunnel more.” Foxglove’s lip curled, but she backed away as the Changelings moved in. Four of them started crawling up the walls, spreading a quick-hardening mucous to form an arching brace for the ceiling. At a mental signal from the builders, Beetroot and the other two Changelings shifted into large burrowing creatures and started clearing away the debris; Foxglove joined them a second later. Dirt flew and rocks were either tossed aside or shoved against the wall for the builders to incorporate into the slowly growing brace, and within a few minutes they’d made it several yards through the debris.

Then, the faint echoes of a new cave-in slowed the work to a crawl, and the Hive Mind went mad with cries for help.

Roof collapse near the upper larder!

Spiky tentacles coming from above!

We’re trapped in the third residential nook!

Beetroot screwed her eyes shut as she tried to sort through all the voices and pinpoint the trouble areas. There were too many, and more kept demanding her attention as the strange tentacles wove in and out through the earth above everyling’s heads. Hold on, she thought, identifying the nearest disaster. She returned to her normal form – the better to run – and started to head off, only to be stopped by a claw gripping her left front leg.

“Where are you going?” Foxglove demanded.

“The whole Quarter’s under attack!” Beetroot replied, trying to pull herself out of the dracony’s grip. “I have to go help!”

“But we still have to clear this,” Foxglove said, waving at the rocks still blocking the tunnel.

“I can’t leave my Hive to-”

Foxglove cut her off by snapping fingers in her face. “Calm down, Princess,” Foxglove said in a quiet but firm tone. “You won’t be doing anyone any favors by panicking. You may be able to hear everything that’s happening, but you can’t physically be everywhere at once, can you?”

“I… of course not,” Beetroot admitted, “but-”

“Then don’t try to be,” Foxglove said. “You’re a Royal Changeling, and as I understand it that means you’re supposed to be the anchor for the Hive Mind; the one everyling looks to for guidance in times like this. So, just calm down and direct them, ok?”

Beetroot was quivering under the strain of the Hive’s fear, but as she looked into Foxglove’s eyes she felt a sense calm flowing into her body. Focusing on the dracony more, Beetroot realized that Foxglove was scared and worried, but was holding those feelings at bay with constructive concern and love for someone who wasn’t present, and she was offering those emotions to Beetroot.

Recalling her tutelage under Queen Cabbage Patch, Beetroot forced her breathing into a slow, deep rhythm that did wonders for quelling her personal fear and clearing her mind. “Thank you, Foxglove,” she said, “I needed that.” She patted the claw gripping her leg and continued, “I’m not going to run off, but I’m probably not going to be much help digging either. Managing everyling is going to require all my attention.”

Foxglove released her grip and smiled. “That’s fine,” she said, and then looked over her shoulder as the sounds of digging suddenly increased.

A hole appeared in the midst of the rubble, and a beam of pale green light shone through. “Hello?” called a voice that instantly caused Foxglove to radiate joy, “Is anypony there?”

“Mom!” Foxglove exclaimed, rushing over to expand the hole enough to see Sweetie Bell through. “Is everyone ok over there?”

“Just a bit dusty,” Sweetie replied. “This old Cutie Maker Crusader’s been through a lot worse.”

“Good,” Foxglove said, relieved. “We’ll get this cleared away in no time, then. Although,” she glanced toward the rest of the Diamond Quarter with a frown, “it’s probably not going to be any easier getting back to the surface...”

General August Blueblood was, in his humble opinion, the first stallion of his line in the last four generations to actually be worthy of claiming descent from Princess Platinum the Founder. Rather than simply coast through life on the worth of his title and the surprisingly self-sustaining pile of bits that came with it, as had every other Blueblood in living memory, August had decided at an early age to treat the legends of his esteemed ancestors as a standard to measure himself against. He had enlisted in the EUP Frontier Guard, not through the fast-track to officer rank, but as a lowly Private. Within a year, he’d attained the rank of Major.

That had prompted a week-long fight with his family until they finally agreed to let him advance purely on his own merits from then on.

On those merits, General Blueblood was now seen as the best example of what the EUP should be. He was frequently and favorably compared to the late Shining Armor, and it was a common joke among his friends that Blueblood just needed to find himself an alicorn to marry to truly match the great Captain.

While Blueblood appreciated the joke for what it was, he had made it crystal clear that it was never to mentioned within earshot of either Princess Twilight Sparkle or Crystal Empress Flurry Heart.

Princess Twilight was on the General’s mind at the moment, which was natural given the abrupt mobilization order that had come down from Above due to her. Such an order couldn’t be fulfilled quickly, but there were already two full companies of the Frontier Guard waiting on the parade grounds alongside a full shift of the Royal Guard (which, despite what the common civilian might think, were two very distinct branches of the EUP). That, General Blueblood decided as he waited for the officers to finish inspections, would have to do for now.

He cut a striking figure: a unicorn of above-average height wearing golden armor whose enchantments were not necessary to help his coat reach the level of whiteness demanded by EUP standards for on-duty officers. His eyes were the color of the most ideal amethyst and betrayed no hint of impatience or anxiety. His cutie mark, hidden by his armor but replicated below the three rank stars on his peytral, was an olive branch crossed over a spear, symbolizing his dedication to seek after peace even if it required war.

At last, the officers of the three companies approached, saluted, and reported that all was in order. He dismissed them to their places with a salute of his own, and then addressed the companies. “I’m sure you’re all aware that we are deploying to Ponyville,” he said. “You may be wondering why, since Ponyville has long been a peaceful area, and Princess Twilight Sparkle has an even longer history of being able to handle disasters there without the assistance of the Guard. Well, I don’t know what we’re being sent into, but given that city’s history it must be bad. Bad enough for Princess Twilight to actually call on us. Bad enough that Princess Celestia asked me to oversee this operation personally. Bad enough that just on Princess Twilight’s word alone the Guard will be bringing in every pony and auxiliary that isn’t engaged in critical operations. We who stand here now are just the vanguard. Our mission to teleport to Ponyville by amulet gate, assess the situation, establish a forward base if necessary, and protect civilian lives until reinforcements come. Is there any confusion about these orders?”

The assembled guards responded in unison, “Sir, no sir!”

General Blueblood waited a few seconds for any dissenting opinions to muster the courage to speak up. When none came, he nodded in satisfaction and ordered, “Activate gates!” In tandem with a half-dozen unicorns among the companies, he removed a special badge from its hook on his shoulder and poured in magic to activate the portal spell inscribed on it. I need to be where Princess Twilight Sparkle is, he thought as the spell took shape and produced a large, swirling blue portal in the air in front of him. Six larger portals formed in front of the waiting companies, and at the General’s signal everypony started marching through at double-time.

Whatever the General had been expecting to find on the other side of the portal, it wasn’t the sight of Ponyville being systematically replaced by a new city of alien towers packed tightly together in perfect, concentric hexagons. Princess Twilight was flying near the border, lancing a beam of pure destructive magic from her horn into a writhing mass of blue- and yellow-striped vines, apparently trying to stop them from weaving together into yet another structure. Two unicorns and the dragon Spike were doing their best to help the Princess by applying liberal amounts of elemental magic, levitated cutting tools, and dragon fire to the black root-like things linking the growing tower to the rest. The vine-root-tentacles were fighting back, lashing about to prevent anyone from being able to hold still and focus on any particular spot, and weaving together rapidly to replace what had been burned away.

General Blueblood took this all in within a second and, without looking at the Guards waiting behind him, pointed and ordered, “Engage!”

The unicorns moved in first, forming a line around the base of the growing building and peppering it with combat spells while politely but firmly pushing the two unicorn mares behind them and out of harm’s way. The orange unicorn protested and tried to continue fighting, but her companion eventually convinced her to fall back and rest. The pegasi flew in then, some to scout the invading city from the sky while the majority engaged the defensive tentacles to keep the spell-slingers safe. What few earth ponies there were among the Guards stayed back, waiting for orders on what ammo to load into their saddle-cannons and where to aim.

Twilight and Spike continued to fight back the growing building alongside the Guard for a couple minutes before disengaging and joining Citrine and Bella in approaching General Blueblood. “About time you guys got here,” Spike said grumpily. “And shouldn’t there be more of you?”

“Reinforcements are already on their way, Sir Spike,” Blueblood said. “This is all I could muster in the short hour since Princess Celestia received your letter.”

“Kalbarant,” Citrine groaned, “has it only been an hour?” She gestured to the sprawling rings of towers. “These things had barely broken out of the castle when Spike sent the letter! Skvetch!” She dropped to her belly, face buried in her forelegs.

Blueblood looked at the towers with growing concern. “If they’ve spread that fast...” he muttered. “Mind if I ask what we’re dealing with here, Princess?” he asked.

“I wish I knew,” Twilight replied. “All I know for certain is that this isn’t anything native to our world, and it seems to spread in perfect rings; it won’t start pushing out again until that last tower there is finished. If only Pesci hadn’t flown off...”

As if summoned, the flying metal pony head flew into view from behind a house and came to a stop in front of Twilight. Its LED eyes were shifted toward the bottom of its display as it said, “My apologies for my absence. It seems that identifying the Krxstiul triggered a panic function that hampered my decision-making algorithms. I managed to end the panic process after alerting a sufficient percentage of the city’s populace. I can at least report that the city is being evacuated.”

General Blueblood eyed Pesci warily. He’d seen the floating computer before, but it was still uncanny how much it resembled a disembodied head. Still, the Princess considered it normal enough, so Blueblood held his tongue.

“Pesci,” Twilight said in clipped tones, “tell us what you know about these… things.”

Pesci bobbed a nod, but hesitated when it turned to look at the black towers. “We are still dangerously close to-”

“Now Pesci,” Twilight snapped. “What is this, and how do we drive it back?”

Pesci’s eyes shifted back to their normal position. “This is a Krxstiul hive,” it said, “or more likely an extension of one of the primary hives. The Krxstiul are a race of creatures from the world of Dormain, located in the sixth universe from Taryn along the Tau’rin Chain. The humans of Dormain consider the Krxstiul to be their mortal enemies, because the Krxstiul seek only to spread themselves across every stretch of arable land and cannot be reasoned with.”

“They can be fought back, though, right?” Citrine asked.

“According to my data,” Pesci said, “which is several decades out of date by now and thus likely completely inaccurate, the Krxstiul occupy roughly one-third of Dormain’s total land and the humans’ primary goal is simply to prevent them from spreading any more. My data on how to combat the Krxstiul is limited, since the Order-naries spent only six months on Dormain and only attempted to enter Krxstiul territory twice in pursuit of the Chaotic Gems.”

Bella noticed that General Blueblood was looking glassy-eyed and slightly slack-jawed. “Hey,” she said, pulling his attention away from Pesci, “are you ok, General?”

Blueblood blinked and tossed his head. “Ahem,” he said, “I… admit I am having difficulty following this explanation. Do we have a chance or not?”

“Not with our current numbers,” Pesci replied, turning to face the fighting Guards. They were putting up a valiant effort, but the walls of the tower farthest from their position had grown more solid and slightly taller. “I hypothesizethat to push the Krxstiul back, we will need to gather enough forces to begin demolishing the hive structures at multiple points before the hive reaches stage-one critical mass.”

“What happens at ‘stage-one critical mass’?” Blueblood asked.

Pesci’s answer was drowned out by a sudden chorus of high-pitched shrieks from the depths of the Krxstiul hive. The Guards fell back from their assault on the growing tower, hooves pressed against their flattened ears as the shrieks grew closer, louder, and more numerous. The weaving vines quickly finished their task, and the new tower began pulsating. Within seconds, as the shrieking reached a pitch that caused Blueblood’s vision to start swimming, something inside the tower added its voice to the alien chorus.

Kriiiixxx

Kriiiiixxx

Kriiiiiiiiixst

Posey stepped out of her shower and shook the water from her coat before wrapping her damp mane up in a fresh towel. It felt like it had taken over an hour to feel clean after the morning she’d had tending to the newest residents of the animal sanctuary. “I’ll have to make a note,” she said as she stepped out into her upstairs hallway, “to never let salamanders anywhere near the borogrove pond again.” She heaved a sigh upon reaching the stairs. “I’m going to need help cleaning everything. Prism will be willing, of course. I wonder if I’d be able to drag Bella or Citrine out...” She trailed off as spotted something odd out of the corner of her eye. Backing up, she looked out her window and saw that the sky was not blue. She couldn’t say what color it was, but it was certainly not the normal blue, and the horizon was a lot closer to her house than it had any right to be.

“Discord,” Posey said flatly. She felt a little guilty about immediately jumping to that conclusion, but there really wasn’t any other possible explanation. Removing the towel from her mane and tossing it onto the couch, Posey stepped out her front door to get a better look at whatever Discord was up to.

Posey’s cottage and the surrounding yard, up to and including the rabbit hutch and chicken coop, was floating in the chaotic void of the pocket dimension Discord called home. Off to Posey’s left, linked to the cottage yard by a twisting bridge, was the entirety of the animal sanctuary, appearing to be upside down from Posey’s perspective but subject to a different gravity than the cottage, since nothing she could see there looked to be in danger of falling off. Near the helix bridge, Discord was reclining on a mauve pool chair with a large bowl of what might be popcorn and looking at a large wooden box with a glass screen.

Discord seemed to be amused by the box, or whatever was inside it, but Posey paid it no mind as she marched over to him, parked herself in front of the box, and asked, “What is going on, Discord?”

“Posey!” Discord replied with a broad smile. With a snap of his claw, he conjured up a second, smaller pool chair next to his. “Your timing is perfect,” he said, moving her onto the chair with his tail, “I think we’re about to get our first real look at the monsters! Cotton ball?” He held out the bowl to her.

“No thanks,” Posey said. She bit back her impatience, recalling her grandmother’s “rules” for managing the draconequus. The most relevant one was that it was a lot easier to get a straight answer from Discord if you played along with his current game a little first. She settled into her seat and looked at the box Discord was watching. The screen showed a pegasus-eye view of Ponyville’s north side, except that everything from Princess Twilight’s Castle to the edge of Carousel Boutique Neighborhood had been replaced by a hexagonal web of black, chitinous towers. “What are we watching?” Posey asked.

“What happens when a certain too-smart-for-her-own-good unicorn goes forward with a plan that even I told her was a bad idea,” Discord answered. He stuck some cotton balls in his mouth and grimaced. “Bleh, needs some gin.”

“Discord,” Posey began, determined not to get sidetracked.

“One second,” Discord cut her off. He stretched his arm out and turned a dial on the box, and the view zoomed in close to where a number of Royal Guards were retreating from one of the towers. “I think this is it,” Discord said excitedly.

Sure enough, a large number of creatures suddenly charged out from among the towers. Clad in the same blue- and yellow-striped chitin as the structures, they had been all but invisible until emerging onto the Ponyville streets. At first glance, they looked like spiny spiders nearly the size of a pony, but as Discord dialed the view in closer and the Guard ponies engaged them, it became clear they had no relation to arachnids. For starters, they had five legs rather than eight – three in back that propelled them forward in erratic hops and mighty leaps and two in front that had long, serrated pincers that ended in sharp points. Their heads, the top halves of which consisted of a single dome-shaped compound eye, sat above rather than in line with the rest of their bodies and had fanged, dripping mouths more fit for a mammalian predator than any insect Posey had ever seen. No sound came from Discord’s viewing box, but judging by the pained angles of everypony’s ears, Posey guessed the monsters were making rather unpleasant noises.

Many of the monsters pounced at the Guard ponies and those with them – Princess Twilight, Spike, Citrine, and Bella – trying to pin their targets down or, failing that, to catch and break legs before plunging their fangs toward the pony’s backs. The Guard’s armor managed to protect them from the bites, and the creatures weren’t able to leap high enough to catch Twilight, Spike, or any pegasus, but Bella and Citrine were lacking either of those protections and had to keep dodging around to keep an armored Guard pony between them and the creatures.

Not all of the things stood and fought, though. About one in four broke around the melee and spread out through Ponyville, on the hunt.

“Discord,” Posey said, voice quivering, “is this real? Are we watching something that’s happening right now?!”

“I wish I were making this up,” Discord answered.

Posey surged to her hooves. “Then why are you just sitting here?” she demanded. “Do something!”

“I did do something,” Discord pointed out, gesturing to Posey’s house and the animal sanctuary. “I moved you and all the animals you’re taking care of well out of harm’s way. I also cleared away that mess around the borogrove pond for you.”

“I… Ok, thank you,” Posey said, “but surely you can do more to help.”

“I’d love to,” Discord said, sounding less than sincere, “but when things like this happen, I tend to be the first one every creature blames for it. I’d spend more time defending my honor than actually doing any good.”

Posey pouted and pondered for a bit until she came up with the perfect counter-argument. “But you said this was the fault of a too-smart-for-her-own-good unicorn. Did you mean Citrine? Is this what she wanted to talk to you about a few days ago?”

“Got it in one,” Discord said, slightly disgruntled.

Posey hid a smirk, suspecting that Discord had already figured out where she was going. She pressed on anyway so as not to leave any ambiguity that he could use. “So, if this is Citrine’s fault,” she said, “then Princess Twilight already knows that and won’t let anypony point hooves at you. Besides,” she gave Discord her most charming smile, “why settle for just being my hero when you could a hero to the whole city by, I don’t know, saving creatures from those monsters that didn’t stop to fight the Guard?”

Discord’s sour expression vanished when Posey said the word “hero,” and by the time she’d finished speaking he had a scheming smile on his face. “A hero to the whole city, you say?” He banished his bowl of cotton balls with a snap and sprang upright. “I like the sound of that.” He snapped again and both he and Posey were dressed in garishly bright spandex costumes with pictures of their faces embroidered on the chests. “Come, Filly Wonder,” Discord said while striking a dramatic pose, “to the Chaos-boat!”

“Hold on-” Posey started to protest, but Discord paid her no heed as he changed the pool chairs into a rowboat, placed himself and Posey inside, and then launched the boat through a portal to Ponyville.

A rainbow-striped shape flew through the skies over Ponyville, but for once no one stopped to regard it with fond or nostalgic smiles. The city was emptying, and the first wave of Krxstiul drones had dealt a harsh blow to the morale of the Guard.

Having to fight for one’s survival was not an unknown condition in Equestria, even in this era of Friendship shared between all the known lands. The Frontier Guard was well-known (at least by those who bothered to learn the difference between it and the Royal Guard) for bravely facing the largest and most dangerous monsters that lurked in the wild areas near Equestria’s borders on a regular basis, but even they were not accustomed to dealing out death. The guiding philosophy of war in Equestria, and indeed most of the “civilized” world, was to break the enemy’s will to fight and convince their leaders to consider negotiation instead. The Guard fought not kill, but to wound, incapacitate, and capture or drive off those who would threaten the lives of ponies or their allies.

The Krxstiul were not particularly tough to hurt; their chitin provided little appreciable protection against spear-thrusts and kicks, they proved to be as vulnerable to the Guard’s standard combat spells as any normal-sized unarmored foe, and they were easily blinded by covering their single compound eye with adhesive gels. They displayed no group tactics, with each drone simply going after the closest non-Krxstiul they saw. And yet, no matter how many wounds they suffered or how often they were sent flying through the air back toward their territory, the Krxstiul would not break until they were all unable to move.

And more of them kept showing up, with several slipping past the main fighting in pursuit, presumably, of more ponies to attack.

When the first set of Guard reinforcements arrived, General Blueblood had sent one soldier back to Canterlot to emphasize the need for as much horsepower as possible, along with a formal request for military aid to every ally of Equestria. Then, setting the fresh faces to relieve those on the front line, the General had called for a withdrawal to a more defensible position. Princess Twilight and her talking metal pony head hadn’t been happy about just giving up ground to the Krxstiul, but they couldn’t argue with the numbers.

The defenders had set up their base in front of City Hall, declining the Mayor’s offer to set up inside in case they needed to pull out quickly. That was where Prism had found them and volunteered to help. Both General Blueblood and Princess Twilight had accepted the offer without hesitation and sent Prism to the west side of town in search of a certain Creature of Interest.

When Prism returned to the base, he was alone. He alighted near to where Twilight and Blueblood were conferring over a large map of Ponyville that was in the process of being covered by little tiles. Bella and Citrine were casting transformation spells on a pile of pebbles to produce more tiles as the Princess or Blueblood called for them. Most of the tiles were flat black hexagons, representing the Krxstiul structures that were slowing replacing the original Ponyville buildings. From the looks of things, the creation of a new ring of towers was already well underway.

Neither Twilight nor Blueblood noticed Prism’s arrival right away, but he had their full attention when he blurted out, “Posey’s house is gone.”

“Gone?!” the Princess exclaimed. Her eyes snapped back to the map and she started measuring distances frantically. “But that doesn’t fit the pattern of expansion that we’ve observed! If the Krxstiul aren’t conforming to the expanding ring pattern anymore, then-”

“It wasn’t the Krxstiul,” Prism cut in. “I didn’t even see any of the drones near there. Posey’s cottage is just gone, like something scooped it and the yard right up and moved it somewhere else. Her animal sanctuary is missing too.”

Princess Twilight blinked at Prism in bewilderment for a moment, and then most of the tension fled from her face as she rolled her eyes. “Oh,” she said, “I’d bet anything that’s Discord’s handiwork, then. He saw what was coming and got Posey and her charges out of harms’ way.”

“Yeah, I kinda suspected the same,” Prism said, sourly. “That’s typical for him, isn’t it? Big trouble strikes, and he just disappears before anypony can ask him to actually help.”

“Only if it was his fault in the first place, usually” Spike corrected, “and even then, he’s never been able to resist popping in to brag or heckle us.”

“So,” General Blueblood asked, “should we continue to search for him, or just wait him out?”

Twilight thought. “I do have a spell that will summon him from wherever he’s hiding,” she said, “but without the Elements of Harmony, it takes a lot of time to cast, and Discord always gets a bit belligerent when someone forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She shook her head. “No, it’s not that urgent yet,” she concluded.

“Anything else you need from me then, Princess?” Prism asked, standing at attention. If not, he thought, then I’m scouring the length of breadth of Ponyville for that-

“Has anyone heard anything from the Diamond Quarter yet?” Bella asked.

Twilight’s eyes bugged out. “No!” she realized. “The School evacuation!” She looked around the square frantically, then turned to Prism. “Prism,” she said, “go find me a Changeling, any Changeling! I need to know if the students are ok!”

“Aye aye,” Prism said with a salute.

“Can you look for Foxglove while you’re at it?” Citrine asked just before the pegasus took off. “I think she was gem shopping today, but...”

Prism gave Citrine a reassuring smile. He didn’t know Foxglove all that well, but there was no mistaking her in a crowd. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he promised, and then leaped into the sky.

Prism stayed high and flew in a zig-zag pattern as he worked his way to the east, keeping an eye out for Changelings or trouble. To the north, blue lights flashed as more and more Guard companies arrived, racing to create a complete defensive line before the Krxstiul hive completed the latest ring and began pushing outward again. A mist was starting to form from the center of the hive, blurring the details on the innermost rings of towers. Several Pegasus Guards and a couple wings of Griffon Knights (by far the quickest of Equestria’s allies to respond to the cry for help) were flying in patterns over the Krxstiul territory, but none had yet worked up the courage to attempt to attack any of the structures. The remainder of the fliers were combing Ponyville for Krxstiul drones, swooping down to try and drive any they found back toward the hive. Strangely, although Prism saw a few such fights, he saw no sign of any civilians, in danger or otherwise. The order to evacuate Ponyville had come swiftly after the Krxstiul had broken out of the castle and ponies were generally quick to follow the herd, but even so the streets should have still been full of bodies fleeing with Krxstiul drones hot on their heels.

Come to think of it, Prism realized as he finally approached the Diamond Quarter, shouldn’t there be a lot more Krxstiul running around? I thought I overheard somepony estimating around ninety have slipped past the defenders so far...

A quick flight over the Quarter’s surface level showed no movement, so Prism cautiously landed at the main entrance of the caves and walked inside. After the third and final switch-back of the entry tunnel, he found his way blocked by a makeshift barricade of rocks piled up as high as his shoulder, and several pairs of flat, blue eyes giving him suspicious looks from the other side. “Hey,” Prism said, feeling suddenly nervous, “everything… ok down here?”

“Identify yourself,” one the Changelings demanded.

“Wait,” another one said, “is that Rainbow Dash?”

“No, you dolt,” the first one snapped. “Rainbow Dash died seven years ago!”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake,” an orange pegasus mare said as she shoved through the ‘lings and approached the barricade, “there’s like a hundred-and-some of you in the Hive and none of you recognize Prism? Honestly. So,” she addressed Prism, “what brings you here, kid?”

Prism swallowed and ran a hoof over his mane. Scootaloo was the only pony in the city who could make Prism feel self-conscious about how he dyed his mane to resemble Rainbow Dash’s, and without even saying a word about it. “Uh, Princess Twilight sent me, ma’am,” he said. “She wants… needs a Changeling with her at City Hall to keep her informed of things down here.”

“You can tell her we’ve suffered some bad cave-ins,” one of the Changelings said, “and between that and looking after the evacuees from the School of Friendship, we’ve got enough problems without letting whatever monsters are responsible know we’re down here.”

Prism bristled. “Is that a no?” he asked. “You’re saying ‘no’ to Princess Twilight?”

“We don’t have to answer to your Princesses,” the Changeling parried.

Scootaloo gave Prism a sympathetic look. “It feels like we’ve been arguing about this forever,” she said. “We’ve got some of the Guards from Twilight’s castle with us, and they won’t even let them leave.”

Prism snorted and flared his wings out, giving the spokes-ling a challenging glare. “Seriously?” he asked. “I always thought Changelings were braver than this. What happened to the Hive that had the courage to invade Canterlot twice, despite the poor odds?”

“Chrysalis’s Follies-” the Changeling started to retort, but Prism cut it off.

“And after that,” the pegasus said, “your ancestors had the courage to throw their lot in with a new Queen who’d barely learned what she actually was. A Queen who, I hear, still has to fight off anxiety attacks. Didn’t she lead you in seizing an entire fleet of airships from the Storm King? Then there was-”

“That’s enough,” shouted a grumpy Changeling voice from deeper into the caves. A moment later, the voice’s owner, Beetroot, walked into view and approached Prism. “Thank you for that inspiring list of accomplishments,” she said, “but it’s not necessary. The situation down here really is dire; half the Hive and all the Diamond Dogs are trapped by cave-ins right now. We just don’t have any hooves to spare to help topside. In fact,” she continued before Prism could protest, “we could use assistance if there’s any to spare and I’d like to know if there’s anyplace safer to send the students from the School of Friendship, so I’ll go back to Princess Twilight with you. And you,” she said with sudden sharpness to the Changeling Prism had been arguing with, “can come along too if you’re so concerned with my safety, Lorekeeper.”

The Lorekeeper looked sour, but he didn’t protest as Beetroot crawled over the barricade, and he joined her a moment later. Prism smiled in satisfaction and turned to lead the way out, but stopped when another voice called, “Hold on! I’m coming too.” Prism looked back to see Foxglove shove her way through the crowd and squeeze through the gap between the ceiling and barricade. Once she’d made it though and smoothed out her fur, Foxglove said, “I need to make sure Citrine got out ok.”

Prism eyed the dracony’s lack of wings with concern. “Citrine’s ok,” he said. “She asked me to look for you, actually. You should just stay here, though. Without wings, you won’t be safe from-”

Foxglove scoffed and shouldered her way past Prism. “The Changelings can turn into something big enough to carry me, if that’s an issue,” she said. “I don’t know much of what’s happening, but I know Citrine’s responsible and she’s going to need me to help her manage the guilt. Now come, on!” She galloped up the tunnel, with Prism and the two Changelings in her wake, and they emerged from the tunnel just as a quintet of Krxstiul drones bounded onto the street. There was only about a second of stillness before the Krxstiul let out their stomach-turning shrieks and pounced.

Chapter 8: Instruction

Time seemed to slow for Prism, Foxglove, Beetroot, and Lorekeeper Tea Leaf as the Krxstiul leaped at them, fanged mouths and serrated pincers open wide. The shrieking cries of the invaders left the Ponyvilleans too disoriented to think or act; all they could do was wince at the sound and watch their doom approach.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and Discord and Posey were standing between the Krxstiul and their prey. Discord was wearing an odd blue tunic with ripped shoulders and a white band tied around his head, holding a large bottle of bubble solution at his hip like a sword sheath. Posey was wearing a hairband with large blue flowers on it, and she quickly took shelter behind Discord once she saw what was in front of her.

Discord paid her no mind as he stoically stared down the Krxstiul, who were still in mid-leap. Quick as a blink, he drew a wand out of the bottle and slashed it through the air once, and the Krxstiul were each encased in giant, unbreakable soap bubbles. “Begone, monsters,” Discord said, returning the bubble wand to the bottle with dramatic slowness, “you don’t belong in this world.” The bubbles and the Krxstiul both disappeared, and Discord turned around and started to bow elegantly, but stopped when he saw Prism. “Oh, hello there, Rain-faux,” Discord said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What are you playing at, Discord?” Prism replied hotly.

“Saving your flanks, obviously,” Discord retorted. “You’re welcome.”

“And dragging Posey into danger while you’re at it?” Prism snapped.

“He’s not ‘dragging’ me,” Posey cut in before Discord could continue the verbal joust. “I’m here in case anypony needs convincing to let Discord teleport them to safety.” As Prism grumbled and settled his wings, Posey looked at Beetroot, Foxglove, and Lorekeeper Tea Leaf, asking, “Are you all ok?”

“We’re fine,” Beetroot answered, “thanks to your timely arrival. We’re on our way to City Hall to inform Princess Twilight about the Diamond Quarter’s condition.”

“Oh, right,” Prism said, pointing at Discord, “the Princess wants to see you too.”

Discord banished his costume and bubble bottle and looked around, shading his eyes with a paw. “Well,” he concluded, “I think we can safely spare a couple minutes without any creature being menaced by monsters. That’s five bound for City Hall, then?” Without waiting for an answer, he snapped and teleported the group away.

General Blueblood nearly jumped out of his skin when Prism suddenly appeared above the tactical map in a flash of light, and the pegasus barely managed to catch enough air to avoid crashing. Prism shot a dirty look at something behind the General before alighting next to Twilight and saluting. Blueblood turned around to see what had earned the pegasus’s ire and saw Discord, Posey, Foxglove, and a pair of Changelings. “Mission accomplished, Princess,” Prism reported. “And I found Discord too.”

“Good work, Prism,” Twilight said. She looked over at the group and her ears tilted forward in mild surprise. “Princess Beetroot,” she said, “I… honestly wasn’t expecting you to join us.”

“I’ll probably be more help here than in the Diamond Quarter, to be honest,” Beetroot said. “There have been a lot of cave-ins, but nobody’s seriously hurt. Every creature who was at your School made it out, but we’re not sure if it’s actually safe to let them leave the caverns.”

“Have the Krxstiul gotten into the caverns yet?” General Blueblood asked.

“The what?” Beetroot asked, and then looked to where the Krxstiul structures were visible above the nearby roofs. “Oh, is that what those monsters are called? I’ve seen them once, when we left the Diamond Quarter to come here. Discord got rid of them for us. There are weird roots digging through the ground and causing all the cave-ins, but no Krxstiul have shown up down there.”

Twilight conjured up a map of the Diamond Quarter and connected caverns and laid it over a part of the tactical map that was free of tokens. “Show me where the cave-ins are,” she instructed.

Beetroot and Tea Leaf went over to the map, conferred with the Hive for a minute, and then traced around parts of the map with their hooves. “Most of them are are here,” Beetroot concluded, “but the shocks have triggered smaller collapses all over the Quarter.”

Twilight frowned over the map. “As I thought,” she said, “the worst of it is right under the Krxstiul hive. Those roots are building foundations for the towers, and maybe more. You should tell your Changelings to move everyone out of the Quarter.”

“We won’t abandon our homes,” Tea Leaf protested.

Twilight was about to respond, but Beetroot waved her off and pulled the Lorekeeper aside for a private talk. Trusting the Changeling Princess to handle her own, Twilight turned her attention to her next target. “Discord, I’d like a word with you.”

Discord was in the process of donning a military dress jacket with a conspicuous gap in the row of medals pinned to the left breast, but paused mid-action and frowned at Twilight’s authoritative tone. “Yes?” he said in his best innocent tone.

Twilight glanced over at Citrine and gestured for her to approach with a wing. When the orange unicorn slumped over, Twilight glared up at Discord and asked, “Just what were you thinking, enabling Citrine to build a portal mirror?”

“I did no such thing!” Discord exclaimed, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Quite the opposite in fact; I explicitly told her I was not going to help her. Isn’t that right, Citrine?” He gave Citrine an accusatory look, and the unicorn nodded weakly.

Twilight was not convinced. “Care to explain how she got her hooves on a chaos catalyst for the gem array, then?” she asked. “The mirror Citrine made looked fully functional before the Krxstiul tore it apart, and she did manage to pierce the boundary of the universe, so there must have been a catalyst and you are the only being in all Equestria it could have come from.”

“Twilight,” Discord said, dead serious, “I swear on what honor I have that I did not give Citrine any part of myself and never gave her a chance to steal anything from my realm. I can’t explain how she got got a catalyst, but-”

“I used your tea,” Citrine cut in.

“What?” Twilight and Discord both asked, looking at her.

“Some of Discord’s ‘special’ tea blends are sold at The Tea Pot,” Citrine explained, her despondence fading away as she spoke. “They’ve got some chaos magic in them to produce their effects, so I bought a bunch and mushed them all together until I had a lump of tea leaves with enough chaos magic in it to serve as a catalyst.” She ginned for a second before wilting again under Twilight’s disapproving look.

“Huh,” Discord says, “that’s clever. Genius even.”

“Discord!” Twilight snapped.

“Yes, yes, it was in pursuit of very stupid plan,” Discord said dismissively, “but you still have to admit it was a very brilliant bit of problem-solving.” He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Twilight. “Either way,” he said, “I think you owe me an apology.”

Twilight hesitated, but then cast her eyes down. “Right,” she said. “I’m sorry I accused you of being part of the problem, Discord.”

“Apology accepted,” Discord said. “now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to doing my part to save Ponyville.”

“Wait,” Twilight said before Discord could vanish, “I… I wanted to ask… Well, I was going to insist on your help, but you didn’t actually do anything wrong, so…”

“Twilight,” Discord said, “you know better than to rely on me to fix your problems for you. This is Citrine’s doing, so if anyone should fix it, it’s her.”

“Oh, believe me, Citrine is going to do everything she can,” Twilight said. “Just hear me out. The Krxstiul got here through the portal Citrine made, and Pesci’s told me that as long as that portal remains open, the Krxstiul here are just an extension of the hive in their home universe, so we’re basically fighting an army with endless resources. We have to close the portal to even stand a chance of getting rid of them, but the portal is in the middle of all this,” she tapped the mass of tokens on the map representing the spread of the Krxstiul. “Want I want to ask of you, Discord,” she continued, “is just to take me and Citrine to the portal’s location and keep the Krxstiul off of us until we can get the portal closed.”

“Oh,” Discord said sarcastically, “that’s different.”

“Please,” Twilight begged. “I can’t teleport there myself; I don’t know how much the room has changed. You’re the only one who can make this plan work.”

Discord tried to hold on to his annoyance, but Twilight’s pleading expression made it impossible. “I am going soft,” he sighed. “All right, fine, I’ll help. But I expect an official thank you for all my hard work. And a medal.”

Twilight gave him a warm, grateful smile. “I’ll work something out,” she said. “Stick close, Citrine,” she ordered, pulling the orange unicorn under her wing.

“I’m coming along,” Bella said, trotting over. “Who knows, you might need another horn for something.”

Before Twilight could protest, Foxglove approached as well, saying, “I’ve got your back, Citrine.” Posey and Prism were right behind her.

Citrine tried to wave her cousin off, saying, “I appreciate it, Foxy, but this going to be dangerous.”

“Nonsense,” Discord said, positioning himself in the middle of the group, “the more the merrier, never turn down a friend, that sort of thing.”

Twilight bristled at Discord's caviler attitude. Taking a deep, slow breath, she prepared to give the dragonequus a piece of her mind. “Dis-”

Wink

“-cord…” Twilight’s voice trailed off in a mixture of frustrated acceptance of the inevitable and a need to quickly assess the groups’ new situation. The first thing she noted was that along with her, her two students, Foxglove, Posey, and Prism, Discord had also brought along Beetroot. The second thing she noted was that they were still outdoors. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Not at all where I intended to go,” Discord answered, looking genuinely perplexed as he pulled a large roll-up map of Ponyville out of thin air and consulted it while rubbing his chin. Rather than wait on him, Twilight and the others looked around to get their bearings. They were outside of the city, within sight of the Everfree Forest, and uncomfortably close to the border of the Krxstiul hive, around which now hung a translucent barrier that swirled with grey-blue and yellow patches. Twilight could just make out a few Krxstiul drones pacing just inside the barrier, growling at the group outside but not making any move to cross the line. Everyone decided to back away from the barrier, just in case, except for Discord, who continued to stare at his map.

“What happened, Discord?” Twilight prompted.

“If I knew, I’d have said so,” Discord replied crossly. He vanished in a blink, and then returned a few seconds later looking even more cross. “I can’t get in there!” he exclaimed. “That shouldn’t be possible! I can do anything!”

“Maybe that barrier’s to blame,” Bella pointed out.

“Hmph,” Discord pouted. “No measly magic shield can block the Spirit of Chaos. Observe.” He walked up to the barrier, returning the snarls of Krxstiul on the other side, and then slashed his eagle claw across the barrier. There was a sharp crack and a sizzling sound, and Discord backpedaled quickly from the barrier, grasping his now blackened and smoking claw in his lion paw. “Ouch,” he said, his tone flatto downplay the pain he was clearly in.

“I think the barrier’s to blame,” Prism said, smirking.

“Oh, laugh all you want,” Discord grumbled, shaking his claw until it returned to normal, “but if you have any bright ideas on how we’re going supposed to get to Citrine’s portal now, I’d love to hear them.”

“Maybe we could have the Guard use a bunch of that magic-nulling gel of theirs,” Beetroot suggested, “to open a hole for Discord to teleport us through.”

“That assumes it’s a magic barrier,” Citrine pointed out.

“What else could it be if it’s not magic?” Bella asked, giving her compatriot a scandalized look.

“These things aren’t from our universe,” Citrine argued. “Maybe they’re using some power other than what we call magic.”

“Six are gathered. It is time.”

Citrine and Bella immediately dropped their argument to look at Twilight. “What was that, Princess?” Bella asked.

“That wasn’t me,” Twilight said, looking around in confusion. “Wait, look!” She pointed toward the Everfree Forest, and everyone turned to see. Something glowing was rising into the sky above the trees, and as the group watched it split into six parts that shot off in different directions over the horizon, each trailing a different color behind it.

“What in Equestria?” Prism wondered.

“The Elements of Harmony,” Twilight and Bella said in near unison. Student and teacher exchanged a significant look, and then Twilight’s gaze swept over the group. “Six are gathered,” she said wistfully.

“I count seven here,” Discord said with a cheeky wave.

Twilight gave him a flat look. “I’m not counting you,” she said, “for obvious reasons, and my time as Bearer has passed. That leaves six.”

A slow wave of comprehension rolled through the six in question, leaving Bella beaming like a filly at Hearth’s Warming, Citrine troubled, and the remainder struck dumb in a mixture of awe and disbelief. “P-princess Twilight,” Foxglove managed to stammer out, “are you implying that… that… The Elements of Harmony and us?!”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “Yes,” she said, “the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It’s not my choice to make, but if it were, there’s not a single one of you I wouldn’t approve of being an Element Bearer.”

“Even me?” Citrine asked, “After I caused all this?”

“Yes, Citrine, even you,” Twilight said. “Being a Bearer doesn’t mean you never create… problems,” she gave the Krxstiul hive a dark look. “Celestia knows I caused more than a few problems myself. We can’t just look at the current situation, either. The responsibility of a Bearer doesn’t end after just one crisis. It’s long-term commitment. Life-long, for most…” She trailed off into a brief melancholy, but quickly shook it off and regarded the group, who had instinctively lined up in front of her. “I’ll admit,” she said, “that I’m largely going off a hunch here, but this timing can’t be a coincidence and I’m confident the power of the Elements will be more than a match for the Krxstiul. Still, if any of you don’t want to take on the task-”

“We’ll do it!” Bella and Citrine exclaimed.

Foxglove nodded and put a claw on Citrine’s shoulder. “I’ll always have my cousin’s back,” she said.

“Like heck I’d turn down a chance to follow in Rainbow Dash’s hoofsteps so closely!” Prism declared.

“It would be an honor,” Posey said. “I think Grandma ‘Shy would approve, too.”

Twilight put on her best Celestia smile and nodded along, keeping any slight misgivings about certain motivations to herself, until she got to Beetroot, who was frowning with a thousand-yard stare instead of chiming in. “Uh, Beetroot?” Twilight asked.

“Geh!” Beetroot startled, her eyes focusing on Twilight. “Er, sorry Princess Twilight,” she said, sheepish. “Tea Leaf is just really against the idea of me being a Bearer.”

Twilight sighed as the other five all gave the Changeling a variety of surprised or betrayed looks. “That’s fine,” Twilight said, “I’m sure we can find somepony else-”

Beetroot’s eyes widened and she waved a hoof frantically. “Whoa, whoa, I didn’t mean it like that!” she said. “I’m all for it. I still need to do something of great import, and this feels like the perfect fit. The Hive’s supporting me,” she finished, her voice dropping to a growl as her gaze slid away from Twilight, “so the Lorekeeper just needs to shut up and let me do this.”

“Uh… right,” Twilight said. “So you’re all on board?”

“Seems like it,” Bella said, watching as Beetroot finished her mental argument with a stomp. “Now what, though? It looked to me like the Elements all flew off to different places. Are we supposed to go hunt them down?”

Twilight glanced up to the sky and frowned. “I… guess so,” she said.

“But they could have landed anywhere!” Citrine said. “We don’t have the time to comb every inch of Equestria, let alone the whole world! There won’t be any Ponyville left by the time we get back!”

Discord mumbled something mostly unintelligible, but Twilight did make out the words “...could help.”

“Something you’d like to share, Discord?” Twilight asked.

Discord let out a long sigh that left him looking like a half-deflated balloon. “I can help,” he admitted. “I know, generally, where the Elements landed.”

“And how do you know that?” Prism asked.

Discord reinflated and gave the pegasus a long-suffering look. “I am the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony,” he said, “and while I am willingly submitting to the social rules of you Harmony-types, I’m still it’s polar opposite. Opposites attract, or something like that, therefore I can tell where in the world Harmony magic is at its strongest, and that is wherever the Elements are.”

“You’re making that up,” Prism accused.

“No, it makes sense,” Twilight said, “as far as ‘Discord’ and ‘sense’ can coexist. And time is of the essence. Would you mind speeding them along, Discord?”

Discord folded his arms and glowered at the Krxstiul hive. “It really rustles my sprinkles to leave before beating that barrier myself,” he said, “but it will probably be less frustrating and more entertaining to watch these kids discover themselves.”

“What do you mean ‘kids’?” Citrine demanded. “I’m over thirty.”

Discord conjured a baby bonnet onto Citrine’s head. “I am older than the universe itself,” Discord said, “child.”

“Don’t forget that you’re looking for the Elements of Harmony,” Twilight said, banishing the bonnet, “so try to get along with each other. And yes, that includes you Discord. Don’t be a saddle-burr for no reason, ok?”

“Oh, if I must,” Discord huffed.

Twilight nodded once in satisfaction. “Good luck, all of you,” she said. “I think I’ll be less worried about holding the Krxstiul back just knowing you six are on this quest.”

The six would-be Bearers returned the Princess’s wish for luck, and then Discord herded them into a tighter group and teleported away with them. Twilight took a moment to stare at the vacant space they had occupied, trying to unknot the complex feelings in her gut, until a chorus of Krxstiul cries reminded her that she was still needed in the present. With a last longing glance to the horizon, she gathered magic into her horn and teleported back to the Market Square.

Chapter 9: The Dragon's Challenge

General Blueblood looked away from the looming barrier covering the Krxstiul structures as a large blue portal gate opened up at the edge of Market Square. A squad of Royal Guards filed through, followed by an equal number of a Changelings wearing blue peytrals and helmets. The two groups lined up at attention to either side of the portal just as Princess Celestia and Princess Luna emerged, each clad in armored barding in gold and midnight black, respectively, and accompanied by a tall Royal Changeling with red eyes, a stringy red mane, and wearing a silver pendant carved with the Changeling Hive’s emblem of a hole-studded heart. Lorekeeper Tea Leaf made to approach the Changeling, some tirade ready on the tip of his tongue, only to flinch back when she shot him a hard look.

General Blueblood and the two Guard ponies assisting him snapped crisp salutes rather than bowing to the alicorns, since this was a military situation. “Welcome to the front, Your Highnesses, Ambassador Chard,” Blueblood said.

“At ease, General,” Luna replied. Looking around, she asked, “Where is Twilight Sparkle?”

Before the General could answer, Twilight appeared infront of him with her back to the new arrivals.

“Oh, there she is,” Celestia said brightly. “Hello, Twilight.”

Whatever Twilight had had in her mind fled at the sound of her mentor’s voice. Her wings flared out stiffly, her nostrils flared, and her pupils shrank. “C-celestia?” she squeaked, turning around. “Luna?! W-what are you you doing here?”

Celestia tapped her chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “I recall receiving a very hastily written letter asking for help with a crisis,” she said, her gaze moving pointedly to the Krxstiul hive.

Twilight forced herself to breathe, reminding herself that, objectively speaking, Celestia had rarely every been truly upset with Twilight. “I just didn’t expect you two to come personally,” she said. “I’m sorry if I dragged you away from something important.”

“Twilight,” Luna said flatly, “your city is currently being consumed by something alien and dangerous. There is nothing more important than helping you stop that.” She then locked her gaze on General Blueblood as she asked, “Didn’t the good General here tell you we intended to join the defense?”

“My apologies, Princess,” Blueblood said with an actual bow. “The situation here was rather desperate when I arrived, I had no opportunity to inform Princess Twilight of everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Twilight said. “Everything’s been happening so… all at once.”

Blueblood gave Twilight a grateful smile, but then did a double-take and exclaimed, “You’re back already, Princess? Alone?! What happened?”

“The plan hit a snag,” Twilight said, waggling a hoof. “See that barrier that just showed up over the Krxstiul hive? Discord couldn’t get through it for some reason. And then the Haven of Harmony decided now is the perfect time for the new Bearers to go hunting across Equestria for the Elements and…” She froze. “Celestia…” she breathed.

“Yes?” Celestia said, smirking.

Twilight shook off her shock and gave the eldest alicorn an apologetic look. “Sorry, habit,” she said. “But… is this how you felt when you sent me to Ponyville ahead of the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration?”

“Worried?” Celestia asked. “Scared to death at having to put so much on another’s shoulders but knowing you have no better option?” Twilight nodded. “Yes.”

“Excuse me,” Ambassador Chard said suddenly, “but the local Hive is telling me that you chose Beetroot as one of the new Bearers, Princess. Is this true?”

Twilight met the Changeling’s stoic, unreadable expression and grit her teeth. “Well,” she said, “technically, I didn’t make the choice. She was there when the Elements flew off, and she said she wanted to go after them. I… Sorry?”

Chard shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “You allowed a Changeling to become an equal member of Equestria’s most honored protectors. On behalf of the Hives, I thank you.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, relaxing. “Thank you, Ambassador. Now,” she walked over to the strategy table, gesturing for everyone in earshot to gather around, “we need to make sure there’s still a Ponyville for the Bearers to save when they get back.”

With a brief flash of light, Discord and his six charges appeared on the top of a hill overlooking a small town in a valley. The shops and houses of the town were all laid out in perfect parallel lines with the central main street pointed toward a cave in the hills opposite of the group’s position. The only exception to the layout was a small orchard a little ways off from the west side of town.

“Where are we?” Beetroot asked.

“Glimmerton,” Posey answered with immediate excitement.

“I thought it was called ‘Our Town,’” Foxglove said.

“They officially changed the name a few months ago,” Posey explained, “after finally getting tired of arguing with the postal service about address policies.”

“Fascinating,” Citrine deadpanned. “We don’t have any time to waste on trivia. Where’s the Element of Harmony, Discord?”

Discord, who was setting up a lounging area for himself, waved vaguely toward the town and said, “That-a-way.”

“Could you be more specific?” Prism asked.

“Maybe,” Discord said, “but I can’t make this too easy for you. Most of the fun is the searching.”

“Let’s get going, then,” Citrine said, cutting off Prism’s retort and heading down the hill at a fast trot. The other five followed close behind her while Discord stretched out on his lounge chair and created a binoculars to watch the group through.

Near the base of the hill, Beetroot suddenly stumbled with a shocked gasp. Her wings buzzed frantically to keep herself upright as she regained her balance and exclaimed, “There aren’t any Changelings around here!”

“Huh,” Posey said in mild surprise as everyone slowed to a stop, “you know, I think you’re right. I can’t recall ever meeting any ‘lings that live in this town. How can you tell, though?”

“I just realized I’m not connected to a Hive Mind,” Beetroot explained. “I don’t know anything about Glimmerton, so I tried to check with the Hive, but…” She gave a helpless shrug.

“Oh!’ Citrine realized, her impatience for the mission briefly giving way to sympathy, “This would be your first time ever being away from other Changelings, huh? Are you ok?”

Beetroot averted her gaze slightly, but nodded. “I’m fine,” she said. “Suddenly feeling only my own thoughts and your emotions just took me by surprise, is all. It’s nothing an infiltrator wouldn’t have had to experience in the old days.”

“All right,” Citrine said, “but let us know if you need help.”

“I will,” Beetroot said with a smile. “Shall we?” she asked, taking a few steps toward Glimmerton. The group took the hint and resumed trotting toward the road. “So, Posey,” Beetroot said after a moment, “you seem to know a lot about Glimmerton. Care to enlighten me?”

Posey nodded. “The town was founded by Starlight Glimmer,” she explained. “She meant for it be the start of a movement to abolish the very concept of cutie marks in the name of ‘equality,’ and she attracted a good number of followers before Princess Twilight and her friends were sent here as their very first Friendship Mission. When the lies in Starlight’s equalist creed were exposed, she ran off but everypony else decided to stay in the town. It’s grown a little over the years, but it’s had a fairly plain history otherwise. Oh, let’s go this way,” she said, suddenly turning to the left just before the group actually entered the town.

“What’s that way?” Bella asked.

“Sugar Mac Orchards,” Posey answered. “It’s my grandparents’ place.”

“This isn’t a vacation, Posey,” Citrine said. “We have to find the Element.”

“I know Citrine,” Posey explained sweetly, “and that’s why I want to go to the Orchards first. If anypony here knows anything about where the Element wound up, you can bet that my Grandma or Aunt Candy will be able to tell us. Besides, it’s past noon. When did any of you last eat?”

Citrine opened her mouth, then closed it, and shared a distressed look with Bella. “Breakfast,” they both said. Foxglove nodded along, while Prism and Beetroot made no comment.

“I thought that might be the case,” Posey said, smiling. She led the group around the outskirts of Glimmerton and onto the road to the farm. The trees of the orchard spread halfway up the hills and partially surrounded the medium-sized house and large barn at the base, with a modest picket fence marking the boundary of the property. As the group approached, a bright red unicorn mare with a straw-colored mane held back by a paisley kerchief and a caramel apple for a cutie mark stepped out onto the porch.

“My word,” the unicorn exclaimed, “Posey, is that you?”

“Afternoon, Auntie!” Posey called back, trotting up to meet her aunt halfway and accept a hug from her. “Sorry about dropping by unannounced.”

“Aw, ya know you’re always welcome to visit any time,” Candy said, releasing Posey. “Now then, who are your… friends?” she trailed off as her gaze swept the group and ended on Foxglove and Beetroot.

Without missing a beat, Posey answered, “Auntie, meet Bella, Citrine, Prism, Foxglove, and Beetroot. Everyone, this is my Aunt, Candy Apple.”

Candy Apple’s eyes betrayed a little uncertainty as she smiled, but her tone remained bright as she said, “Pleased to meet y’all. What brings ya to Glimmerton?”

“We’re on a very important mission,” Posey answered. “I was hoping that you or Grandma could help us.” Someone’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly, and Posey glanced over to see Bella looking embarrassed. “We’d appreciate a little lunch, for one thing,” Posey said, giving her aunt a coy smile.

Candy Apple chuckled. “Sure thing,” she said. “I was just goin’ to fetch Pa for lunch anyway, and Ma’s always got an extra pie or two or some muffins laying around. Head on in; we’ll join you in a minute.”

“Thank you!” Posey said, and Candy galloped off into the orchard. Posey led the group into the house and pointed them toward the sitting room. “You guys make yourselves comfortable in there. I’ll go alert Grandma to how many guests she has.” She turned toward the kitchen and almost walked right into an old pink unicorn mare with a graying, curly purple mane and carrying a tray full of sandwiches in her magic. “G-grandma!” Posey exclaimed, dodging the collision at the last second. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello Posey,” Sugar Belle said, expertly hiding her own shock at the near-miss, and held the tray out. “If somepony wants to take these from me, I’ll go get some apple juice to go with them.”

Bella stepped up and took the tray in her own magic. “You don’t seem surprised, ma’am,” she noted.

“I heard you and Candy talking through the kitchen window,” Sugar Belle said. “It’s just plain daisy sandwiches for now, but if you can wait a bit-”

“Thanks,” Citrine said shortly, “but we’re in a hurry.” She grabbed a sandwich off the tray, ignoring the sour looks that Bella and Posey shot her, and walked into the sitting room.

“Sorry about her, ma’am,” Foxglove said to Sugar Belle. “She’s under a lot of stress. I think she’s only going to put up with waiting until you daughter and husband arrive so we can ask you all a few questions.”

“I see,” Sugar Belle replied. “Well, go make yourselves comfortable; Candy and Mac shouldn’t be too long.”

Sugar Belle’s estimate proved true, as no sooner did everyone get settled and she returned with glasses of apple juice then Candy Apple walked in with Big Macintosh behind her. Citrine bounded out of her chair, questions on her lips, but was held back by Bella’s magic. “Be cool,” the blue unicorn whispered through a calm facade, “we’re guests here.”

“Guests on an urgent mission,” Citrine grumbled back.

“All right, Posey,” Candy Apple said, “mind tellin’ us a bit more ‘bout why you’re here and what’s got your friend there so jittery?”

Posey’s eyes wandered in thought for a moment. Finally, she said, “It’s a long story, but the short version is there’s big trouble in Ponyville, the Elements of Harmony are back, and we think one of them is hiding somewhere near here.” She paused as her relatives exchanged looks of concern and amazement, but when they didn’t comment she continued, “Have you seen or heard about anything weird in the last little bit? Something in the sky, perhaps?”

“Hm,” Candy said, thoughtful. “Sorry, can’t say I have.”

“I’ve been inside all morning,” Sugar Belle said.

Citrine huffed, stood up, and started for the door. “Well, thanks for the food, at least,” she said.

“Just how long ago are we talking, here?” Big Mac asked suddenly, causing Citrine to stop and look at him with cautious hope.

“Not very long, Grandpa,” Posey answered. “Probably just a few minutes before we arrived.” Big Mac gave her a curious look, and she explained, “Discord brought us here just a little bit after we saw the Elements fly off.”

“I see,” Big Mac drawled. “In that case, yup; I saw somethin’ glowin’ and flyin’ toward that cave at the north end of the valley not five minutes ago.”

“That has to be it!” Citrine exclaimed. She bolted out of the house and down the road, a belated “Thank you!” echoing in her wake.

Bella gave the group’s hosts a sheepish look. “Sorry about her,” she said.

Candy and Sugar Belle both started to say something, but fell silent as Big Mac cleared his throat. “Don’t worry ‘bout seeming rude,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to dally in gatherin’ those old Elements either, if I was you.”

“That’s…” Bella hesitated, and then nodded. “Right, we better catch up with her. Thanks for everything.” She led the group outside, Posey taking up the rear as she gave her grandparents and aunt a quick goodbye hug. They caught up with Citrine just outside the property line and galloped together to Glimmerton’s main street before turning north.

The path leading up from the town to the cave where Starlight Glimmer had once hidden the cutie marks of her followers was well-tended but unpaved. The cave itself had no signs or other markings on its exterior to indicate its history or current purpose, and nothing resembling an inert Element of Harmony was anywhere in sight. “Maybe it’s inside?” Foxglove suggested.

“Only one way to find out,” Prism declared and trotted into the cave. Before anyone could follow, he came galloping back out just ahead of an annoyed orange dragon with magenta head spines.

“That’s right,” the dragon growled, taking a warning swipe at Prism, “get out! This my cave, not a…” She trailed off as she saw the rest of the group, staring at Foxglove in particular. “Heeey,” the dragon said, calming somewhat and smiling, “Spike’s kid! Been a while.”

Foxglove’s eyes brightened with recognition, as did Citrine and Posey’s. “Hi, Smolder,” Foxglove replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Smolder answered. “Just moved in last week. I should probably put up signs or something,” she added, giving Prism a dirty look. “And what brings you all the way out from Ponyville?”

Citrine stepped up and said, “We’re looking for something that may have landed nearby.”

Smolder arched an eye-ridge. “That’s kinda- wait…” She pointed at each member of the group, counting them off, and then heaved a sigh. “There’s six of you,” she said. “Ok, come on in; I think I know exactly what you’re looking for.” She turned to head back inside.

While the majority of the Element seekers eagerly followed close on the dragon’s heels, Beetroot held Foxglove at the back of the group. “Her names sounds familiar,” the Changeling said, a little embarrassed “but I’m having trouble remembering where I’ve heard it.”

Foxglove gave Beetroot a sympathetic smile. “Smolder is the first dragon graduate of the School of Friendship,” the dracony explained.

“Oh, right!” Beetroot exclaimed, “One of Ocellus’s classmates.” There was a slight hitch in Smolder’s pace and her shoulders tensed for a moment, but nobody seemed to notice.

In the deepest part of the cave, Smolder had set up a simple and typical dragon’s lair. It mostly consisted of a pile of gold, gems, and sturdy trinkets large enough for her to sleep on and more delicate treasures displayed in niches and out-of-the-way corners, with enchanted crystals providing light. “Sorry there’s nowhere to sit,” Smolder said. “I’ve been focused more on settling in than preparing for guests.” She grabbed something small out of a niche and brought it over to the group. “This landed just outside less than an hour ago,” she explained, holding out her hand so everyone could see the balloon-shaped stone resting on her palm.

“The Element of Laughter!” Citrine cheered. “Perfect. Thanks so much, Ms. Smolder!” She made to grab the Element in her magic, but Smolder snatched it away, holding it protectively against her chest. “Hey!” Citrine snapped. “That’s ours.”

“Is it, though?” Smolder asked rhetorically. “Then why did it come to me? My friends and I acted as channels for the magic of Harmony a few times in the past, so maybe the Elements have chosen us to be the new Bearers.”

“Nonsense,” Citrine scoffed, meeting Smolder’s eyes in a glaring contest.

“Calm down, Citrine,” Bella scolded, “we’re not here to pick a fight.”

“But-” Citrine started to protest.

“Ms. Smolder,” Bella said, loud enough to drown out her compatriot but calming in manner, “The six of us here witnessed the Elements scattering right after we heard the voice of Harmony itself declare that ‘six are gathered.’ We also have an urgent reason to want to gather the Elements. Do you know why that is?”

“No,” Smolder admitted. She looked at the Element in her claws, and then set it down on the ground. “Ok, you make a good argument, kid,” she said, “but I still don’t think I should let you just take it.”

“Why not?” Posey asked.

“Look at it,” Smolder replied, smirking, “it’s not even active. If one of you is supposed to be its Bearer, then you should be able to wake it up.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Citrine asked.

“Well, it’s Laughter, isn’t it?” Smolder asked. “So, make me laugh.” She went and settled herself onto her hoard pile as the group hastily conferred.

“Anyone know any good jokes?” Prism asked. “I’m only coming up with some of the dumb riddles my dad always tells.”

“Nothing that would make sense if put into words,” Beetroot said.

“We have to figure out who’s going to tell the joke, too,” Citrine pointed out. “It won’t work if the one who makes her laugh isn’t the Bearer of Laughter.”

“But how are we supposed to figure out who that is before-hoof?” Bella asked.

As the two unicorns fell into a debate on deep magical theory and the Elements, with occasional input from the others, Posey felt her attention be drawn away toward one of the niches in the back wall. Nobody noticed as she left the group and went over for a closer look. In the niche sat five ceramic figures: a female yak with long braids tied in loops below her ears, a blue-feathered griffon, a pink hippogriff with a striped blue mane, a pale earth pony with a blue-green mane and a trio of turtles for a cutie mark, and a Changeling sporting pale blue chitin, red elytra, and a curly translucent pink frill on its head. They weren’t exactly true to life, but they’d each clearly been molded and painted with great care by someone with experience.

“These are real pretty, Smolder,” Posey said. “Where did you get them?”

“Hm?” Smolder said, looking over. “Oh, I made them myself,” she answered, caught between pride and embarrassment.

“You did? That’s amazing!” Posey exclaimed. “You’re a great sculptor. Have you started working on the last part of the set yet?”

“It’s already a complete set,” Smolder replied.

“That can’t be right,” Posey protested. “You’ve made a Yona, Gallus, Silverstream, Sandbar, and Ocellus. It won’t be a complete set without a model of yourself.”

“It’s a complete set,” Smolder insisted. “Making one of myself wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

“What do you mean?” Citrine asked. “You’re as much a part of that group as any of them. What would your school friends be without you standing beside them?”

“What?” Smolder growled. “I’ll tell you what.” She stalked over to the niche and pointed to each figure as she talked about the creature it represented: “Yona’s been part of the yak’s diplomatic corps for most of her adult life. Silverstream holds several noble titles and practically runs a fifth of the seapony territories. Sandbar is considered a leading expert in inter-species cooperation, Gallus is the first griffon officer in Equestria’s Frontier Guard, and Ocellus is one of the best living Lorekeepers among the Changelings. Me, I’m just a dragon who’s lucky enough to be counted as their friend.”

Posey gasped and put a hoof to the base of her throat. “No, you’re not ‘just’ a dragon!” she declared. “You’re as much a hero as any of them.”

Smolder snorted dismissively. “Name one thing that I’m known for that doesn’t involve being part of that group, then,” she said.

Posey smiled and immediately answered, “That’s easy: rallying the dragons during the Tambelon War. You were the first to realize that, as bad as it was that dead ponies were being raised as puppet soldiers for the self-styled Grogar the Second, it would be even worse if he could make zombie dragons, so you went to convince your race to find and guard all the lost dragon burial mounds before the zombies could get to them. You almost failed, until you said you’d handle it alone if you had to and immediately left to guard Grey Cinder Mound. That got Dragon Lord Ember’s attention, and she brow-beat the rest of the dragons into backing you up.”

“My brother was the first to come around, actually,” Smolder said with a faint smile, “but that’s not a bad summary. How’d you manage to come up with that so quickly?”

“I heard that story a lot when I was younger,” Posey answered. “It was one of the few tales from the Tambelon War that my grandmother Fluttershy liked to tell. It may even have been her favorite; she always said she admired your bravery and determination.”

Smolder’s eyes widened and started to glisten faintly, and her smile became larger and less guarded. “That does sound like something she would say,” Smolder said. “It’s been too long since anyone’s said something so nice about me. Thank you.” She turned her gaze to the niche and declared, “You’re right; the set’s not complete without me standing beside my friends.”

Posey opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything the Element of Laughter in Smolder’s claw suddenly exploded into glowing blue shards. The shards flew toward Posey, swirled all around her body, and then settled into a rapid orbit around her neck before suddenly transforming into a golden band necklace set with a blue crystal in the shape of one of the blossoms that made up Posey’s cutie mark.

No sooner had the new Element of Harmony formed and settled on Posey’s neck than the cave and everyone else seemed to fade away, leaving Posey standing in a foggy white void.

“Wha-” Posey said, having no idea what was going on. She’d never heard of anything like this happening to Element Bearers. The closest thing that came to mind was second-hoof tales of Harmony’s interactions with Smolder and her classmates in their dreams. Those had been collective experiences, though.

Posey heard hoofsteps and a giggle behind her. She turned around and had just enough time to register staring down the barrel of a small party cannon before the thing went off, showering her in confetti. “Woo-hoo!” cheered a bright, bubbly voice, “You woke up the first Element of Harmony! Congratulations!”

Posey quickly wiped a clump of confetti out of her eyes and shook more out of her mane. She saw, standing behind the cannon with a face-splitting grin, a vibrantly pink earth pony with wildly curly magenta mane and bright blue eyes. It looked exactly like, and yet couldn’t be… “Ms. P-pinkie Pie?”

“Yup, got it in one!” Pinkie Pie replied, shoving the party cannon out of sight somehow before pronking up for a closer look at Posey. “I’m supposed to give you some advice, but you made such quick work of waking up and bonding to Laughter – oh, but it’s probably not Laughter anymore because you didn’t actually have to make Smolder laugh to help her feel better about herself. Anyway, you’re off to a great start so keep up the great work!”

Posey was too confounded to respond, and before she could gather her wits the vision of Pinkie Pie and the foggy void faded away. She was back in Smolder’s cave, and Prism was waving a hoof in front of her face with a concerned look on his face. Posey flinched back reflexively, and then let out a heavy breath. “I’m fine,” she assured Prism and the others.

“Just a little overwhelmed with surprise?” Bella guessed.

“I… suppose,” Posey said with uncertainty. “I... For a moment there I was seeing Ms. Pinkie Pie standing there, congratulating me.”

Bella and Citrine shared a look. “A vision of the previous Bearer?” Citrine mused.

“Could have just been Harmony,” Bella countered. “It can appear as more ponies than just Princess Twilight, if it wants to. But that’s not important,” she added quickly, before Citrine could comment again, and approached Posey. “You’re the first new Element Bearer, Posey,” she said, “and that means we’re probably the right group for this after all.”

“Looks like it,” Smolder cut in, slightly melancholy. “Well, don’t let me hold you up any longer; get out there, find the other Elements, and save Equestria.”

Posey trotted over and wrapped the dragon in a hug. “Don’t get sad again already!” Posey exclaimed. “It’s not easy charming somebody I just met out of a funk, you know, so hold onto that happiness a bit longer, ok?”

“Ok, ok,” Smolder relented with chuckle. “But seriously, you all should probably be getting on with your quest.” Posey nodded and ended the hug as Citrine started pestering the rest of the group out of the cave.

Once the group had left, Smolder went over to the niche containing the models of her friends and picked up the Yona figurine. “I’ve probably been on my own for too long,” Smolder said. “Tomorrow-” She jerked in surprise as a warm feeling spread throughout her body and her scales all began glowing. “The Dragon Lord’s Summons?” she muttered, staring at one glowing hand and then out toward the cave entrance. “If this isn’t related to whatever’s prompting the Elements to come back, I’ll swear off rubies for a month.”

Author's Note

Ugh, this took entirely too long to write, and we still have five Elements to go.

Chapter 1: Interventions

Time marches on inexorably. Every morning the sun rises on a world that is a little different than it was the previous day, and those small changes add up quickly. Most beings are bound to the flow of time and barely notice those minuscule daily changes as they happen, only noticing the aggregate effects with surprise and in hindsight. Most can change with their world and remain fairly comfortable until their time comes to an end. For a certain few beings, however, the amount of time allotted to them is so great that it feels as if the world is changing without them, or that time takes more than it gives in return. Such feelings can cause the immortal and the long-lived to withdraw into tight-knit groups and shut out the world at large, unless they can find something in the world worth caring for.

Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship among many other things, woke up one morning wondering, as she did with increasing frequency, if she honestly cared enough to face the day. Recognizing the feeling for what it was, she forced herself to get out of bed and walk to the window to survey her little city. For Ponyville was a city now, as the passing of many years and the allure of living under the eye of Equestria’s most accessible Princess had combined to attract enough immigrants to transform what had been a small farming town into a fledgling metropolis that aspired to surpass Canterlot in size.

Most of the buildings had changed or been replaced over the decades, but the most historic landmarks remained virtually untouched. The gazebo-like Town Hall – City Hall now – still stood in the center of Market Square and, despite pressure from the citizenry every election cycle, was still handling the day-to-day civic business without Twilight’s direct involvement. There was Sugar Cube Corner, outwardly unchanged but now more of a headquarters for the growing Cake Confectioneries company than a simple neighborhood bakery. Carousel Boutique stood out like a jewel in the fashion retail district that had grown around it.

Sweet Apple Acres had not endured nearly as well; Twilight could barely even find the measly seven acres and farmhouse that remained of the once vast apple orchards. The farm was essentially an outdoor museum now, although they did still grow the one-of-a-kind Zap Apples.

Off to Twilight’s left stood her School of Friendship, where she officially served as headmare, although her actual responsibilities there were much decreased. The School was world-renowned for its inclusiveness and curriculum, but enrollment was on a gradual decline as other schools operating on similar frameworks popped up across Equestria and the wider world. Even the Equestrian Education Association had bent enough to start trying to attract non-pony students ten years ago. It was a good thing, no doubt, but…

Twilight Sparkle turned away from the window, not feeling much better. Here she was, the Princess responsible for spreading the Magic of Friendship across the lands, and yet she felt that her own circle of friends was tragically tiny now, and all but one of those close friends lived far, far away from Ponyville. The five mares she’d been closest to, those who had borne the Elements of Harmony alongside her, had all been taken by time or tragedy or mysterious circumstance. A large part of their generation seemed to have passed on as well, and even a little of the next, and Twilight couldn’t seem to be able, at this precise moment, to think of any pony living in Ponyville that she felt as close to as she had to…

Spike. Spike was still around. He was not so small anymore and had his own place to live, but he was still as devoted to Twilight as ever. It would probably do her good to drop in on him, and there was always an unspoken invitation for her to join Spike and Sweetie Belle for a meal.

Resolved, Twilight brushed out her mane, put on her simple “casual outing” tiara, and went to leave the room. As she gripped the door handle with her magic, however, she remembered something and went back to her bed. On the nightstand was a metal device shaped like a small pony’s head with a black glass display for eyes resting on a charging station. This was PSC-E-3, or “Pesci,” a highly advanced artificial intelligence that had been gifted to Twilight by her friends from the universe of Taryn. Pesci was yet another reminder of things lost to time, but not as bittersweet a reminder as most.

“Pesci,” Twilight said, giving it a light poke, “wake up.”

Pesci’s display lit up with two yellow lines of LEDs, representing eyes, and it rose from its station to hover in front of Twilight’s face. “Good morning, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said in a tinny, synthetic voice, “would you like to review your schedule for the day?”

“Not quite,” Twilight said. “Cancel whatever I have scheduled for the morning; I’ll be visiting Spike and Sweetie Bell for breakfast.”

“I see,” Pesci said. “You don’t actually have anything scheduled this morning aside from the usual eleven o’clock lesson with the Young Misses, so there won’t be any conflicts.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, mildly surprised. “Good.”

“Although,” Pesci added as Twilight turned to leave, “Given the pattern of the last few mornings...”

Twilight grimaced. “Right,” she said. “Keep an eye on Citrine and Bella, would you?”

Pesci bobbed a nod. “As you will, Princess Twilight.”

Spike and Sweetie Belle’s house had been built practically next door to Twilight’s castle, if one counted the undeveloped land separating the castle and School of Friendship from the rest of the city as part of the castle’s property. The house was of mainly stone construction covered in a facade of decorative crystal imported from the Crystal Empire to match Twilight’s castle and had been built to accommodate Spike’s proportions. Through careful hoard management (and maybe a tiny bit of magic), Spike’s “full-grown” size had settled at about one and a half time the size of the average pony when went on all fours, which he was often obliged to do inside most buildings just to avoid concussions and broken chandeliers.

Twilight knocked on the front door and was surprised to have it answered almost immediately by Sweetie Belle. The unicorn mare’s mane had a few gray streaks in it, but otherwise she showed no outward signs of being on the late side of middle age. Her eyes held a mixture of surprise and relief as she wrapped Twilight in a hug and all but pulled her into the house. “You’re here!” Sweetie exclaimed. “Spike!” she shouted toward the kitchen, “Twilight’s here!”

“Good… morning, Sweetie Belle,” Twilight said, taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting. “What’s going on? Is something the matter?”

“Yes something’s the matter,” Sweetie Belle answered, herding Twilight to the dining room. “You haven’t come by for a meal in over a month! Spike was going to stage an intervention this afternoon.”

“An intervention?” Twilight asked, bemused, as she took a seat at the table. “For not coming over to visit? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction?”

Spike came out of the kitchen with a tray with two bowls of oat porridge and a larger bowl of carbuncles. Giving Sweetie Belle a quick kiss on the head, he set the porridge in front of the ponies and then sat down across from Twilight. “Twilight,” he said matter-of-fact, “you normally come over for a meal every eight days. It’s not so often that you feel like you’re imposing on us, and it’s regular without being as routine as once every week would be.”

“Right,” Twilight said, vaguely recalling having explained that very thing to them at least once before. “I still see you at the library almost everyday anyway, Spike,” she said. “and I have my students and Royal Court, so it’s not like I’ve locked myself away.”

“I’ve only seen you in the library maybe twice in the last month,” Spike countered, “and you haven’t taken out nearly as many books as normal. Some of our patrons are actually concerned by how full the shelves have been lately.”

“You’ve been acting distant at the School, too,” Sweetie Belle added. She reached out and put her hoof over Twilight’s. “It’s not just Spike and me that are worried, Twilight,” Sweetie said. “Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Foxglove, we’ve all noticed that something’s bothering you lately and we can’t figure out what. There aren’t any… You know… Memorials coming up.” She choked slightly, almost imperceptibly, at having to bring up the topic of dead friends and family.

Twilight stared at her oats for a moment, and then sighed and looked up. “I guess I have been out of it lately,” she said. “I don’t know why either, to be honest. If you look at it logically, everything’s perfect. Ponyville’s growing, every creature is happy or at least has perfectly ordinary problems to deal with, the principles of Friendship are spreading far and wide, and there haven’t been any catastrophes or ancient evils to break up the monotony of it all in years!” Twilight froze as she heard the last few words she’d spoken, dropping her eyes with an embarrassed blush. “I mean, nothing to disturb the peace we work so hard to maintain.”

“Hmmmm,” Spike said, rolling a carbuncle slowly in his claws. “You miss the old days,” he said with a wry smirk, “when everypony considered Ponyville one of the hotspots of trouble in Equestria. You want an adventure.”

“No!” Twilight blurted out, then caught herself and looked down again. “Well, yes,” she admitted, “I do miss the thrill a little. But,” she looked up and met Spike’s eyes with a fierce look, “I’d never want Ponyville or anyplace else to be in danger just so I can save the day. I just… Feel like I should be doing more.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Celestia doesn’t get it,” Twilight said, her voice growing a little heated. “I try to talk to her, and she just says I’ll eventually find satisfaction in guiding others, as if I’m supposed to adopt her methods of plotting and pulling strings now instead of the direct, heat-of-the-moment approach she herself guided me to perfect. Luna’s plenty happy creating the night sky and guarding the dreamscape, and Cadance is off having a great time as an ambassador to other lands while Flurry Heart governs the Crystal Empire. What am I supposed to do?” Letting out a frustrated noise, she slammed her head down onto the table, planting her nose squarely in her porridge. Spike and Sweetie Bell instinctively reached out to help, but withdrew when Twilight started munching on the oats.

“So, you’re feeling directionless?” Sweetie Bell asked after a moment.

“Mmph,” Twilight said.

“Ok,” Sweetie said. “Have you tried consulting the Map lately?”

Twilight pulled her face out of her bowl, accepted a napkin from Spike, and cleaned the porridge off her muzzle. “The Map hasn’t issued a Friendship Mission in years, Sweetie,” Twilight said. “Not since… Applejack.”

“I know,” Sweetie replied, “but it still works, doesn’t it? You could wake it up and ask it for... I dunno, advice or something.”

“That’s not how the Map works,” Twilight said. “You don’t ask it to find problems to solve, it just wakes up and alerts whoever’s needed.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Spike said. “The Map is tied to the Haven of Harmony, and you’re still connected to the Element of Magic. You haven’t done anything with your role as Element Bearer in a long time; maybe that’s what’s making you moody all of a sudden.”

Twilight rubbed her chin in thought. “Well, it’s kind of hard to act as Element Bearer when I’m the only one of the Six left,” she said. “Still, you have a point: it won’t hurt to try. I’ll try and coax something out of the Map after br-”

Twilight was interrupted by a loud, insistent tapping at the window behind Spike. The dragon turned his head to see what was causing the noise, made an intrigued face, and stood up to open the window and let Pesci float in. “What are you doing here?” Spike asked the head-shaped computer. “You don’t like going out in public.”

“I have no feelings about being out in public,” PSC-E-3 replied flatly. “Ponies are unnerved by my appearance, and I dislike causing those emotions. Princess Twilight, I’m afraid the Young Misses have had yet another fight. Miss Citrine fled the premises, while Miss Bellatrix may have barricaded their room.”

“Ugh, great,” Twilight deadpanned, face-planting into her porridge again.

“Fighting?” Sweetie asked as Twilight extracted herself and accepted a fresh napkin from Spike.

“This is the fourth morning in a row,” Twilight said as she wiped her face clean. “The girls have been at each other’s throats over all sorts of things lately. I don’t know what...” She paused, and grimaced. “Maybe it’s a reaction to my mood,” she said. Her head twitched and Sweetie Bell quickly whisked the bowl of porridge out of the way, but Twilight just shook her head and got up. “I have to go talk to them,” she said.

“No,” Spike said, standing up as well, “you should go consult the Map and get yourself straightened out before you try dealing with anything else. Sweetie Bell and I will talk to the girls.”

“I can’t ask you to-” Twilight started to protest, only for Sweetie to stand up and put a hoof over Twilight’s mouth.

“Citrine’s our niece, Twilight,” Sweetie said, “and we practically raised her. Besides, I think I know exactly where she’s run off to. As for Bella… Spike’s right: you need to sort out your own problems first.”

Twilight sighed, and then gave the two a small smile. “Thank you both,” she said.

The doors to the Map Room creaked slightly as they opened to admit Twilight, and then again as she closed them behind herself. A wave of lingering sadness welled up as she looked at the round table and the seven thrones surrounding it, five of them belonging to ponies long since dead and one now far too small for its intended occupant. After a moment, Twilight steeled herself and approached the table, horn igniting as she tapped into the complex web of magic that tied the Map to the distant nexus of the Haven of Harmony. “All right,” she began with a sigh, then froze when the Map activated.

Rather than the normal expansive view of Equestria and the neighboring lands, the Map only showed Ponyville and the Everfree Forest, including a model of the giant crystal tree-house that was the Haven of Harmony. As Twilight took a few, slow steps closer to the map, she felt a nearly-forgotten but still familiar tingle on her flank, and an image of her cutie mark appeared on the Map, floating above the Haven. “I...” Twilight said. “I’m not sure I understand. What could be at the Haven that you can’t tell me about here?”

The Map, naturally, did not respond to the question.

Twilight shook her head, chiding herself. “Silly pony, when have we ever known what we had to do before we went to the mission location?” She turned away from the Map and headed for the door. Before opening it, though, she looked back and added an unnecessary, “I’ll be there soon.”

“Hey, Bella,” Spike called as he knocked on the door of the room shared by Twilight’s two students, “are you ok in there?” He heard no response from within, even after pressing his ear against the door, so he turned the handle and said, “I’m coming in.” He gave the door a push, and was surprised when it actually opened slightly without encountering any sort of resistance. “I thought Pesci said she’d barricaded herself in,” the dragon mused.

“I said she may have done so,” a tinny voice said from behind Spike’s head, startling him. As Spike whirled to glare at the floating computer, it continued dispassionately, “My lack of a reliable method of operating doorknobs means I can only guess about such things.”

“What are you doing here?” Spike asked.

“Princess Twilight does not require my assistance at present,” Pesci said, “but will eventually desire to know the states of the Young Misses, and since Miss Bellatrix is still in the castle-”

“Ok, ok, I get it,” Spike said, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the door. He pushed it open far enough to poke his head inside and looked around. Books, loose papers, the sheets from both beds, personal grooming items, and assorted other things were scattered everywhere on the floor, but there was no sign of anypony about. “She’s not here?” Spike wondered aloud.

Pesci slipped into the room over Spike’s head, moved to the center, and spun slowly in place, it’s LED eyes resembling a pair of hourglasses as it did so. “Confirmed,” it reported after completing its spin and facing Spike, “there are no life signs present, nor any suspicious pony-sized meat sacks.”

Spike felt his lip curl as the implications hit him. “Seriously?” he asked in disgust, pulling back out into the hall. “This is exactly why most ponies can’t stand being around you.”

Pesci’s eyes blinked into question marks, and it bobbed side-to-side for a second as it processed Spike’s statement. “A query, Spike” it said, floating out into the hall, and then trilled in alarm when it saw the dragon was already several yards away. “Please wait, Spike!” Pesci exclaimed, zooming to catch up. “I require additional input from you if I am to successfully update my user-interaction guidelines so as not to repeat whatever faux-pas I committed!”

Spike sighed and waited for the computer to catch up. “Ok,” he said, “first of all, you talk too much.” Pesci bobbed a nod and waited with infinite, silent patience as Spike continued outlining his griefs.

Twilight Sparkle put on her “business face” and took up a brisk pace as she walked through Ponyville’s streets, a combination of outward signs that would tell the ponies she passed that she had no time for interruptions but wasn’t on her way toward anything they needed to be worried about. Ponyville’s citizens quickly cleared out of her path when they saw her approaching, but they did so simply out of respect and with no more than brief second glances as she went by. Twilight paid little mind to the polished dance of politeness, her thoughts fixed squarely on the question of what could be waiting for her at the Haven of Harmony.

Twilight’s focus was shaken when she passed by Sugar Cube Corner and saw an unexpected, familiar-looking pony get up from one of the outdoor tables and approach. Even after over a half-dozen years, it still took Twilight a second to recognize the pony not as The Great and Powerful Trixie, but as Trixie’s granddaughter, Bellatrix Lulamoon. Bella was the spitting image of Trixie in her youth, aside from Bella’s eyes being magenta rather than dark purple and her cutie mark, which was a magician’s top hat resting on its side as two stars shot out of it. Bella typically did her mane up in complex braids, but this morning she had just done a simple, loose braid.

Bella approached Twilight with an apologetic look on her face and the end of a croissant gripped in the glow of her telekinesis. “Morning, Princess,” she said.

“What are you doing here?” Twilight blurted. “Pesci said you’d locked yourself in your room after Citrine ran out.”

Bella winced, averting her eyes. “So, Pesci did see that,” she muttered, and then looked back up. “I did shut myself away at first,” she said, “but only for a couple minutes before I decided to go for a walk instead. I didn’t mean to make you come looking for me. I’m sorry.”

Twilight shook her head. “I wasn’t looking for you,” she said. “I was… just taking a walk too. You and Citrine have been getting into arguments so much lately-”

Bella grit her teeth. “Yeah,” she said, “and I think it’s my fault today. I just...” She waved a hoof limply as she searched for the words.

Twilight’s gaze drifted from the downcast unicorn toward the Everfree Forest. The Map hadn’t indicated for anypony besides Twilight to go to the Haven, but Friendship Problems rarely went as expected and never involved just the ponies summoned to handle them. Besides, Bella was Twilight’s student. Bella’s talent for magic went far beyond the illusions and performance spells the Lulamoons specialized in, and she hadn’t fit in well at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, so Trixie had entrusted her granddaughter’s training to Twilight. Twilight had a responsibility to guide Bella’s development, and there was no time like the present to work on one’s issues.

“I’m going out to the Haven of Harmony,” Twilight told Bella, smiling gently. “Why don’t you come with me? Maybe we can get to the root of why we’re all on edge lately.”

Bella looked surprised that Twilight had grouped herself in with her two students, but she nodded. “Just you and me?” she asked. Twilight nodded. “All right,” Bella said, waiting for Twilight to take the lead, “I think I’d like that.”

In the upstairs workroom of the Carousel Boutique, Foxglove knelt at the feet of a pegasus dress-form, nimble claws hard at work adjusting a hem for the umpteenth time. The daughter of Spike and Sweetie Bell, Foxglove was perhaps the most unique creature in the entire world, setting aside certain immortal spirits. Tall and spindly, her head, neck, and limbs were – save for tufts of fur on her cheeks – covered in pale lavender scales while the rest of her sported fur of the same color, and her eyes were orange with slit pupils. Her equine silhouette was broken by two small, back-swept horns and a row of green spines like her father’s on her head instead of a mane, a draconic tail that didn’t quite reach the floor when she was standing straight, and dexterous claws in place of hooves on her front legs. Any doubts as to her pony heritage would be quickly silenced by the presence of a cutie mark on her flanks: four emerald-cut rubies arranged in a diamond formation. Many would confuse Foxglove for a Kirin on first glance, but after much research and debate by the experts it was decided that Foxglove was indeed the first of her own unique breed: the Dracony.

Foxglove looked up at the sound of her workroom door flying open. She took one look at the orange unicorn mare with the short, purple mane that was walking in and then bent back to her work as she said, “Cushion’s still where you left it, Citrine.” Citrine stalked across the room to a pony-sized cushion and threw herself onto it face-first. Then she screamed into it. Foxglove tugged her stitching tight and pulled back slightly to check her work, blithely ignoring the dramatics until they faded into silence. “You know, you really should be more gentle with my doors,” Foxglove said.

Citrine muttered into the cushion, and Foxglove’s long-practiced ears translated the sounds into, “Technically, it’s my house too.”

“All the more reason to avoid damaging the walls,” Foxglove retorted gently. “And you haven’t spent more than a couple nights here in a row since you started studying under Princess Twilight.” She tied off the thread, snipped the excess off with an expert twitch of a claw, and started gathering her sewing kit back together. When she finished that, she looked over to see Citrine had pulled her face out of the cushion and was now sitting on it properly. “So,” Foxglove said, “is it Bella again, or…?”

Citrine groaned and flopped onto her back. “How do you do it, Foxglove?” she asked. “How do you manage to always be so understanding when I’m having a temper?”

“We grew up together, cousin,” Foxglove replied simply.

“Yeah,” Citrine said, “but family doesn’t always get along. Bella’s mood seems to go right into the garbage every time she gets a letter from anypony in her clan other than her grandma or father.”

“Well,” Foxglove said, walking over to give Citrine a light hug, “I don’t know the Lulamoons enough to say anything about that. I do know you, though, Citrine, well enough to know that getting annoyed at your temper won’t help you.” She released Citrine and stepped back, looking serious even as the unicorn flopped onto her back again comically. “Dodging the question of what’s set you off this time also won’t help,” Foxglove said. “Tell me what happened, Citrine. You know your secrets are safe with me.”

“Something you’d find really stupid, I’m sure,” Citrine groused, sitting up and levitating a comb over from the little table by the fitting mirror. She ran the comb through her mane as she explained, “Bella misplaced her hair ties and started going through everything looking for them. I warned her not to mess up my bed, she accused me of stealing her ties, and things… escalated.”

Foxglove frowned. “Escalated how far?” she asked.

Citrine’s comb froze and quivered as the unicorn’s vivid green eyes hardened. “She… mocked Father’s legacy,” Citrine growled. “Said that Meis Thamule is some nonsense words that I just throw around to sound impressive.”

Foxglove sat back on her haunches. “I see,” she said. “You know, she’s not completely wrong. You have been throwing around Ashen Blaze’s title a lot recently, even though it’s not that widely known outside our family.”

“Bella should know what it means though,” Citrine countered. “Her grandma is the Great and Powerful Trixie, and she worked with the Order-naries a bunch of times.”

“That’s true,” Foxglove said, “but that doesn’t mean Trixie knew or understood what Meis Thamule means, or that she’d pass that knowledge on to her family. Have you ever asked Bella if she knows what you’re talking about when you refer to Meis Thamule?”

Citrine opened her mouth to retort, then hung her head. “No,” she admitted.

“And has it ever come up during your lessons?”

“No,” Citrine said. “I just assumed...”

Foxglove sighed and reached out to stroke Citrine’s mane. “Do I even need to say it, cousin?” she asked with a gentle smirk.

“Never assume what you can verify,” Citrine grumbled.

“And try to have an actual conversation with Bella some time,” Foxglove added. “Really, Citrine, there’s no rule saying you can’t be friends with ponies younger than you. Now,” she said as she stood up, “have you had breakfast yet?” Citrine shook her head. “Then help yourself to the pantry before you leave,” Foxglove advised. “Hunger only ever clouds the mind.”

“I don’t understand Citrine,” Bella declared.

Twilight wiped a knowing smile off her face before turning her head to look back at Bella. It had taken most of the walk through the Everfree, and a lot patience as Bella vented her frustration from the morning’s fight, but it seemed to Twilight that the young unicorn had finally come around to the heart of the matter. “What about her don’t you understand?” Twilight asked.

Bella ducked under a low branch as she considered her answer. “She’s something like twice my age, right?” she said at last. “But from the way she acts, you would think I’m the older one between us. She can be such a brat about the dumbest things.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, her ears folding back, “that’s… Well, you know who parents were, right?”

“Rarity, the Element of Generosity,” Bella answered easily, “and Ashen Blaze, Meis Thamule, whatever that means.” She snorted. “Citrine certainly makes a big deal out of it, but I’ve never found an explanation for the title in any history or peerage books.”

“You wouldn’t,” Twilight said, the words feeling heavy on her tongue. “Meis Thamule is not a title from Equestria, nor of any country in this world. It is… was uniquely Ashen Blaze’s.”

“What does it mean, though?” Bella asked.

“That depends,” Twilight said. “To Ash, it was a relic of his past that he couldn’t let go of despite how much of a burden it felt like. To Citrine, though, it’s probably the closest thing she has left to her father.”

Bella grunted as she leaped over a fallen log that Twilight had just absentmindedly flown over. “So, is that why Citrine doesn’t act her age?” she asked. “Because she lost both her parents when she was young?”

A lump formed in Twilight’s throat, and she swallowed hard to banish it. “Maybe in part,” Twilight said, “but mostly… I think it’s because she’s always developed much slower than normal ponies. Ashen Blaze came from another universe, and we suspect that something about that – his alien nature or the time disparity that exists between different realities or some other unknown variable – has had an effect on Citrine’s growth. However old she may seem to be on paper, she’s probably only three-fifths that old mentally and emotionally, at best. You might actually be more mature than her, by a small margin.”

Bella paused mid-step, and then sped up to walk right beside Twilight. “No offense, Princess,” she said, “but that doesn’t make any sense.”

Twilight gave her student a coy, sideways smile. “Trust me,” she said, “sense tends to go right out the window when you’re working with multiple universes. Be glad that I’m never planning to ask that of you. Equestria still has plenty of mysteries to engage and confuse a bright mind like yours.” She returned her gaze to the path ahead and saw the distinct shine of the Haven of Harmony’s crystal structure in the distance. “Ah good, we’re almost there.”

Chapter 6: Incursion

A small glimmer of hope sparked in Citrine’s chest as she stood up and leaned to look past Princess Twilight at the hole in reality. She knew she hadn’t completed the portal because she’d been caught off-guard by the sudden vacuum, but perhaps she’d done enough. Maybe after she’d set it in motion, the portal had fallen right in to the original path and had only just now made contact with the universe of Taryn. Perhaps…

Citrine’s heart sank and her ears laid flat as soon as she got a clear look at the hole. It wasn’t her father emerging; it wasn’t even a pony, or any other kind of creature. Spreading out from the rift in all directions, for the rift’s “opening” faced every possible direction at once, were long tendrils of some strange chitinous material, primarily black patterned with thin streaks of greyish blue and sickly yellow. The tendrils twisted about, as if exploring the space within the dome, until one of them encountered the mirror. Several of the tendrils whipped around to join the first one in wrapping around the mirror before violently tearing it apart and hauling the bits and pieces back through the rift.

“What are those?” Bella asked, looking to Twilight with trepidation.

“I have no idea,” Twilight said. “Pesci, scan them.”

“As you will, Princess Twilight,” the floating head-shaped computer said, flying closer and sweeping its scan-light over the nearest tendril. “They appear to be alive,” it reported as more tendrils appeared, snaking along the floor until they encountered the barrier. “Appendages to a larger organism, I would assume.” Pesci tilted slightly to the side as one of the tendrils lashed out toward it, as if reacting to the scan-light, and hit the barrier. “I am finding many possible matches in my database,” the computer concluded, turning away and floating back to the ponies, “but I cannot identify these things with satisfactory accuracy. My apologies, Princess Twilight.”

Twilight smiled, her anger at Citrine seemingly forgotten for the moment. “I didn’t expect-” she started to say, but then flinched when the tendrils all lashed out, striking the barrier with enough force to make it flash in reaction. “Hmph,” Twilight said, smirking, “you’ll have to try harder than that to get through a double-layered Shining Armor Shield.”

The tendrils seemed to take that as a challenge, as one of them coiled up into a ball and started slamming against the barrier. Others darted at the floor, knocking chips out of it until Twilight managed to conjure another, flat barrier across the ground.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Bella said, glancing at Twilight, whose mouth was starting to bend in the manic smile of an impending research binge. “Maybe we should start trying to send them back and close the hole?”

“Ah,” Twilight said, jolting out of her trance, “yes, you’re right Bella. Come on, you two.”

Citrine opened her mouth to ask why her, but quickly closed it and approached the barrier alongside Bella and the Princess. She already knew the answer: Citrine had caused this, so naturally it was her responsibility to help put an end to it. As she waited for Twilight to consult the book and give her instructions, Citrine watched the strange tendrils continue to pound away at the barrier. More and more were coiling up to increase the force of their blows, and some of them had acquired spikes. The blows were coming faster and faster, and Citrine suddenly realized that it was because the tendrils were increasing in number, filling the space inside the dome to the point where the flailing tendrils were starting to get in each other’s way, and yet the impacts against the barrier were only getting more frequent. “If they keep squeezing in like that...” she muttered.

A crack appeared.

“Princess!” Citrine shouted, “it’s failing!”

“What?” Twilight exclaimed, looking up from the book. Her irises shrank as she saw the cracks – plural now – spreading throughout her barrier. “Back!” she ordered, slamming the book shut and focusing her magic on the dome. Bella, Ctirine, and Pesci ran back to the door, and turned back to see Twilight throw up a new, larger dome just as a tendril broke through the original and caused it to collapse. Twilight backed up quickly as the mass of tendrils surged out to slam against the second dome, cracking it with a single, coordinated blow to the entire surface at once. Twilight threw up two more domes, each barely lasting longer than a couple seconds, before she reached the doorway. Shoving her students back, she slammed the door shut and jammed her horn against it, infusing it and the surrounding wall with magic mere instants before the tendrils reached the edges of the room with an arrhythmic series of bangs.

Twilight held her position for several seconds as the banging of chitin against crystalline walls continued, and then pulled away with a weary sigh. “Ok,” she said breathlessly, “That should hold them.” She turned her head and gave Citrine a strained look. “Citrine, what universe did you connect us to?!” she asked.

“How should I know?” Citrine responded hysterically. “It’s not Taryn, I’m at least ninety percent certain of that!”

“I am nintey-eight-point-five percent certain,” Pesci volunteered. “I have no records of any organisms similar to those existing on any Taryn world within my core data-banks.”

“Wait,” Bella said, giving the computer a bemused look, “how do you know things about Taryn?”

Pesci turned to look at Bella, its eyes a pair of upward-curving green lines. “My operating system’s core is derived from the PSC unit that originally belonged to Ashen Blaze,” it explained. “During my construction, I was provided with a copy of a significant portion of that unit’s accumulated memory data as a seed from which my present personality developed. That data remains in my memory, but this is the first time I have had to access it directly since being assigned to Princess Twilight Sparkle. I have data related to additional universes besides Equestria and Taryn, including Valden, D-”

“That will do, Pesci, thank you” Twilight cut in firmly. “Keep an eye on the room, will you?”

“As you will, Princess Twilight,” Pesci replied dutifully and turned to face the door.

“Right then.” Princess Twilight’s mane returned to its normal state, but her face remained hard as she turned her attention to Citrine again. “Where was I?” she asked.

“Something about how you made the original Taryn portal, I think,” Bella said.

“Right!” Twilight said as Citrine shot her fellow student a scathing look. “We only managed to do it by bringing together the right ponies with the precise set of skills and magic artifacts needed to design the mirror and safely traverse the void between universes, and even then I had to be in the Taryn universe when I cast the actual portal spell. What made you think you could do all that by yourself, Citrine?”

“You’d already done it once,” Citrine answered, sullen. “I figured that you and your assistants had already done the hardest parts: figuring out how the spell works and laying out the portal’s path through the between-space. Repeating the spell and following that old path should have been much easier than doing it the first time.”

Twilight shook her head. “Even if-” She froze with an expression of total disbelief as something tiny fell onto her head. Looking up, she saw a long crack in the corner of the wall and ceiling that was growing and splintering even as she watched. “Oh, don’t tell me,” she growled, and then dodged as a chunk of the ceiling fell, creating a hole from which emerged one of the spiked blue- and yellow-striped tendrils. “That’s Harmony-infused crystal strengthened with my own magic!” Twilight exclaimed as the tendril whipped around, widening the hole to let more of its kind out into the hall. “How are they breaking it?!”

“Force of numbers and pure, unflagging persistence is the most likely answer, Princess Twilight,” Pesci said, tilting up to scan the tendrils. “No substance is truly indestructible, after all.” It floated up to the ceiling to look at the hole and tendrils from a different angle, and then dropped back down to head height, its eyes blinking red warning symbols. “I detect other breaches in the walls!” it said. “Containment is unfeasible at this point, so I must recommend immediate evacuation of the castle.” As if to punctuate the declaration, one of the tendrils snapped toward the ponies, striking the floor right next to Bella.

Twilight grimaced, but she nodded. “Ok. Pesci, inform the guards,” she said, “and send a couple of them to evacuate the School, just in case. Tell them to go out through the tunnels to the Diamond Quarter. Girls, one of you find the cleaning crew and the other evacuate the library. I’ll try to slow these ones down.” She blasted the hole with a bolt of magic, causing the tendrils to withdraw for a moment. “We’ll meet up at Spike’s house.”

As Bella, Citrine, and Pesci took off down the hall, a fresh set of tendrils burst through the hole, expanding it down the wall and throwing out so much debris that Twilight was forced to retreat down the hall a little before trying to retaliate.

Some meis I’ve turned out to be, Citrine thought as she galloped. Letting my pride cloud my reason. Father would be so disappointed. How will I even start to apologize for this?

She quickly shoved her personal problems aside as she approached the doors to the Map room and saw Spike and his three cleaning assistants leaving it. “Hey!” Citrine shouted, interrupting Spike mid-sentence as she ran up to the group. “We have to get out of the castle, now!”

“Why?” Mandible asked.

Citrine blushed in shame but answered, “I might have screwed up a spell and set some kind of tentacle monster loose. It’s tearing through the castle faster than Princess-” A loud crash from the Map Room cut her off, and everyone ran to see what had happened. One of the tendrils had smashed through the back wall and was whipping about looking for something else to break.

“Yikes!” Spike exclaimed, and then charged into the room to try and fight the tendril off. Before he reached it, however, the tendril suddenly twitched, went limp, and then dropped to the floor as the hole it had made closed up and cut it off.

“Hey,” Citrine said, looking hopeful, “the Castle’s fighting back! Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.”

“I’m afraid it is still bad, Citrine.” Everyone turned to look as the Map lit up and projected an image of Harmony in the air. “These alien things are too numerous and too strong; the best I can do is keep the castle from falling apart completely and insure that they do not get into this room. You must all get out and seek help. Drive this incursion back before it spreads too far!”

The griffons and Mandible didn’t need to be told twice, running for the main doors as the sounds of more walls being broken started echoing through the castle, but Spike and Citrine hesitated. “Harmony?” Citrine asked, “do you know what these things are?”

The spectral image shook its head. “No,” it said. “They are not of Equestria. Now go!”

With a flash of light, Twilight teleported to the front yard of Spike’s house. A quick look around told her that Bella, Citrine, Spike, and Pesci were already there and the creatures who had been in the library were still fleeing toward Ponyville proper under the guidance of the castle guards. Looking toward the castle, Twilight’s breath caught in her throat. It was still standing, but by now the strange spiky tendrils had breached the outer walls and wrapped themselves around most of the structure. It reminded Twilight of the Plunder Vine incident, but this time it seemed that the latent power of the Haven of Harmony alone wouldn’t be enough to repel the tendrils.

“Is everyone ok?” Twilight asked.

“The library’s clear,” Bella reported. “Everyone got out before any of those things got to the library. We had to leave most of the books behind, though.”

Twilight grimaced at the thought of her precious library collection being torn apart, but valiantly fought the feeling down. “Books can be replaced,” she said grimly. “How about the School?”

Pesci’s eyes took on a satisfied shape. “I went there with the assigned Guards,” it said, “and the evacuation appeared to be proceeding in a quick and orderly manner. Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo have taken charge there.”

“Good,” Twilight said, relaxing slightly. “Looks like things have calmed down now, though. Now, we need to push back.”

“How are we… going to do that?” Citrine asked, nervously.

Twilight gave her a hard look, and then turned to Spike, saying, “I don’t think there’s enough of us here to be able to fight through the whole castle without getting surrounded. Spike, send a message to Princess Celestia, please. Tell her I need an emergency mobilization of the Guard, at least a full company, mostly unicorns and earth ponies. Maybe a couple dragon volunteers, if there are any.”

“On it,” Spike said, nodding before running into his house to find pen and paper.

Twilight turned back to Citrine with a severe frown that made the young unicorn’s ears fold completely flat against her head. “As for you, Citrine,” Twilight said, “I think your punishment for all this will start with joining me in getting back to the portal and-”

“Princess Twilight!” Pesci trilled in alarm. “There’s new movement from the castle!”

Grumbling, Twilight looked up at the castle again. “Now what?” she asked.

Six chitinous tentacles, each as thick as a tree, burst out of the top of the castle and shot out in different directions before spearing back into the ground at six perfectly equidistant points, one of which was nearly on top of Spike’s house. Spike came running out, holding a half-finished letter in his hand, to join the ponies in pulling back to a safer distance. The tentacles drilled deeper into the ground for several seconds, and then began to pulsate and expand, transforming into what looked like some kind of six-sided building with yellow, fin-like eaves sweeping out and up every ten feet. Spike’s house was demolished and swept away by the growing structure, which detached from the tentacle that had spawned it after reaching a height of about five stories. Creeping, twisted tendrils shot out from the base of the buildings, linking the six together in a perfect hexagon and connecting them all back to the castle.

Pesci’s eyes suddenly blinked red warning signs. “Krxstiul! Krxstiul hive buildings!” It screamed. “Evacuate the city! Full-scale military response required!”

“Wha-” Twilight began, only to stop when Pesci pressed up close to her face.

“I can’t explain here, Princess Twilight,” Pesci insisted. “It is rapidly becoming too dangerous to remain this close! Run! Now! And call for EVERYONE with military training!” Without waiting for a response, the computer zoomed away, screaming an alarm as loud as it could.

Spike and the ponies exchanged shocked looks. “I take it Pesci knows what’s going on now?” Spike asked.

The strange building started producing organic noises as openings formed in corners of the base and new tendrils started to slither out toward the group. Twilight blasted the closest one before snapping, “Let’s take its advice then! Run! Spike, new letter: we need-”

“All the Guard,” Spike said, putting pen to paper as he took to the air, “already writing.” He wrote as quickly as he could while keeping an eye on the situation. The unicorns were putting up a valiant fight, but there were simply too many tendrils just from the one structure for them to be able to destroy them all. Most of the tendrils that slipped through started weaving in and out of the ground and twisting around one another, trying to trap the ponies inside hexagonal pens.

Spike finished the letter with an excessively underlined plea for urgency and then spat out a tongue of flame to send it on its way before diving back to the ground. He landed just in time to help Citrine burn back one of the encroaching walls so that everyone could escape. “The letter’s sent,” he reported as the group pulled back to the next closest Ponyville building.

“Good,” Twilight said. “now let’s hope that help arrives soon.”