Alduin Unbound

Well, here's chapter five. Hope it meets the expectations of anyone who's been waiting. As always, bold indicates extreme volume, italics indicate book excerpts and flashbacks.

1. The Second Coming

And he descended upon Arda in power and majesty

greater than any other of the Valar,

as a mountain that wades in the sea

and has its head above the clouds

and is clad in ice and crowned with smoke and fire.

J. R. R. Tolkien- The Silmarillion

A Definitive History of Mundus: Volume 1- The Dawn Era

by Aicantar of Shimerene (Revised and appended by Fal Droon of Balmora.)

In the beginning, there was no earth, merely the gods adrift in chaos. The greatest of these, whom mortals call the Nine Divines and Daedric Princes, wearied of the endless void.

And so they gathered the very fabric of creation and spun themselves tapestries of great beauty and color. Into these works of art they breathed the essence of their divinity, and worlds were born from the images therein. Each a separate plane of existence, a living world maintained and ruled by the god who gave it form. We know these as the planets that drift in the night sky, and the spheres of Oblivion that lurk in the darkness between stars.

Well pleased with their efforts, the Daedra withdrew to their realms, content to order and manipulate their children as they saw fit. But the Aedra were troubled, for in their wisdom they saw that to control existence was to limit it. What beauty was there to life if it could not grow, could not learn, could not love or hate or choose its own path? And so they reshaped the worlds, striving to create beings more like themselves. But their efforts were in vain, for without the divine spark of Sithis or Anuiel, their creations were naught but mindless drones.

Despairing, the gods convened, that together they might resolve this terrible problem. It was there that the trickster god, Lorkhan, whom men call Shezarr, raised his voice.

'We have all toiled in solitude, making worlds within ourselves and of ourselves. How then, can we expect our creations to be anything but extensions of our spirits? Let us band together, and make a new world which none control, but which lives and flourishes through our combined efforts.'

All agreed this was an idea of merit, and Magnus was chosen as architect for this construction. Drawing up the plans, he christened it Nirn: The Arena.

Carefully, lovingly, the Aedra molded this new world. They sculpted the earth and poured out the seas. They formed plants and beasts of all shapes and sizes, giving them reign to spread and multiply over the land. When at last the world was complete, the gods looked upon the works they had wrought and were again moved to despair. For the world of Nirn was of Magnus' design, himself birthed of chaos. Thus it was unstable and violent, and it took all of their might to keep the plane itself from tearing asunder. In desperation, many lesser spirits sacrificed themselves to merge with the fledgling planet, forming the earth bones that even now form the core of our home.

With a heavy heart, Magnus gathered his spirit children and departed Mundus, bringing stability at the cost of magic. Yet he still desired that we make use of his power, and so he left the sun and stars as holes through which the magic of Aetherius might still reach our world. Thus, magic was not lost to mortal kind.

Now the world was stable and prepared for its mortal inhabitants, and the lesser et'Ada were forever trapped upon Nirn. They took physical form and appearance, becoming the first ancestors of the men and mer and beastfolk of the modern day. Yet even this was in vain, for in becoming mortal, the spirits forfeited their divine heritage, and with it their free will and thought.

So it was that Lorkhan offered up his very heart to form the core of this new world, that the spark of godhood might never be lost to our kind. In respect of this sacrifice, Akatosh fired the heart deep into the soil of Nirn and broke the god's plane in half, placing them as two great moons in the sky, that we might never forget the gift that was bestowed upon us.

With Lorkhan's heart sustaining the world, only one task yet remained.

Upon their death, the souls of the first mortals drifted aimlessly in the space between Nirn and Oblivion. Here, they were easily preyed upon by the Daedric hordes that delighted in stealing away these souls for their own perverse amusement.

For a final time, the gods met and debated as to how best protect and guide the mortal souls back to the light of Aetherius. It was decided that one of their number should reside upon Nirn to watch over our people in life, and lead them safely to paradise in death. What could not be decided was which of them should make the sacrifice.

When no agreement could be reached, a new voice spoke forth. This voice belonged to Alduin, first and greatest of the sons of Akatosh. He alone possessed the courage to accept this burden, dooming himself to a life removed from his father's realm. Moved by his selflessness, his brethren came to his side, each decreeing to serve and to follow him in this duty.

The gods approved, and bequeathed the inhabitants of Nirn to the lordship of the dov, be us theirs to shepherd and protect. In their last moments upon Aetherius, Akatosh put a blessing upon his children, imbuing the power of creation and destruction into their very speech.

Thus was The Voice first granted to the dragons, and the rightful rule of Alduin established.

Author's addendum:

It is unknown when the dragons first descended to the mortal realms, but Ehlnofey oral traditions predating the Psijic Order offer a vivid, if ignorant depiction of their arrival.

Our elders tell of a great fire in the sky. Thunder shook the ground, though no cloud could be seen. What followed was a ball of fire, too bright for any to gaze upon. Some believed that the sun had been struck loose from the heavens, for what else could cast such a terrible light? With it came great tongues of flame, plummeting out of the sky. Our people hid and bowed their heads, fearing that the stars themselves were raining upon us. But the gods were with us, for the fires passed overhead to strike the barren lands of the north. Where they fell, smoke and flame stretched higher than mountains. Our bravest warriors journeyed to search for these fires, but returned to speak of terrible monsters. Winged beasts of tooth and claw, whose voices could shape the very world.

In all honesty, she should have expected something to go wrong.

The first months of the third year were as calm and peaceful as any she could remember. The prophetic eclipse had been all but forgotten by the majority of her subjects. The slowly evolving preparations for her sister were proceeding easily and discreetly. Even the Heart of Penumbra had faded back from the public eye, though the cult's members were often sighted moving from town to town.

Most important of all, it was almost time for her egg to hatch.

The fourth month saw the return of her previous nervous energy. She had fully prepared the infant's living space, stocked upon all the essential materials, and read every book pertaining to dragon hatchlings at least three times.

She was excited, giddy even, and she could swear that every night when she retired to bed, she could feel the slightest bits of movement from within the shell.

'Soon,' Celestia thought as she lay quietly in the dark, a hoof running gently over the egg's surface. 'You'll be with me soon…'

The fifth month arrived, and then the sixth. Her excitement gradually mellowed back into a calm acceptance. She savored these last anticipatory days, knowing that no matter what the future had in store, she would never experience anything quite like this again.

The seventh month came and went. Celestia remained resolute. 'It will hatch when it's ready,' she continued to remind herself. 'Just give it time.'

When the colors of the leaves began to change, she became anxious. When the leaves began to fall, she became afraid.

Autumn slipped into winter, and the egg lay still. Truly worried, Celestia had meticulously reexamined the book on hatching, certain that an explanation would be found. No solution presented itself. In desperation she relayed a message across the kingdom, summoning the book's author to Canterlot with the greatest haste.

The first snows fell, and she held the egg closer at night, begging silently that it be safe.

The fourth year dawned cold and bleak. Temperatures plummeted throughout Equestria, the rays of the sun seeming to dim with each passing week. Though ponies everywhere struggled through the remaining months of winter, only those in Canterlot understood the reason.

Their princess was being eaten away by grief. They could see it in her frail smile, in the defeated slump of her shoulders, and in the deep and immutable sadness that filled her violet eyes.

"Which brings us to our next order of business, the applications for next year's enrollment in the school for gifted unicorns…"

"Sweet Grass?"

The earth pony halted in the middle of his report and turned his eyes to the throne. Like many of the castle staff, it was only his years of discipline and poise that kept him from visibly wincing.

Celestia's once immaculate body was almost unrecognizable. Her coat, once an ethereal white, was now the pale grey of an overcast winter's sky. Her mane, usually flowing and buoyant from her magical aura, hung flat and lifeless.

She reminded him of a painting whose color was beginning to fade.

"Yes, your majesty?" He straightened up and pushed these observations to the back of his mind.

"Can we postpone the remaining business until the morrow? I'm afraid that I simply have too much on my mind to focus properly."

That was a definite understatement, though he'd never dream of saying it aloud. Instead, he gave Celestia what he hoped was a confident smile and nodded his head.

"But of course, your majesty. I'll reorganize tomorrow's schedule to accommodate the postponed meetings, as well as inform your remaining appointments to return tomorrow."

"Please convey my sincerest apologies," she requested before stepping down from the throne and exiting the hall.

Sweet Grass blew out a long, frustrated breath. This was bad. Extremely bad. For all of his doom and gloom mentality, even he had to admit that this time there was no over-embellishment necessary. For an entire year, Celestia's fatigue had interfered with just about every facet of courtly business. It was bothersome enough that the amount of postponed daily reports was rapidly accumulating, but the documents constantly arriving from Cascade and Ryegate were driving him mad! Equipment requisitions, updates on troop deployments, absurdly detailed tactical manifests that demanded analysis and confirmation. Even now, they were infesting his once orderly desk, still awaiting Celestia's approval while more continued to arrive.

The sheer inefficiency of the situation mortified him. At the rate they were falling behind schedule, he doubted they'd even stand a chance at preventing the imminent apocalypse. They were doomed, ruined! They needed a damn miracle!

"You there, majordomo!"

The green stallion snapped out of his soliloquy and looked to the main entrance, where a chocolate-brown unicorn was sauntering in through the doors. He narrowed his eyes. Definitely not a Canterlot citizen, this one. "Yes… sir. What can I do for you?"

The unicorn seemed to puff up at being addressed. "Ah, right to the point, that's a good colt! Kindly direct me to the princess, won't you? I've a most pressing matter to discuss."

Condescending, self-entitled and possessing no regard for proper manners… Sweet Grass found himself hating this stallion immediately. Clearing his throat, he tried to adopt a tone of polite regret.

"Unfortunately, the princess is no longer taking audience today. Should you have or wish to schedule an appointment, please return tomorrow morning."

The unicorn scoffed. "Now listen here, my dear fellow, I can assure you that this business simply cannot…"

"Unless it is a matter of national security or personal interest to the princess," Sweet Grass interjected. "It WILL have to wait."

"And what if I told you that it was such a matter," the pony asked haughtily.

Sweet Grass gave a poisonous smirk. "Then you can relay this information to myself or another of the stewards, and we will determine if it merits her attention."

The unicorn stomped a hoof on the floor. "My time is too valuable to be spent pandering to servants! I will speak with the princess, or not at all!"

"Excellent! In that case…" Sweet Grass clapped his hooves, calling over one of Celestia's guards.

"Captain Phalanx," he addressed the pegasus. "Please remove this miscreant from the castle as harshly as you deem appropriate."

"Sir," the guard responded. Waving over two more of his comrades, he moved to set a hoof across the visitor's back and begin shoving him to the door.

Without warning, the unicorn's horn gave off a searing flash of light. Everypony in the room was blinded, many sinking to the ground and throwing a leg over their faces to try and ward off the glare. As the guards stumbled back, the unicorn took the opportunity to make a dash for the second floor.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," he taunted down the stairs. "But I really mustn't keep the princess waiting, and seeing as you're all a tad occupied, I'll simply find her myself. Toodles!"

Phalanx was the first to stumble to his hooves. Whirling around, he fixed the other guards with a glare fierce enough to turn a cockatrice to stone.

"Track. Him. Down."

He paused at the threshold, the first stirrings of unease building in his chest. Only a scant few inches from his talons lay the edge of Aetherius. Beyond was Oblivion.

Alduin looked back. Clustered behind him were his brothers. Krahjotdaan, Nahagliiv, Numinex, Ahbiilok, and countless others. Fear plain on their faces, but well and prepared to follow, should he leap into the abyss.

And further behind perched Akatosh himself. Silent, but the god's face was warm with care and trust.

Emboldened, Alduin whispered a prayer of thanks to his father, swearing that he would not fail in his task.

He looked again to the edge. The chaos of Oblivion pulsed and churned expectantly. For a moment he beheld it as a living entity; hungry, depraved, and yearning to devour him whole. Before they could reach Mundus, they first had to pass through its jaws.

This would be the first test of his mettle as king and warden. To ferry his brethren safely through the howling darkness, to reach the mortals who so greatly needed their aid.

Turning to Paarthurnax, he gave one command before striding forth. "I will cleave a path. Follow in my wake, and do not stray. Fly strong, fly fast, and stop for nothing."

It was like stepping from a calm shelter into a maelstrom of shrieking wind. He was tugged violently into the current, the force pulling, pushing and tossing him in every direction as unseen forces battered his body. He slashed and tore with claws and teeth, carving his way through the essence of chaos. Somewhere behind, the others strained and pushed to reach him. Beckoning them on, he descended into Oblivion.

The setting sun hovered just over the mountains, but the light and warmth it cast was completely lost to the alicorn as she came to a stop at the balcony's edge. Instead, her gaze was drawn to the scenery beneath her hooves. While the balcony was not the greatest vantage point in the world, it was the view she most enjoyed.

The streets and buildings of her city sprawled out before her. Further below was the city of Ponyville, and beyond it the Everfree forest. Her people. Her subjects.

The last few months had taken a heavy toll on her, culminating in an almost crippling exhaustion these past weeks. For a time, everything had seemed so futile. It had been easy to dwell on her failures, to give up and simply await the inevitable. For a time, she had indulged her grief-stricken emotions, but enough was enough. Celestia was a pony of action, and she certainly wasn't going to accomplish a bucking thing moping about and feeling sorry for herself.

She needed… clarity. Leaning over the railing, she forced herself to stare out over the land, unmoving and unblinking until her eyes watered and burned. She recited names, every stallion and mare and foal that she knew or could remember who trusted and depended upon her. She reminded herself of the upcoming storm and her mission, whose importance was too great to even consider failure.

She breathed in. Out. Her thoughts grew clearer as the sun sank lower in the sky. The last traces of despair washed away in the face of a new determination. She was not going to fail. Her people. The egg. Luna. She wouldn't let them down. Any of them.

With a final nod at the setting sun, she turned and headed back into her room. A good night's sleep, and she would be ready to get back to work.

"COME BACK HERE!"

The contemplative silence was broken by a chaotic uproar outside her chambers. Multiple hooves banged against stone as ponies rushed down the hall in what sounded like a veritable stampede.

She heard the low hum of a spell being charged, and then came the sound of several ponies yelling in surprise as a hollow thud rang out from further behind. If she had to guess, it sounded like one of the decorative suits of armour had been knocked… or thrown into the pursuers.

"Quickly, he's getting away! After him!"

The sounds of pursuit returned, and Celestia began to recognize the voices of her guards mixed into the chorus of shouts, curses and taunts that echoed up and down the corridors. Deciding that it was time to investigate, she stepped out into the hall.

Turning corners and racing down halls, Celestia followed the chaotic sounds as best she could. Unfortunately, the sheer volume of noise made it exceedingly difficult to track. Fortunately, she didn't have to search long.

Rounding the corner, Celestia saw three of her guards hunting a brown, maniacally laughing unicorn. The stallion was barely outpacing the pegasi, using his magic to send paintings, vases, and other manner of decorations hurling back as obstacles to keep his pursuers a step behind.

"GOT YOU!"

With a bellowing war-cry, one of the guards leapt forwards, catching the unicorn in a spectacular tackle. The two hit the ground and rolled, knocking over several more irreplaceable works of art before coming to a stop mere feet from Celestia's position.

To his credit, the unicorn was already recovering and attempting to scramble away, only to be tackled by a second guard, and then the third, resulting in a very unpleasant-looking dogpile.

The captain bit down on the unicorn's tail, earning a painful yelp as he began to drag the intruder out of the pile.

"You are hereby charged with the crimes of trespassing, resisting arrest, magical assault on castle staff, physical assault on the royal guard, disturbing the peace, and conspiracy to commit criminal mischief," he declared through a mouthful of hair. "In accordance with the laws of Equestria, I place you under…"

"Phalanx, stand down," Celestia ordered, choosing that moment to intervene before a fight, arrest, and most likely beating took place in her presence.

The pegasus bolted upright, bringing a hoof up in salute while spitting out the tail. "Princess! Please forgive us for disturbing you, but it was necessary to capture this hooligan!"

"HOOLIGAN!" The unicorn fumed angrily from beneath the other stallions. "I've never been so insulted in all my… well within the past week, at the very least!"

"So I see," Celestia commented, watching as a pair of brown hooves emerged from the pile and flailed about. "Could you perhaps explain the situation?"

"Certainly! No less than half an hour after you took leave of the hall, this stallion…" he gave a sharp kick to the unicorn's exposed hindquarters, eliciting an indignant squawk. "Marched inside as though he owned the place, and immediately demanded to see you. When informed of the impossibility of this request, his attitude turned hostile and-"

"I most certainly did not," the unicorn protested, finally managing to wiggle his way out of the dogpile. "Acting as though I'm some common ruffian! I'll have you know that I am a well-respected scholar and researcher, and that I was summoned by the princess herself!"

Celestia blinked. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The unicorn grinned and lifted his nose pompously. "Perhaps not, but you certainly know OF me! Ronan of Baltimare, humbly at your service!'

Celestia only looked at him blankly. The name was familiar somehow, but his vague statements were doing nothing to jog her memory.

He glanced between her and the guards, a small hint of nervousness creeping into his speech.

"The… foremost expert on draconic life cycles? Author of the only published text on…"

"The process of incubating and hatching dragon eggs through nonconventional means," Celestia finished. The alicorn's posture was becoming tense, almost like a coiled spring.

"Indeed so! And it was to discuss that very work that I traveled here," Ronan stated confidently. Phalanx, however, remained unconvinced.

"If that was the case," he said angrily. "Then you should have said so in the first place!"

"Announce myself?" The unicorn seemed horrified at the idea. "A pony of my stature should need no introduction. I blame the whole matter on your shameful lack of familiarity with my work!"

Phalanx growled under his breath before turning back to the princess. "My lady, unless you have further business with this stallion, I will gladly escort him out of the castle."

"That will not be necessary, Captain. You may go."

"But your majesty," Phalanx tried to reason. "This pony is deranged! He's a menace!"

"And I wish to speak with him, if you will permit it?" Even if it was phrased as a question, the pegasus caught the slight edge in her tone that told him it would be a very poor decision to object.

"As you command," he intoned, giving a final salute before he and the guards headed back down the hall, though not without throwing a very dark glare Ronan's way.

"Well, I'm certainly glad THAT'S over," the unicorn said with a huff. "Uncivilized brutes, the lot of them! If you ask me, I think those helmets of theirs are on just a bit too tight."

Celestia smiled. "They take their duty quite seriously. You can't fault them for that." Stepping up behind him, her horn began to glow. "Now then, shall we get down to business."

"Ah, but of course! There's some manner of egg you want me to examine, yes? I suspected as much from the start; why else would you call an expert such as myself if not to aid in hat-"

There was a sudden burst of light, a feeling of disorientation, and they stood in Celestia's bedroom.

"-ching it?"

Celestia was already retrieving the egg from her bed, allowing the unicorn a few precious seconds to recover from the unexpected teleport. Placing it gently in front of his hooves, she stepped back to give him room to study it.

He looked down, seeing just what she had placed before him, and it felt as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. Despite all of his research on the subject, it had been years since he had seen an authentic egg so close. Just the thought of that amazing creature hidden beneath its shell, the potential, the power, the beauty, it was breathtaking.

"May I," he whispered, a strange hesitance taking hold.

Celestia nodded.

He sank to the floor, pulling the egg closer and rotating it between his hooves. "Remarkable coloration," he mused. "Definitely indicative of a cross-species union, and these spots… I've never seen any permutation of this nature…"

She watched as Ronan continued his examination. His focus had not strayed from the egg for even a moment, muttering to himself as some new detail caught his attention. She only hoped that he could find something she had missed.

"…its affinity?" his voice interrupted her musings.

"I'm sorry?"

"You have a copy of my book," he said. "And I assume that you've already tried hatching this prior to summoning me."

He finally looked up and met her gaze. Realizing that he expected a response, she nodded. "So did you determine its elemental nature?"

"Oh! Oh, of course! The spell your book described proved it to be of fire affinity."

The unicorn grinned. "Ah, the element of duality! Passionate affection and raging destruction! Soothing warmth or suffocating heat. Fitting, very fitting!"

Coughing awkwardly, he continued. "So then how did you proceed to incubate this little one?"

Celestia brought a hoof to her chin in recollection. "I placed it in a magically sustained fire of roughly six-hundred and seventy degrees for sixteen hours a day, with the remaining eight used for incubation at a lower temperature."

He nodded. "Excellent. Am I also to assume that three years have passed since you began the process?"

"Four and a half, actually."

"Just as I thought. And I'm certain that it never occurred to you to simply use your magic and hatch it yourself?"

Celestia's smile vanished. "What?"

Ronan chuckled, an egotistical smirk plastered onto his face. "No reason to blame yourself, your highness. It's a perfectly reasonable mistake, especially for somepony unfortunate enough to be using an outdated copy of my book. You see, I recently discovered that oftentimes incubation alone was insufficient for the final hatching event. In these cases, it was a simple matter of using magic to stimulate the egg into reaching its elemental zenith! By duplicating the embryonic…"

Celestia closed the distance in a matter of seconds, her face inches from his own, a combination of disbelief and barely restrained impatience shimmering in her eyes.

"You can hatch it? Right this minute?" Her voice was quivering, as if she expected it to be a joke at her expense.

"Ye… ye… yes," he stuttered, suddenly having a very good idea of what it was like to stare down an incoming solar flare.

"Then do it! Right now, quick! No time to lose," she urged, almost hopping in place from excitement.

Ronan stepped backwards, trying to compose himself as the alicorn's gaze darted between himself and the egg. Assuming a confident pose, he leveled his horn at the egg and readied his magic.

"Very well! Prepare to be amazed, your highness. Behold; the miracle of life, achieved through arcane improvisation!"

His horn flared with light, and a bolt of energy burst from the tip and struck the egg with a bang.

And then promptly ricocheted straight back at Ronan's face.

His vision blurred as the missile caught him in the forehead, exploding on contact and throwing him into a wall.

He lay dazed for several minutes, only to be pulled back into awareness by the princess shaking him with a hoof.

"That wasn't supposed to happen…"

Before Celestia could inquire as to his wellbeing, Ronan was already up and making his way back to the egg. Examining the surface, his jaw dropped before he let out a joyful shout.

"Remarkable! Truly remarkable! Just look," he gestured wildly at the eggshell. "Not a scratch, nor a mark, nothing to suggest that the spell even made contact! Unprecedented! I've never seen anything like it!"

Before she could respond, he was repeating the spell, taking care to adjust the angle of the shot. Again, the bolt struck with a bang, and again it was deflected upwards to crash harmlessly into the ceiling.

"Amazing! An anti-magic field! Perhaps it's some natural defense mechanism passed down genetically by a parent? Or perhaps it was created through a self-replicating enchantment prior to its discovery! Strange that the egg can still be levitated… perhaps the field only manifests when magic would otherwise pierce the shell?"

"Can it still be hatched?" Celestia repeated herself for the fourth time, beginning to wonder if it would take a punch to the head to get the stallion out of his rant.

"Hatched? Well… you see… I believe so," he responded, though the tone in his voice indicated that he no longer had the slightest idea. "That is… if the field could be penetrated. But it's difficult to say how that might be accomplished. It might be a matter of overloading the field with a powerful enough spell, or maybe scanning its modulation and targeting the weakest section of the frequency."

She thought it over. "Will you teach me the hatching spell?"

"Gladly," he said, overjoyed at the chance to test his theory. What an excellent chapter it would make! Overcoming Harmonic Oscillations in Embryonic Forcefields. Quickly explaining the spell's mechanics, he stepped to the side and stared intently at the princess as her horn began to spark.

Celestia gathered her power, ensuring that the spell's magnitude was several degrees higher than that of her compatriot. Satisfied that its power was sufficient, she aimed down her horn and let fly. The blast connected with the egg, and for a moment she could see a near-invisible barrier caving underneath her magic.

Then suddenly there was a loud bang, a rush of air, and the spell was on a collision course with its caster. Celestia threw herself to the side as the bolt sped past, and a resounding boom shook the castle, her much-abused balcony doors blown to pieces for the second time in the last half decade.

Knowing that any further attempts brought the chance of demolishing her room, Celestia refrained from a second try at the egg. Instead, she turned back to Ronan, who had adopted a 'duck and cover' pose the minute the alicorn's spell had backfired.

"Any other ideas," she quipped.

The unicorn lifted his hooves away from his forehead. His mouth opened and closed several times before he sighed. "I got nothing."

The princess nodded. "Likewise." She looked back at the egg. She had exhausted just about every option she knew of. Nothing had worked. Incubation had failed, pony magic had failed, even her own spells were inadequate. There was nowhere left to turn.

Unless...

"Tell me, Ronan," she said. "Would you be interested in helping me locate a dragon roost?"

His wings ached, his legs burned, and his lungs seemed to be filled with sludge. Still he pushed on, still clearing the path for his people. But his strength was flagging, and their pursuers were close behind.

A low whistling came from below, and Alduin tucked his wings and dove, scarcely avoiding the ballista shot that had been meant for his neck. All around, spells and arrows were arcing into the sky, forcing the dragons to dodge in all directions.

They were weaving through a dense forest, its trees climbing endlessly into the stormy sky. From below came the blood-chilling howls of werewolves, and further behind, the horns of the Huntsman trumpeting in challenge.

Alduin's neck bent and twisted, his eyes searching frantically for a fissure or weakness through which they could break free of the plane. Just as with the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon, or the Quagmire of Vaermina, Hircine had entrapped them within his realm, intending to hunt them down at his leisure.

He banked left, a stream of lightning crackling beneath him when he saw it. A break in the trees, and just beyond it, the telltale shimmer of a crack in the plane.

"BRETHREN! TO ME," he roared. From the forest floor, the arrows and bolts increased in number, as though the hunters knew that their prey was almost lost. Behind him, the others returned to formation, their wings fueled by adrenaline and fear.

Alduin drew back, neck curving in before thrusting his head forward.

"Kren… Gron LEIN!"

His thu'um reverberated through the still air, a rippling cone of force that rocketed ahead to strike the planar boundary. There was a tremble in the air, then a shudder, then a violent spasm as a black and pulsating hole was torn in the fabric of reality. A portal back to Oblivion. Their only way out.

Another whistle from below, and Alduin's heart clenched as he heard the sickening crunch of punctured flesh and the agonized shriek of a kinsman. Looking back, he saw Dunovzin fall, a ballista's harpoon lodged in his chest, wing pinned to his side by the weapon's shaft. The dragon plummeted to the forest floor, smashing branches and limbs before striking the ground with a bone-shattering thud. Dark, fur-covered shapes leapt from the underbrush, fangs glinting as they tore into the dragon's body.

Alduin halted, wings beating rapidly as he slowed to a hover just feet from the portal. The others paused, so unexpected was their leader's hesitation. Once again, he realized that they looked to him for guidance. Whatever the risks, they would stay at his side.

He cast a glance at the fallen dragon. The werewolves still swarmed over his form, pressed too closely for him to strike with his claws. In desperation, Dunovzin was sweeping his fiery breath over his torso, burning away his own scales to remove the attackers.

There was no time. Even if they could reach him, the portal would have long since closed. Though it pained his heart, his duty was to his people, and he could not sacrifice them all for the sake of one. Alduin's eyes locked with Dunovzin's, and a resigned acceptance shone in the younger's eyes.

With a heavy heart, Alduin turned and leapt into the portal, his brother dragons following soon after. As the rift mended and shrank, a muscular shape emerged from the foliage. A tall, humanoid figure, its head was the bleached skull of a deer, and in its hand was a fearsome ebony spear.

The portal winked shut, and Hircine drove his spear through Dunovzin's skull with a spray of dark blood.

It was a dark and ominous cave. This would seem normal for any cave, particularly one so deep in the Everfree Forest, but this one in particular carried a greater sense of menace. The entrance was huge and foreboding, its edges marred by scrapes and gouges where something had carved it out of the cliff's face. Deeper inside, the grey stone was swallowed up by an inky blackness, making it all but impossible to guess at how deeply into the earth the tunnel extended.

Celestia stood at the opening, the egg held carefully between her wings. It was not the shadowy gloom of the cave that gave her pause, but rather the creature that she knew dwelled within. Still, she had spent eight months tracking down this lair. She was not going to let cold feet stand in her way. She gathered her wits, sucked in a deep breath, and yelled into the cave.

"I SEEK WORDS WITH THE LORD OF THIS FOREST! LET HIM COME FORTH, IF THIS BE WHERE HE RESIDES!"

Her words echoed down the tunnel, eventually fading into nothingness. Minutes passed, and the silence remained unbroken. Celestia was beginning to wonder if perhaps she had picked the wrong cave, and then she heard it.

From deep in the blackness came a series of dull, whispering booms, like thunderclaps far in the distance.

boom… boom…

Celestia braced her legs. Goddess or no, she understood the risks that came from choosing to confront a dragon in its own lair.

BOOM… BOOM…

Her wings gave an experimental twitch, ready to immediately take to the sky if the creature proved hostile.

BOOM… BOOM…

A shape emerged from the gloom, scarcely able to fit through the stone tunnel. First she saw its head. Orange, smoldering eyes fixed above a snarling mouth full of dagger-sharp fangs. Next was a long, serpentine neck, tipped with bladed spines that ran down the length of its massive back. Muscled forearms rippled with every step, talons tearing new scars into the rock as it passed. Finally it emerged, jade scales gleaming in the moonlight, wings opening to add even more width to its already intimidating profile.

"Who dares to summon me so brazenly," it bellowed. "Such insolence will not go unpunished!" Flames hissed through its bared teeth as it took another deafening step.

Celestia forced down a laugh at the dragon's blustering. Now that she recognized him, his threats seemed far less malicious. "Yoo-hoo," she called. "Down here!"

The dragon's head snapped down, eyes slitted in fury as the flames from his mouth turned white-hot. "Foolish wretch! May whatever god you revere take pity on your damned…" His eyes finally settled on the white alicorn, and his murderous fury deflated.

"Hello Celestia," he grumbled.

"Wonderful to see you again, Cerridan," she replied. "My apologies for not announcing myself sooner, I couldn't help but enjoy your posturing.

The dragon sputtered. "That was an innate reaction to a perceived threat on my territory! It is instinctive, not some humorous neurosis!" He crossed his arms and scowled.

Celestia tried, really she did. But seeing such a ferocious creature pouting like a child was too much, and she eventually collapsed in a fit of laughter. Cerridan muttered to himself, but finally indulged in a light chuckle at his own expense.

When their laughter tapered off, the green dragon extended a claw in invitation. Graciously accepting, the princess stepped carefully onto his palm, tucking her legs under her as the dragon turned back into his cave. The two headed deeper into the earth, their conversation the casual banter of two long-separated friends.

At last they came to Cerridan's lair. The cavern opened to a massive amphitheatre, every inch of the floor covered in gold and gems. Momentarily stunned by the abundance of riches, Celestia barely noticed that Cerridan had lightly placed her on the ground and moved towards the largest pile of treasure.

The dragon let out a massive yawn, falling back on his haunches. The noise was enough to jolt Celestia from her trance, and she turned to see her draconian host splay himself out over the hoard, his expression one of restful content.

"So then, what brings you to my 'humble' abode," he inquired, a claw gesturing to the riches that surrounded them. "It must have taken quite some time to find me, so I doubt you simply came for a friendly chat."

Celestia blushed, feeling unexpectedly self-conscious at having her motives guessed so quickly. Levitating the egg from her back, she brought it closer to Cerridan's face, inwardly preparing for the worst. She expected disbelief, chastisement, perhaps even outrage. What she did not expect was to be congratulated.

The dragon beamed. "You've found yourself an egg! Marvelous!" He lowered his head, giving the egg a tentative sniff. "An excellent specimen as well. A male, I believe. Very strong, to have such a presence even before hatched. Yes… this will be a fine hatchling."

"Except that it will not hatch," Celestia interjected. Cerridan's eyes furrowed in confusion, so she quickly explained the difficulties she had encountered. Her initial discovery, its elemental nature, the time spent incubating. She was just describing the anti-magic field when he raised a claw to interrupt.

"You say this barrier deflected every spell cast at it," he stated. "And yet the egg still radiates energy, and is capable of being levitated or otherwise manipulated?"

"Well… yes."

The dragon rolled his eyes. "Pony magic," he said with a snort. Peering down, he re-examined the egg. The minutes ticked by as he studied every inch of the shell, even blowing a thin stream of fire across its surface. "You were correct in assuming that a barrier surrounds it," he said. "But it seems to be anti-entropic in nature."

The confusion must have shown on her face, because he continued immediately. "The barrier keeps it immune… no, removes it from the flow of time. It also prevents the transfer of energy past the egg's surface. Little wonder you were unable to hatch it; unless the barrier is removed, it will remain in stasis forever."

Celestia was stunned. Did this mean that the egg had been ready to hatch from the moment she found it? How long had it been waiting?

Cerridan extended a hand, his palm flat and hovering over the egg. "Shall I?"

She nodded, and the dragon's hand curled into a fist, one claw extended down. Sparks crackled around the digit, brightening and coalescing into an orb of light at the claw's tip. Delicately, he brought the claw down to touch the egg.

The orb of magic began to flatten, the barrier's resistance distorting its shape. Knowing what was about to happen, Celestia ducked. Her foresight was rewarded when a dozen beams of energy lanced off of the egg, drilling holes into the rock walls of the cavern. Cerridan himself was hit in the shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping his lips as he clutched his burned scales. Narrowing his eyes, he crouched in front of the egg and extended both hands.

"Celestia… stand back," he ordered.

As the princess complied, he cupped both hands around the egg, claws bent inward. Again, sparks crackled across his palms, a bluish light taking form between them. Lightning danced between his claws, bolts of energy streaking from one to the next. As she watched, the energy began to arc down towards the egg, only to be deflected back. Cerridan grit his teeth, pouring more energy into the arcane storm that was brewing between his hands.

"From… what I can tell," he explained. "Your mistake in trying to overload the field was only using a single focal point of magic… instead of multiple strikes across the barrier." He grunted in pain as another bolt was deflected back up and into his thumb. "If I can saturate the entire field with a great enough charge, it… should… be… enough…"

Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, the magic in his hands burning hot enough to melt glass. Beams of energy were streaming out from between his fingers, gouging crevices into the walls and ceiling of the cave. The low-pitched hum of his spell was building into a shrieking whine, and Celestia was almost afraid that his power would completely destroy the egg, rather than hatch it.

Suddenly there was a thunderous crack, and Celestia caught a glimpse of a thin sheet of fire wrapped tightly around the egg. The flames guttered and died, and as the field collapsed, Cerridan's magic was sucked in. It was as though an invisible whirlpool had opened. Wisps, then rivulets, then great streams of energy were being pulled out of the dragon's claws. The egg glowed and pulsed, almost hungrily drawing in more power. Cerridan cried out, eyes rolling back into his skull as he fell limp, yet his claws remained cupped around the egg, his magic still being siphoned.

Celestia dashed forward, horn glowing as she tried to pull those gargantuan hands away. It was a terrible strain, but finally one hand dropped lifelessly, trails of light still dancing between claws. Turning to the next, she succeeded in pushing it back. With the source of energy removed, the egg's glowing faded, and she could see a thin sheet of flame enveloping the shell before vanishing from sight.

Cerridan toppled over, coins and jewels thrown in all directions when he crashed to the ground. Celestia was at his side immediately, looking up in concern as the dragon's jaws moved wordlessly.

"Cerridan, are you alright? What happened? Say something!" Trying to snap him out of it, she kicked and struck his face with all the force she could muster, doubting that he could even feel the blows through his thick scales.

He finally looked down, though Celestia had the feeling that he was staring right through her, his eyes focused on something distant and immaterial, perhaps even nonexistent.

"I could see stars," he said at last. "Constellations, I think. They were shifting, or melting, becoming symbols that I could not understand. There was something else. A vision of the past, or… was it the future? I saw the lines of fate branching outward, a million possible outcomes for every act or event… and then the symbols blurred into a light. I can't describe… it was as though looking into it would answer all my questions at a terrible price."

Celestia remained silent, barely listening to the dragon's words. She had seen the barrier collapse. It was only after that the dragon's magic had been absorbed. Now that she knew how to break through, the rest would be simple! She had to get to Canterlot immediately! She was so close!

Cerridan watched as a familiar gleam came to the alicorn's eyes as she levitated the egg onto her back. He had a suspicious feeling that he knew what she was thinking. A frown crossed his face. "When it began drawing in my magic… I saw a dragon, but made out of fire. He was channeling my energy, preventing it from reaching the egg. He said nothing, but I felt as though he was telling me that it was too soon, that it was not yet time." He brought a hand to his face, claws pressing against his aching forehead.

"As tempting as it might be, I would advise you refrain from hatching it. Whatever rests in that egg, princess, it does not belong here. Let it remain inert. It is a danger to us all."

Celestia was about to retort when she felt a sudden pulse of magic. Strangely, it didn't seem to be coming from any particular direction. Rather, it was as though the shift was occurring from everywhere. But that would only happen if some magical artifact was diffusing… into…

Her eyes widened. The Elements! It was finally time!

She flew up to Cerridan's face and quickly embraced his muzzle. "It's been wonderful visiting you," she said. "But we really must be heading back. Fate of the world and all that. Hope to see you again soon!" And with that, she gave a furious stroke of her wings and sped back down the tunnel.

Cerridan groaned. As expected, she didn't listen to his advice in the slightest. Well, he supposed it would all work out in the end… though he had a strange feeling he would be seeing that egg again. Or rather… what was inside of it.

Hoofsteps clicked down the hallway, their rhythm quick and measured. From behind them came the uncoordinated racket of several other hooves struggling to keep pace.

Celestia rounded the corner, her councilors puffing and panting behind her. "Cascade, have your troops been redeployed?"

"As we speak, your highness. All highly trained in magical detection and positioned throughout the kingdom. Anything stronger than a teleport spell, and they'll catch it."

"Stillwater," she looked back at the tan pegasus. "How went the visit to Cloudsdale?"

He smiled. "Clear skies all around. The Equestrian Weather Service has sent word to each of its subdivisions with orders to suspend all operations for the next forty-eight hours, so any meteorological anomaly will be immediately noticed."

"What about observing the…"

"We have ponies keeping an eye on the seismometers, pyrgeometers and barometers," Sweet Grass interrupted. "We're observing magnetic fields, atmospheric phenomenon, you name it. Don't worry ma'am, if the Elements stir up anything, we'll know."

She nodded in satisfaction. "What about communication amongst the sensors?"

The general smirked. "Already taken care of. Several of the unicorns on monitoring duty are my own soldiers. They'll be capable of telepathically spreading the word the second something comes up. Of course, that's assuming it's not some supernatural light show that the whole world'll be able to see."

"Better safe than sorry," she replied, stepping out in the predawn morning. "The only thing we know for certain is that we'll see a brief spike of magical energy around each of the bearers that coincides with whatever physical sign the Elements create. If that sign is negligible, we may lose our chance of immediately locating the six."

"It will all be fine," the unicorn said, trotting back into the palace. "I've only got one more bit of business to attend to, and then I'll personally oversee the monitoring efforts."

Why don't you just relax," he called back over his shoulder. "Leave the rest to us, and try and forget about the Elements for awhile?"

She sighed. He was right, of course he was right. The situation was out of her hooves, in truth it had been when she first discharged the Elements those three years ago. But there was still a desire, no, a need to remain involved. If only to prove to herself that she had done all she could. Equestria was her vessel, her ponies its passengers. If disaster struck, she would not be asleep at the helm.

She unfolded her wings, stepping out onto the dew-covered lawn. Behind her, the royal guard moved into takeoff position, no question or complaint on their lips.

Sweet Grass, however, responded in his usual fashion.

"Your majesty! Where are you going now? You just returned from a nightlong flight into the Everfree! Shouldn't you at least wait until sunrise?"

"It will just be for a short time, my friend," she said. "I'm certain you can handle things until I return."

"But… but…" the earth pony mentally scrambled for an excuse. "What about that unicorn filly you considered taking as your student? Her exam will begin in only a few hours!"

"Which is why I'm putting you in charge of overseeing the test, I have the utmost confidence in you," Celestia called from above, already rising higher into the morning sky. She could hear her steward mumble what sounded suspiciously like a string of curses before he and the remaining councilors headed inside.

Turning in the direction of the Everfree, she began the long journey back to the ancient castle, hopefully to check on the Elements for the final time.

As she flew, however, she failed to notice the trio of ponies watching her from the ground.

Anypony near the entrance to the School for Gifted Unicorns that morning would have been met with a bizarre sight. A violet filly was approaching the building, her back straight, shoulders squared, eyes cast forward like a prisoner marching to her own execution. On either side was an adult unicorn, presumably the foal's parents. Bringing up the rear was a large unicorn stallion, one eye scarred and useless. Adding to the strangeness of the situation, the elder unicorn looked to be holding back laughter.

Twilight Sparkle's gait began to slow as she came to the entrance, her hooves finally rooting themselves in place before the first step. Her rigid posture broke down into barely concealed panic. Her breaths became shallow, sweat trickling down her face. All of her studies and preparation and work suddenly seemed so ridiculous, nothing but a child's pretending.

Overcome by her anxiety, she started to back away from the doors, fully intent on retreating home to her safe, warm bed. Unfortunately, she found her escape route blocked.

Cascade looked down at her with a smile. "Now I know I'm not the smartest pony in Equestria, but even I can tell you're going the wrong direction, kiddo."

Twilight ducked her head, unable to meet the stallion's gaze. "I… I don't think I'm ready for this."

Cascade levitated her up to eye-level and nuzzled her cheek. "Now that doesn't sound like my Twilight," he chided gently. "Where's the little filly who always wanted to learn more? Who always had her nose in a book, even at the dinner table or in the bathtub? The one who couldn't wait for me to visit so she could show off her latest spell?"

Twilight brought up both hooves and hugged Cascade's neck. Burying her face into his mane, she whispered, "But I'm scared, Grandpa."

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," he assured her. "Everypony gets scared."

"Not you," she exclaimed, as if the very thought was inconceivable. "You're the bravest pony ever!"

"Even me," he said. "And do you want to know a secret?" The unicorn filly nodded frantically. Pulling back from the embrace, he looked directly into her eyes.

"Being brave doesn't mean you don't get scared. It means not letting that fear stop you. There are things in life, Twilight, that are so important or wonderful that not even fear can keep you from achieving them."

"Is this one of those things," she asked timidly.

"It certainly is."

"Then I'll try my best." Her tone was regaining its strength, the nervousness still in her eyes, but tempered and controlled.

"I'm sure you will." Pulling her closer, he whispered a soft 'good luck' and a softer 'I love you' into her ear before lowering her back to the ground.

"Now you get in there and kick some ass!"

"Dad…" Twilight's mother said disapprovingly. The filly giggled

"Don't worry, grandpa! I'll make you proud," she declared.

Cascade chuckled. "You already have, kiddo."

Her commitment restored, Twilight raced up the steps and into the school, her mother casting an exasperated look Cascade's way before she and her husband followed. The old stallion remained on the steps for a moment more, silently wishing his granddaughter the best in her upcoming trial.

An ebony shape moved between the trees at the edge of the forest. Aquamarine eyes watched the sky, sliding past the group of pegasi gliding overhead. It was the snow-white alicorn that the gaze was focused upon.

The figure slunk through the underbrush, finally entering an open clearing. A horn began to crackle and glow with energy, its tip locked on Celestia as she flew by unaware.

"I've got a clear line of sight. No wind to interfere with the shot," the unicorn announced, eyes momentarily leaving her target to glance at her two companions. They were both pegasi, one's coat was a burnished gold, the other's a dull orange. What all three ponies shared was the symbol on their flanks. It was the brand of a full moon, stamped directly over their cutie marks.

The unicorn's eyes snapped back to the princess. "She doesn't suspect a thing, won't have any time to react. If I can just cripple a wing, the fall will stun her enough that she'll be easy to capture." Her horn glowed brighter. "Taking the shot…"

The male pegasus slammed a hoof into her face, knocking her to the ground. "Idiot," he hissed, waving a hoof at the monarch's escort. "Did the large number of guards completely escape your notice? How do you expect to subdue the princess AND fight off nearly two dozen soldiers at the same time?"

The unicorn struggled to her feet, nursing the bruise on her muzzle. "Better to challenge the witch outright then slink about like rats in the bush," she spat. "Or have you forgotten that Lady Nightmare does not tolerate cowardice?"

"Neither does she tolerate stupidity," the second pegasus cut in, her eyes tracking the group's progress. "Follow them. An opportunity may present itself."

"What do you mean, you're not ready?"

The unicorn professor stepped back in surprise, a hoof raised defensively in the wake of the earth pony's anger. Licking her dry lips, she took a second to adjust her glasses, hoping that a moment or two of stalling would calm the stallion.

It didn't.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Sweet Grass demanded. "But what you are saying is that despite being aware of the situation for two weeks and occupying the school's position as Provost for Academic Affairs, you and your department have not devised a suitable test for Ms. Sparkle's entrance exam?"

"We… well we originally planned to simply alter the test's components," she explained hastily. "Choose a more difficult spell for the girl to cast and a less compatible focus medium, but then…"

"I am not interested in excuses!" Sweet Grass exhaled violently, breath hissing out through his teeth. His gaze flicked over to a clock on the office's wall.

"Her test begins in five minutes. You and the other professors will be there on time, despite your abysmal lack of preparation. If the test must be canceled, YOU are going to explain and apologize to that poor filly." His eyes narrowed. "Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she squeaked, rushing out of the office and down the hall. Stepping out and closing the door, Sweet Grass was about to depart when the full impact of the situation finally hit.

"I have the utmost confidence in you."

"OH DEAR SWEET GODDESS," he yelled. "What am I going to do? She trusted me to handle this situation! If she finds out that we had to cancel… I'll be sacked! Fired! Pink-slipped with no pay!"

He was on the verge of a full-blown panic when a condescending voice spoke up from behind.

"You know, I didn't believe it for the longest time, but it looks like the rumors are true after all."

Sweet Grass turned to see Ronan approaching, a lopsided grin adorning his face.

"You really don't have any settings between 'Calm' and 'Freak-out,' do you?"

"You! What are you doing here?"

The unicorn seemed to find the question amusing. "What indeed? If you mean why I am in the building, I'd remind you that as an associate professor of this school, I have every right to be here! If you're asking why I'm wasting my valuable time speaking to such an ungrateful twit as yourself, then I'm pleased to inform you that I have the solution to your troubles!"

The earth pony snorted. "And what would you know about my troubles?" As desperate as the situation was, he would rather face Cascade's wrath and Celestia's disappointment than ask this particular pony for assistance.

Ronan brushed off the insult, that aggravating smile never fading. "Let's cut to the chase. I know that you have a test to administer in only a few minutes. I also know that you have absolutely nothing prepared. Finally, I know of a perfect and readily available way to test this filly's skills."

Much as he loathed to admit it, Sweet Grass was intrigued. If the unicorn actually possessed the means to salvage this situation, then he supposed that once… just once… he could swallow his pride.

"You've caught my interest," he conceded. "What is this alternate test?"

Ronan gave a jaunty flourish and pulled a wooden cart from around the corner. And sitting on a pile of hay inside the cart… was Celestia's egg.

Sweet Grass was sure that his jaw hit the floor. "WHAT IN THE-"

A magical aura swirled around his mouth, clamping his lips shut. The unicorn rolled his eyes. "Can't you shut up for a minute? All this shouting can't be good for your blood pressure…"

Sweet Grass wrenched his head free and glared. "Have you gone mad? This is treachery! Heresy! Blasphemy! Stealing… no! Kidnapping her majesty's egg? HER CHILD? You'll be drawn! Quartered! Hung! Decapitated! All of the above!"

Ronan scoffed. "Oh come now! I'm not the same gate-crasher as before! I'm proven my loyalty! Besides, Celestia trusted me enough to let me try and hatch it, she obviously knows it's safe in my hooves."

Unwilling to give in, Sweet Grass tried a different approach. "So why use it for the test? If you were unable to hatch it, what makes you think this filly will be any different? Or are you purposely trying to fail her?"

"Of course not," Ronan said. "Granted, she might not be capable of hatching it, but that won't be the point of the test." He could see the earth pony's inquisitive look, so he continued.

"The egg has some manner of defensive barrier which reflects any magic that is cast towards it. Assuming her abilities are developed enough, any spell she attempts should be visibly deflected. In lieu of a proper exam, it's really the best way to gauge her magical prowess."

Sweet Grass remained silent. The idea was a good one, and if the barrier that Ronan mentioned did exist, it was unlikely anything would happen to the egg. But what if something…

"You're running out of ti~iiiiiime," the unicorn teased.

Grinding his teeth, Sweet Grass ran behind the cart and began rolling it down the hall.

They had stayed low, keeping their bodies pressed against tree trunks and under canopies on the off chance that one of the guards turned his attention to the undergrowth. Luckily, their quarry had simply flown on, seemingly unconcerned as to the thought of pursuit.

In time, they come to the ruins of a once great palace. They watched Celestia enter, the guards staying back in either respect or obedience. The cult neither knew nor cared what purpose the building once served, but if it was important to the princess… then perhaps it could somehow be used against her.

The three ponies bided their time until the princess emerged from the castle. They waited until she and her guards once more took wing, staying as still and silent as statues.

When the last pegasus was out of sight, the cultists rushed into the castle, certain that their efforts were to be well-rewarded. They combed through the ruins with fanatical energy, only to find empty rooms and abandoned junk.

"Have you found anything," the female pegasus called from the courtyard.

"Nothing," the black unicorn said with a sigh. She had been through just about every inch of this rock pile, and the only thing she had discovered were six worthless stone orbs. Unless the cult planned to ambush Celestia by dropping them on her head, she didn't see how they would be of any use.

"Keep looking!" Their leader's voice was impatient and frustrated. "From what I can tell, this is the location of the last battle between Celestia and Lady Nightmare! If so, then the Elements of Harmony should be close by!"

"Elements?" She cocked her head and thought. "Weren't those the six things that Celestia used to defeat Nightmare Moon?"

"Yes," he shouted back. "They're magical gemstones. Sparkly, glowy, probably lit up in all colors of the rainbow!"

The unicorn gave the room a quick glance and laughed. "Well, nothing like that around here," she announced. "Just a bunch of fossilized bowling balls." Giving a harsh kick to one of the pedestals, she trotted out of the room. Rejoining the others, she reported that the Elements were nowhere to be found. They realized that Celestia must have suspected their motives, and had no doubt spirited the Elements away to a safer location. They had hit a dead-end.

The leader sighed. "A pity. What a prize they might have made for Lady Nightmare, to be given the instruments of her previous defeat as trophies on the night of her return." Shaking his head, he motioned for the others to follow.

Disheartened, the three cultists headed back into the forest. None of them noticed that the Element of Magic was now precariously close to falling from its pedestal.

Twilight Sparkle thought she had been scared before. Looking back, her previous fear was miniscule, only the barest step above apprehension!

Now, though, she was petrified. Here she was, standing alone in the center of a vast and intimidating lecture hall, being scrutinized by four stern and downright unpleasant looking unicorns. Each of their gazes seemed to drill straight into her, studying and critiquing her with the same bored detachment as one might possess when examining a particularly loathsome insect.

She gulped, trying to keep from nervously shifting between hooves. Her eyes wandered across the ceilings, the walls, anywhere but the ponies that would decide her fate. She noticed her parents back against the wall, 'subtly' gesturing that she smile.

Obediently, she plastered the widest, fakest, flimsiest smile onto her face, hoping that she at least looked more relaxed than she felt.

She was startled by the sudden bang of an opening door. Turning to the left, she saw a disheveled earth pony panting for breath, his green coat soaked with sweat. Behind him came a dark-maned pony who pushed a wooden cart into the room before departing.

Seemingly satisfied, the green stallion threw a quick smile her way and climbed the steps to where the unicorns stood. Despite her nervousness, Twilight noticed him shoot a dark look at the assembled professors. It gave her a small boost of confidence to see them flinch under his glare. The earth pony exchanged a few hushed words with the professors before moving into a far corner of the room to observe.

The yellow professor cleared her throat and peered down at the egg for a moment before looking back at Twilight. "Well, Ms. Sparkle?"

Twilight stiffened. 'Well,' she mentally repeated. 'Well, WHAT?' They hadn't explained the test, they hadn't explained anything!

She looked back at the cart, examining the egg that lay inside. It looked familiar. She had seen pictures in some of her books that at least resembled it…

Suddenly it clicked. This was a dragon egg! And judging from the picture on the side of the cart… they wanted to her to… to… HATCH it!

She couldn't be more thrilled at her luck! She recently finished a book that on this very subject; had even stood in line for the author to sign his most recent edition! She thought back to chapter nineteen, recalling every detail and aspect of the spell used for hatching.

But could she do it?

Her previous euphoria came crashing down at the sudden realization. She might know HOW to cast this spell, but she had never practiced, certainly never tried it on a real egg before.

A cough from one of the professors brought her back to reality, and she looked up to see them staring down expectedly. She gulped and stepped backwards. It looked like she didn't have a choice. Ready or not, she had to try.

Twilight set her hooves, lowered her head, and concentrated. Well, actually, she TRIED to concentrate. Unfortunately, her own self-doubts, coupled with the stares of four impassive ponies, made it nearly impossible to effectively channel her magic. A few weak sparks and embers leapt from her horn, but nothing resembling an actual spell.

Her efforts halted at the sounds of quills against parchment. Completely forgetting about the egg, she looked up in horror to see the professors scribbling furiously on their scrolls. It felt like her stomach had been dropped into a bucket of ice water.

'Oh no,' she thought. 'They're going to fail me!' She quickly turned back to the egg, trying again and again to conjure the spell. Nothing worked. She needed a clear head and focused thoughts to effectively use her magic, and right now her emotions were far too unstable.

The scratch of quills continued, each scrape sounding like the pounding of a judge's gavel condemning her.

Unfit. Incompetent. Unskilled.

Worthless.

WORTHLESS.

She clenched her eyes shut, doing nothing to stop the tears beginning to fall. She couldn't give up! Her grandfather wouldn't quit, Celestia wouldn't quit!

Whispering a prayer to anyone who might be listening, she mentally focused everything she had on the egg and pushed.

They burst through the last membrane of Oblivion with a sharp ripping sound. The blackness parted to reveal nine shining jewels ahead. Mundus. The mortal realm. Alduin thanked the divines. There had been trials, disasters, and the loss of friends he would mourn for centuries, but their journey was at an end.

With his people following close behind, they passed the eight planets. Dibella, Stendarr, Arkay. With each stroke of their wings, Nirn grew closer.

They were almost home.

In Manehattan, an orange filly leaned out her bedroom window, legs folded on the sill as she looked out over the morning scenery. Eyes on the rising sun, her thoughts turned to family and the home she left behind.

The plane of Kynareth passed by, and now only two objects stood between the dragons and Nirn. The moons, Secunda and Masser. Once the realm of Lorkhan, they had split and withered with the sundering of the god's heart. The dragons slipped between the moons, and Alduin felt a shiver pass up his spine. It was a sobering thought, to remember that even the gods could die.

Beneath Cloudsdale, a pink-maned pegasus hovered in the midst of a crowd of animals, birds and butterflies. Feeling truly happy for the first time in ages, she lifted her own voice to mingle with the birdsong, content with the new friends she had made.

It is only when Alduin breached the atmosphere that he realized how quickly he was moving. The sudden air resistance staggered him, squeezing against his head and neck, slamming into his chest, wrenching his wings so violently he feared they would be torn from his body. The pain was so great that he failed to notice that his scales were glowing red.

On a cliff edge, in the middle of nowhere, a white unicorn filly was screaming at a rock. This hostile attitude towards an inanimate object could potentially be forgiven, considering that she was overworked, extremely stressed, and had been spent the night being magically dragged into the wilderness, all for a completely ordinary chunk of granite. With a dainty, ladylike growl, she took a breath and bluntly insulted the rock's mental faculties.

By the time he became aware of the heat on his body, it was too late. Alduin burst into flames. The black dragon screamed in agony, his wings beating in a desperate attempt to slow his momentum. His body continued to burn, though the thickness of his scales ensured his survival. Aching and fatigued, his wing-beats began to slow, then finally stopped. Once again, Alduin was in freefall.

Nudging the last pebble onto the pile, a pink earth pony lifted her head and looked miserably out over the rock farm. Her hair fell limp around her ears, her eyes as dull and lifeless as the stones littering the field.

He broke through the last layer of clouds, and his eyes widened at the sight. A new world, he was staring down a new, living world! For a moment, the pain was swept from his mind while he tried to process all the things he could see. Lush, green forests. Windswept deserts. Towering mountains capped with ice and snow. The blue trails of rivers, winding their way to lakes and seas. It was his world.

Alduin wept, his tears swept away by the onrushing air.

In the skies above Cloudsdale, a cyan pegasus rocketed towards the ground. Her eyes were squeezed shut as the wind whipped past, her wings flapping faster and faster. The speed built to a peak, and a mach field began to form in front of her hooves.

In the castle of the royal pony sisters, the Elements of Harmony let out the last traces of their power. For the briefest of moments, the stones glowed with their former color and intensity. Then, a sonic boom split the air, the force of its shockwave sending a tremor throughout the room. Already off-balance, the Element of Magic teetered, then fell from its pedestal.

It struck the ground with a crash, shattering into pieces.

Suddenly, Twilight felt as though a fire had been lit deep in her stomach. A sudden feeling of warmth filled her entire body, sending tingles and shocks racing down her legs. A sense of power, of invincibility took hold. She felt like she could run clear around the world, level a mountain, or even levitate the entire city of Canterlot without breaking a sweat! The warmth was still increasing, now an almost stifling heat emanating from her body. Surges of energy were crackling between the hairs on her mane, and arcs of electricity were jumping from leg to leg. The energy needed to be released. Fortunately for Twilight, her horn made an excellent discharge point.

The magic burst from Twilight's horn with a rush of superheated air. The force of the blast disintegrated the cart, shattered the windows, set fire to the rows of chairs, and threw every other pony backwards into the air.

The filly's horn was burning white-hot, glowing as brightly as the sun. Pure magic was streaking out of the tip, widening into a three-foot beam of solid energy centered directly on the egg. For a brief instant the anti-entropic field stood firm, and the beam refracted into thousands of thin spears of light that shot upwards, boiling and melting holes in the stone ceiling.

And then, the field collapsed, and Twilight's magic was sucked into the egg as though an invisible vortex had yawned open. The egg glowed red, then yellow, then finally a dazzling white.

Twilight was blinded. She caught a brief glimpse of symbols and patterns before her vision was swallowed up by a vast, shimmering light. There was something alluring about it, the promise of knowledge greater than any book or scroll could teach. Yet there was danger in that offering, as if the light would demand something precious in return.

She wanted to run, to escape, but something kept her rooted in place. The vision flickered, billowed, and took the form of a dragon. Its body was made of roaring flames, and yet no heat seemed to reach her. In its claw was the egg she had tried to hatch.

Twilight gasped when she noticed streams of magic flowing towards the egg, only to be drawn upwards and into the dragon's open maw. Her shock increased when she saw that the source was her still glowing horn. She tried to stop, but it was like she had no control over her body.

The dragon seemed to notice her presence. "FOOL! END THIS AT ONCE! YOU CANNOT BEGIN TO IMAGINE WHAT YOU ARE SETTING IN MOTION!"

She tried her best, did everything she could to end the spell, but nothing seemed to stem the outpouring of magic. She looked helplessly up at the dragon, unsure whether to apologize or beg for help.

With a roar, the dragon lunged forwards, a claw reaching down to snatch the filly up. Twilight shrieked in fright as she was lifted upwards, held fast in the dragon's burning talons.

"Please, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"INTENTIONAL OR NOT, YOU HAVE BROUGHT DOOM TO YOUR WORLD. THE TIME WAS NOT RIGHT, AND MY SON WAS NOT READY."

"Wha… what can I do to fix it," she stammered.

The dragon lifted its second claw, and Twilight could see the ribbons of magic connecting them.

"THERE IS NO TIME LEFT. WE HAVE ONLY ONE CHOICE."

The flames engulfed her, and Twilight began to scream.

"I AM SORRY…"

He was only a few hundred feet above the ground when a bright flash of color exploded before his eyes. A thundering boom shook the air, and a rainbow-colored ring opened around him. As the colors faded, he saw that the world had changed. Mountains, rivers, and forests had vanished or moved position. The once uninhabited land was dotted with towns and cities. Four-legged creatures of all colors and sizes watched him pass in amazement. He sped over a bustling metropolis, than a magnificent castle built into the side of a mountain, then finally a small village at the edge of a forest.

He was directly over the woods when the ground rose up to meet him. There was an overwhelming burst of pain, a great explosion of heat and sound, and then all went black.

The beam dissipated as Twilight's magic lost its focus. The unicorn's eyes glowed white, and her body became enveloped in a storm of magic. Her spell had ended, but the damage had been done.

The egg gave a final, desperate shudder, fighting to keep its occupant contained. Then the shell broke, a flash of light and echoing boom signifying the sudden displacement of magic. The world around it seemed to ripple, recoiling at the concussion of foreign energy that surged from the broken shell. The explosion rushed upwards, blowing the roof to pieces and sending shrapnel miles into the sky.

Alduin the Black, world-eater, bane of kings, was awake at last.

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Thank God it's finished. This chapter was a bitch and a half to complete, mostly because of continuous revisions and rewrites, especially with the alternating viewpoints in the last quarter of the chapter.

Hopefully the finished product is halfway acceptable. Read, review and enjoy! With any luck, the next one won't take quite so long.

Draconic translations:

Kren Gron Lein- Break, Bind, World (Draconic shout for dimensional travel)