Synchronicity

by Sev

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, Fancypants, Comedy, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Sex, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 80402

Old grudges lead to shaky alliances when the lands outside Equestria unite against a common foe

Twilight's slight miscalculation with the Elements of Harmony land her and Rarity in a telepathic funk. But when Princess Celestia goes missing, it looks like having a window into each other's minds is going to be the least of their problems. The Mane Six will find themselves everywhere from Equestria's capital, to the home of the sea ponies, to a battle on the ocean for the fate of the world - all in this long adventure with more innuendo than you can shake your plot at. (Comments are appreciated! Finally done!)

Published 2011-12-19 23:01:14 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-04 08:21:36 UTC

01. Probably Harmless

“Rarity, you promised!”

“But I reeeaaally need to get back to work, Twili-”

“But I need another unicorn to make this spell work, and you're the only one I know well enough to try it with!”

Twilight shot her friend a pleading, desperate stare. A trick she'd picked up from Rarity herself that seemed to work wonders on close friends, or anything possessing a male chromosome. Whether it was genuine sympathy or just the knowledge that her own manipulations were being employed against her, Rarity relented, sighed, and stepped outside of the dress shop.

It had been two days since they'd returned from Canterlot and life in Ponyville had returned to normal. Or, at least, what amounted to normal in Ponyville. The fact that Twilight could call a day that began with a blonde haired pony with a wandering eye crashing through her wall to deliver a letter before departing for the rest of her rounds by means of a trip down the toilet, followed by a flying cake war in the middle of Mane Street, three escaped baby carriages (one of which contained an actual baby), an averted stampede, and three communiques from the Princess about the state Twilight's Canterlot suite had been left in (and her own dismay for not being able to attend what she took to be “one hell of a Hearth's Warming party”)... ‘Normal for Ponyville’ was evidence of her own adaptation to her second year among the populous of the little town. The thought made her smile briefly as she waited for Rarity to collect whatever scarf matched her mood that day.

“Just what sort of spell is this anyway?” Rarity asked, having settled on something a shade lighter than her mane. “Nothing dangerous I trust? Not that I mind helping you with questionable magic my dear, honest, its just that I neeeed to get this order out by tomorrow...”

“No, no,” Twilight insisted, “Nothing dangerous. Well… probably nothing dangerous. Likely nothing dangerous!” she settled on that one. 'Likely' sounded good enough.

Rarity, on the other hand, seemed unenthusiastic and shot her purple friend a dubious look. Twilight tried to grin reassuringly, and fell short of succeeding. She cleared her throat and continued.

“Before we left for Canterlot,” she explained, “I was doing experiments on the scientific nature of harmony. The way I see it, there has to be something mathematically definable about this sort of thing. Magic is precise, careful, and exact. It takes study and dedication and careful crafting to accomplish. The Elements of Harmony are some of the most powerful magical objects in existence, right? So, if they're using magic to create harmony, and harmony to harness magic, then logic says that harmony itself must be quantifiable, or you wouldn't be able to use magic with it at all!” She popped a little on her hooves, a grin on her face as she concluded the delivery of her recent theory.

The idea behind it wasn't lost on Rarity, who, having pulled herself up from her hooves and founded a fashion business from scratch before she'd had so much as a cutie mark, was far from a foolish pony. But it still didn't explain why she was required. She didn't speak up, though. Twilight would get around to it; if there was anything that pony could do, it was lecture about magic.

“There's so much that could be possible if this pans out!” Twilight exclaimed, continuing as the pair of them walked toward the library. Rarity's eyes were trading between looking at Twilight's enthusiastic face and eying the numerous puddles and snow drifts on the ground, all of which were none too clean. Getting to the library without staining her fur was going to be a bigger challenge than she'd thought.

“Why in Equestria didn't I bring my boots?”

“What?”

“Nothing darling,” Rarity responded quickly, “do continue.”

Twilight did so, not missing the opportunity to talk to a captive audience. “All sorts of things cause disharmony. Broken things, damaged things, bad days, all sorts of stuff. If I can find out how to cause harmony where harmony isn't, I'll have a spell that can fix nearly anything!”

Rarity lifted an eyebrow. “It sounds wonderful, Twilight,” the pearl pony replied cautiously, “but if it were that simple, don't you think some pony would've figured it out by now?”

“Probably,” Twilight admitted, “but the Princess has been telling me to think big lately. Be more ambitious. Aim for the stars!” She struck a powerful pose as she said it, and Rarity restrained a laugh. “And the way I see it, while there are certainly better magic users out there than me, I'm the first unicorn to have the Elements of Harmony in a really, REALLY long time. Up until now, all the Elements of Harmony have been in the care of Princess Celestia. Now that we have them, we have an opportunity no pony in our lifetimes has had. But I don't want to start experiments with the Elements until I understand the magical implications of harmony better, and to do that, I need some pony like me, that I'm already harmonious with, to try a few experiments with magical resonance. A unicorn. A friendly unicorn.”

She gave Rarity that hopeful smile again, and Rarity oofed. “Alright Twilight,” she replied, still not convinced anything would come of it, but willing to assist now that she knew the context a little better. “It would be my pleasure to assist you. Just, um, can we maybe be fast about it? Because I've-”

“I know!” Twilight insisted, “We'll be fast!”

The door to the library opened on quiet hinges, a testament to Spike's diligence on the upkeep of the building. He was out assisting in general repairs to the town after his little… growth spurt. Ponyville was generally forgiving of the whole situation (it wasn't the first time a freak natural disaster had flattened the town), but his honor as a dragon would not be satisfied until he'd cleaned up every last bit of mess and put everything back as it was. In practice, that usually amounted to holding materials and running errands for ponies, but it made him happy and the town recognized his desire to help, so Twilight had cut him some slack on his studies to allow him time to continue.

Books had already been laid out along the various surfaces of the wooden room, arranged on stands and pedestals for easy reach and visibility while Twilight organized thoughts and notes and went about the various day-to-day activities that went hoof-in-hoof with being an ever-so-slightly unhinged magical pony. Today, a large space in the center of the room had been cleared to allow Twilight and Rarity room to stand facing each other, with a considerable margin cleared out around them. Rarity noticed the wide birth and swallowed. Twilight rarely cleared things out of the way unless she was worried that something she was about to try might damage the local environment.

“Ok, now stand right here, facing me,” Twilight instructed, situating Rarity in one half of the room while she paced to the other and faced her.

Rarity did as instructed and cleared her throat. “Twilight,” she ventured, “I may be a rather capable unicorn in my own right, but uh… my magic has always been focused on rather tactile things. Careful manipulations of needles, locating gems, stitching fabric, fine detail, things of that nature. This harmony stuff,” she coughed, adding quickly, “while fascinating, I assure you, is just a bit more… abstract than I'm used to.”

“You've nothing to worry about,” Twilight insisted, checking a few notes. “What we're about to do is a simple resonance activity. Nothing dangerous or explosive about it.”

“Explosive? Why did you say-”

“Nothing explosive at all!”

“But why even mention the word explosive unless-”

“Oop!” Twilight interrupted before Rarity could complete her thought, “We better get started! Don't want you to be late for your dress thingy, right?” She stood across from the other unicorn and set her stance. “You know how to thrum, right Rarity?”

The simplicity of the task forced Rarity to reflexively abandon her concern, in order to properly set her nose high and hmph at the impudence of the question.

“Of course I do,” she replied, “every unicorn filly learns that. Why?”

“Because I need you to do it,” Twilight answered.

'Thrumming' was the general term assigned to surrounding oneself in one's own magic without any particular target. While most unicorn magic was designed to effect a specific object or transform a particular target, thrumming was the exercise of dumping magical energy into the air without targeting anything. It manifested as a sort of aura around the unicorn that thrummed rhythmically, which gave it it's name.

“Thrumming is the best way to get a feel for your own magic,” Twilight explained, “and for the magic of another unicorn. If both of us do it, we can try and manipulate our magics to thrum together. Its called resonance, and the Princess told me resonating unicorns can gain fantastic insight into their own magic because it lets them sort of...” she struggled with the explanation, making combination motions with her hooves, “see their own auras through the lens of a different pony. So you can pick up on things you missed. My studies on friendship have shown me that walking in another pony's horseshoes can really help you understand them, which tells me that resonance and harmony may have more to do with each other than ponies think they do.”

“But you've resonated before, haven't you?” Rarity asked, looking a little surprised.

It took Twilight a second to realize her lengthy definition might not have been necessary, as Rarity already seemed to know how the process worked. Twilight coughed. “Um… once. In a magic class,” she replied.

Rarity nodded. “I've done it several times,” the white pony replied, not in a boasting tone, but in a cautionary one, as though warning Twilight not to waste her time. “I admit it to be a very pleasant experience, especially if its with somepony who knows what they're doing. Vibrates you right down to the bones, its quite lovely. But it’s never given me any particular insight into my magic, Twilight.” She stepped forward and gave her friend a teasing nudge. “If all you're looking for is a way to relax, we could always go to the spa. You don't need to manufacture such an elaborate story.”

Twilight shook off Rarity's jests and snorted. “It's not a story! … Alright, maybe just normal resonance won't give me the results I'm looking for. But we're not going to try just 'normal' resonance.” Her horn glowed briefly, and a drawer opened on the other side of the room. A light purple aura escorted a large book from within the drawer to a desk to Twilight's right, where the book settled and opened. Within it lay the Elements of Harmony, in a cut-out hollow. She cast Rarity a look and nodded to the book. “Go on,” she prompted.

Rarity looked a bit more concerned than she did before, but never passed up the opportunity to wear the Element of Generosity. It settled on her neck in a perfect fit and glinted in the pale light of the library. The purple-maned mare felt her body warm and shimmer with the influx of sympathetic magic keyed specifically to her personality. These artifacts were a joy to put on, but the six of them had long ago decided they should be stored away unless needed, so that no pony with a penchant for thievery would know where to look for them. When Twilight's crown settled on her head, Rarity could feel her necklace attract to it, just slightly. The Elements of Harmony intrinsically desired each other’s company, much like their guardians. Twilight returned to her position, and Rarity, with a light step indicative of worry, returned to hers.

“Nothing explosive?” she asked, to make sure.

“Probably not!” Twilight replied.

Twilight had already closed her eyes, and the soft thrum of magic could be heard emanating from within her as her aura coalesced around her body, emerging from her horn. Rarity put her concerns aside and relaxed, reaching within herself to collect her own stores of power and allow them to radiate outward from herself. Within a few seconds, both ponies were awash in their corresponding energies, eyes still closed, feeling their environment through the soft resistance the solid objects around them provided to their magic. Twilight reached out slowly with her aura, testing around for Rarity's and encountering it some ten feet in front of her. It felt pleasant and familiar, and images of her friend cycled through her mind. She could feel the vibration of Rarity's thrumming ripple through her own, and focused to adjust her pitch to match. Her own pulsing dipped as Rarity's sped up, creating a complex harmony that briefly touched on synchronization once or twice before passing each other. Twilight giggled, and could hear Rarity do the same as they hit and missed a few times, slowly feeling out the proper synchronicity as much through the pleasant muscle melting sensation as through sound. A little lower, a little faster, and there it was. Both auras meshed against each other like a single, matched waveform and rippled across the corresponding owners like a warm summer's wind.

Rarity had done this before, so she knew how it was supposed to feel. This was more. Somehow the inclusion of the Elements of Harmony had added so much more magic to this rhapsody of energy. Through gentle pushes and pulls of power she could guide Twilight into symphonies of sound and color that played through their minds collectively, fully visible despite their closed eyes. It was tremendous and exciting, like standing atop some enormous waterfall and staring over the precipice, but without the fear of falling. Wrapped as they were in their resonance, fear was the furthest thing from her mind. Twilight threw shapes and movement into the mix, and as Rarity felt each one wash over her she could swear her bones were turning to jelly. The sensation was rapturous, a perfect union of rhythmic, natural beauty and deep, primal sensation that thudded in her chest like a drum beat. Loathe to let it end, but concerned about returning to the purpose of the experiment and aware that she might be losing track of time, Twilight opened her eyes to bring the session to a slow, controlled close.

What she saw was terrifying.

Rarity opened her eyes and screamed. Both ponies were some forty feet in the air, with violent currents of purple and blue magic swirling around them with hurricane force, twisting and merging and meshing while the entire library floated in the sky, ripped in twain and separated into segments that hung in the air like small, fractured islands. Books were falling like leaves. Dozens of ponies were on the ground below, yelling frantically at the two of them, trying to get their attention, but their voices couldn't carry through the maelstrom of energy. Emergency crews were extending ladders and pegasus ponies were flying around the storm, looking for breaches, ways to get in and rescue the two apparently entranced unicorns, to no avail. To Twilight's horror, there were several such ponies lying on the ground, unconscious or injured. Presumably those who attempted to get through the swirling magic directly rather than waiting for breaches. Rainbow Dash was among them, eyes closed, limbs limp, and a panicked looking Fluttershy was wrapping a bandage around her head. Twilight took in the entire scene in a second's time before sharing a look of terror with Rarity, and opened her mouth to speak.

When the first word left her lips, the spell ended with a clap that split the storm like thunder. Dust bloomed outward from the epicenter and the sudden rush of displaced air toppled ponies below like paper dolls. The swirling cascade of energy poured back into Twilight and Rarity and sent them hurtling toward the ground. Emergency earth ponies charged forward with Applejack and Pinkie Pie at the forefront, enduring the buffeting of the dissipating storm in order to reach to falling duo before they hit the ground. Both ponies sprung skyward, intercepting the rag doll bodies of their friends and sparing them the fate of a sudden introduction to the dirt from lethal heights. By the time Twilight could get herself to her fleet, the fragments of the library had already crashed to earth around them, and the street was littered with wood and books. The currents of magic had vanished, and the sky was clearing.

“What in Equestria was all that?!” Applejack demanded. “Are you alright?”

Twilight nodded, wincing. “I am. Thank you Applejack. I… I have no idea what happened, we were just-”

“I'm not Applejack silly, I'm Pinkie Pie!”

Twilight blinked, and found the pony that had saved her was, in fact, not the one she could swear she was speaking to a moment earlier.

“That's Applejack.” Pinkie pointed over toward Rarity, who was addressing Applejack, who looked rather confused herself.

“Yes, I know you're Pinkie Pie,” Rarity said insistently, speaking directly toward Applejack, “I was asking if Rainbow was okay! I saw her lying on the floor and-”

Applejack looked toward Pinkie Pie, who shrugged. As Applejack turned her head, Twilight got the strangest sensation that Pinkie, or, at least, some pony in front of her, had done the same thing. A second look confirmed that she hadn't, and cold, shocked realization landed firmly in Twilight's brain. She looked quickly to Rarity, who had come to the same conclusion, and both ponies pointed hooves at each other in startled accusation.

“YOU'RE IN MY HEAD!”

“Our magic must have mixed when the spell broke!” Twilight yelped in surprise, still pointing. “When it all poured back into us, we got into each others heads at the same time!”

Rarity winced and waved Twilight off. “Stop yelling, Twilight! You're echoing! It sounds like a whole chorus of nerds are playing board games in my brain!”

Twilight could hear the feedback of her own voice. It wasn't like a sound so much as a feeling. She would say a thing, Rarity would hear it, and then Twilight would hear Rarity's resulting thoughts. Which in turn let Rarity hear Twilight's thoughts about Rarity's thoughts, which then let Twilight hear Rarity's thoughts about Twilight's thoughts regarding Rarity's tho-

“Stop thinking about thinking!” Rarity ordered as Twilight worked it out. The purple pony yelped and shook her head to clear it.

“Sorry, sorry, hang on, back up, put some distance between us.” Both ponies paced rapidly backward, clearing room between them. Upon passing the ten foot line, the same distance they'd been when the resonance began, the psychic echo decreased dramatically.

“How's that?” Twilight asked.

“Better,” Rarity replied, “I can still hear you. Sort of. In a weird, emotional sort of way. But its not feeding back and forth as badly as it was.”

Twilight nodded, and turned toward the rubble. “I'm going to check on Rainbow,” she said.

Rarity blinked, and Twilight felt the white pony's concern tremble up in her own chest through the link. “But what about us!?”

“Its going to have to wait!” Twilight replied, “We aren't hurt. Something definitely went… crazy… but I can't find out what it is until I get my notes in order, and I can't do that until we make sure everypony is okay. Spike! SPIIIIKE!”

Twilight's yelling was cut off as she felt a sudden swell of warm relief and affection from Rarity's side of the link. Internally, Twilight interpreted it as the emotion one would feel when discovering a loved one had survived an accident, and was more than a little surprised when she turned toward Rarity and saw Spike hugging her leg. Rarity was smiling down at him, and looked up when she felt Twilight's own sensation of intrigued shock. The look Rarity shot her spoke in rather unmistakable words that Spike was not to know about any feelings Rarity may have accidentally let Twilight in on.

“Twilight!” Spike rushed to her side once he'd finished making sure Rarity was unharmed, and Twilight cleared her throat and her head. “What happened to you two?” he asked, concern registering on his face. Twilight answered his question with a command.

“I need you to send a letter to the princess,” Twilight said, resuming her walk toward where she'd seen Rainbow. Even from here she could see the blue pegasus pulling herself to her feet. Injured maybe, but not terribly so.

Rarity felt Twilight's relief and the recognition of the emotions that identified that target as Rainbow. Trying to understand the link in terms of language was difficult, but she was already finding that if she just used Twilight's mind as a sort of interpreter for Twilight's feelings, she could understand what she was experiencing easier. It was, however, more than a little distracting.

“Tell her I was trying to resonate with Rarity and-”

“Wow...” Spike replied, blinking, “Um...did you take pictures?”

Twilight made a face of confusion before blinking and swatting the dragon with her tail. “RESONATE, Spike, RESONATE”.

“Oh. Right.”

Twilight sighed in aggravation and continued, “I was resonating with Rarity and we were both using the Elements of Harmony as tools to try and get a better result-”

“Are you suuuuuure you don't mean-”

“WRITE THE LETTER, SPIKE.”

Spike frantically buried himself in his parchment and quill as Twilight continued.

“Tell her we did that, then tell her what happened here, and tell her...” Twilight made a face, as though not sure how much she should be saying just yet, “tell her Rarity and I seem to be able to sort of… read each other’s minds a little now. We could use some help.”

Spike looked amazed, “Really? You can actually-”

“Yes. And we're not going to talk about it now.” Twilight insisted. “Send the letter and help collect my books. I'm going to need as much information as I can get if I'm going to have any hope of fixing this.”

Twilight was thankful for her own emotional self-defense mechanism of substituting determination for worry or fear. The last thing she wanted Rarity to feel was any emotion of defeatism on the part of herself. She could tell the other pony was worried, and more than a little lost, having not spent much time in the realm of magical catastrophes. But Rarity was nothing if not strong willed, and her desire to be proactive mixed well with Twilight's own urge to fix any problem that crossed her path. In light of the accidental destruction of the town library, Twilight found herself rather thankful for the internal emotional support.

“Rainbow!” Twilight arrived at her friend's side, now bandaged up by Fluttershy's ministrations. She groaned a bit in response.

Fluttershy looked up at Twilight reassuringly. “She'll be alright,” the pastel pony insisted, “She's hit her head loooots harder than that before. Are you alright?”

“Mostly,” Twilight responded, looking around at the mess. “The Mayor is going to be… disgruntled.”

“And ticked off.” Rainbow chimed in, looking up. She'd apparently cleared her head enough to stand again.

Twilight gave her a hug and looked at her apologetically. “Thank you for trying to help us,” she said, “Rarity thanks you too.”

“She does?” Rainbow replied with a blink, “But she's way over there.”

Twilight erped and opened her mouth to explain when Spike tugged on her tail.

“I sent that letter,” he said, “but there's one thing I don't get.”

“What?”

“You said you two were using the Elements, right?” Spike asked, and Twilight responded with a nod. Spike produced the box containing them. Rainbow's, Fluttershy's, Applejack's, and Pinkie Pie's were all there, but the two remaining spots were vacant. “Then where did they end up?”

Twilight looked upward to her uncrowned head and fear gripped her, while a similar feeling effected Rarity, who, prompted by Twilight's emotions, had looked at her chest and discovered the same absence.

“... Uh oh.”

02. Just Follow Your Foals

“Its not there, Twilight,” Spike said with a slow shake of his head as he walked into Rarity's living room, “plain and simple.”

The dragon had spent the better part of the evening scouring the wreckage of the library for the Elements of Magic and Generosity, apparently to no avail. Twilight sighed in defeat, turning back to the scroll she was cradling in her arms. Through the link, she felt Rarity's spirits likewise droop, which only helped make Twilight feel worse. Both ponies shot each other a “cut that out” sort of glance from across the room, and tried to divert their attention to their various activities. Like it or not, psychic link or not, Rarity still had an order to fill. Both ponies were quickly realizing that one pony's mood could affect the other, leading straight down a slippery slope toward rather heated feelings. Twilight had grabbed a few essential reference guides and retreated with Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Pinkie to Rarity's house while Spike and Fluttershy combed the debris for the missing Elements. Fluttershy was providing an eye in the sky where one was needed, but Twilight was confident in Spike's ability to be thorough. “If you need something shiny and jewel-encrusted found,” she'd said, “have a dragon look for it.”

“So what does that mean?” Rainbow asked, pacing around the room, “they can't have just vanished, could they?” she looked with alarm at Applejack. “You don't think they broke, do you?”

Applejack blinked and shook her head. “Nah, couldn't happen. Right?” She looked over to Twilight, her expression now matching Rainbow's. “Can they break?”

“I don't think so.” Twilight responded, still reading the collection of scrolls in front of her. “I don't even think they can be lost. At least not for very long. Nightmare Moon thought she'd shattered them, but we were able to bring them back whole and complete again,” she looked up, “and Discord was defeated by them once. He had the opportunity to destroy them when he came back, but he hid them instead, and not very far away. When the Elements were shattered, we felt it, right?”

Pinkie Pie's head erupted from a pile of fabric. “RIGHT!” she exclaimed. “It felt like a pinchy in my chest! But when they were revived it went away!”

Twilight nodded. “The Elements are as much us as they are themselves. I think when they're missing or damaged or in any real danger, we notice. That's why Discord couldn't risk being too drastic with them. It's entirely possible that should the elements be destroyed, they just come right back to their owners, which was the last thing he wanted.”

Twilight shuffled her small assortment of literature, grabbing the Elements of Harmony reference guide.

“What I've read in here suggests much the same thing. The Elements are eternal. Whatever happened to Magic and Generosity, it wasn't catastrophic, and they're probably not too far away.”

“But I searched the entire wreck, Twilight!” Spike insisted, just as he came through the front door. “Honest, they're not there!”

“I believe you, Spike,” the purple unicorn replied, and put a reassuring hoof on her smaller protege. “Somehow they must have gotten scattered when the magic dissipated. But they can't be far!”

Fluttershy had arrived behind Spike, and spoke up, or rather, did what amounted to Fluttershy speaking up. “Um… just how far is… far?” she asked meekly.

Twilight pondered. “I Imagine Discord would have hidden them as far away from us as he could without the magic alerting us, so he could buy himself extra time while we went back and forth. We were in the palace maze while the Elements were here in Ponyville, so I guess they could be anywhere between...” she sighed, slumping in her chair, “here and Canterlot.”

“Oh you're kiiiiidding,” Rainbow groaned. “Do you have any idea how much ground that is?!”

Applejack shot the pegasus a glare. “What are you worried about?” she asked. “Ain't you the one always braggin’ about racing back and forth to Canterlot faster than any pony ever?”

Rainbow met her stare with indignation. “That's a straight line, treehugger,” she countered. “You've never had to do a search and rescue before. You can't just go back and forth, you have to cover everything. In every direction! It takes every pegasus on the weather team just to check the local landscape for fillies when they go missing, let alone a few pieces of jewelry between here and Canterlot.”

Rarity had taken a moment to turn from her work and listen, and chose then to chime in. “Do you think it can be done at all?” she asked hopefully, and Rainbow bit her lip.

“Honestly? No. Not the way we normally do it. We just plain don't have enough ponies. Especially with no idea where to start looking. It’s one thing with lost fillies, ‘cause they want to be found. They move out into open areas and leave trails and tracks and stuff. But a crown? A necklace? It could be anywhere. In a ditch, up a tree, stuck under a bush. That magic tornado thingy was moving reeeeally fast. If it chucked them somewhere...” she shrugged helplessly, “Without some sort of magic finding device or something, we're really just flying around and hoping it catches the light.”

Twilight's spirits drooped, and she sank back into Rarity's padded cushions. Rainbow was right. Without something that could track them, finding the missing Elements would be a foal's errand.

Track… them...

“The other Elements!” Twilight exclaimed as she sat bolt upright. Her sudden movement caused Pinkie Pie to fall out of the makeshift fabric fort she'd constructed and hit the ground with a thud. Rarity, under normal circumstances, would have scolded her, but she was currently enthused with the emotions of revelation Twilight was feeling.

“What about them, sugercube?” Applejack asked, stepping forward to listen.

“The Elements attract each other!” Twilight explained, “Rarity and I noticed it earlier today. Normally I wouldn't think it was strong enough to help, but that resonance thing we did isn't supposed to be anywhere near as dangerous as it turned out to be. I'll bet that if we focus on using the Elements to find each other, they'll respond to our desire the same way they did earlier today!”

“They responded to our desire by destroying your house, Twilight.” Rarity said flatly.

“Does anypony else think all this stuff about resonating together and responding to desires is sounding juuuuusssst a little...” Rainbow ventured, before every other pony in the room shot her a disparaging look. “Right, sorry,” she finished meekly.

Spike leaned over with a hand to his mouth and whispered, “Relax, sister. I said the saaaame thing.”

“I know, I know, but think about what we were doing,” Twilight continued, “We were thrumming with them, it’s-” she stopped to address Applejack's look, which now rather mirrored Rainbow's upon hearing the word “thrumming”, and sighed with ever increasing exasperation. “IT’S A MAGICAL EXERCISE. It’s untargeted magical conjuring. I think the lack of a target was what caused all the trouble. Every time we've used the Elements, its been as a focus for our attack against some sort of enemy. Without anything to focus on, the power just… bloomed out of control!”

“It didn't feel very out of control while it was happening,” Rarity mentioned, rather hoping it could be explained.

Twilight found she didn't have an explanation to provide, and brooded in her seat. “I still think it will work. I just wish the Princess would write back to me already. She's not usually this late!” Twilight squirmed, and caught the slightest hint of enamored amusement filtering in from Rarity. She looked up at the other unicorn, who promptly covered her mouth with a hoof and restrained her laughter.

“Sorry, sorry Twilight, it’s just… you know how we did this to begin with so you might be able to look at your magic from the outside?”

“Yeah?” Twilight replied cautiously.

“Well I am,” said Rarity, “and I don't think you've ever realized just how… dramatic… you can be.”

Twilight blinked, and raised a hoof in disbelief. “YOU'RE calling ME dramatic?!”.

“Of course,” said Rarity matter-of-factually, “I'm an authority on drama.”

“She does have a point there,” Applejack muttered, but faced Rarity as she did so. “Nonetheless, you do seem to be takin’ this rather well, for somepony that spends most of her time obsessin’ over every little thing. I'd think havin’ Twilight cluttering up yer head would drive you nuts.”

“I,” Rarity declared, “am an ar-teest. I am awash with creativity. Instilled with inspiration. Brimming with bounteous brilliance!” she flourished her tail, then sighed. “In short,” she concluded, “I'm rather used to listening to random voices in my head. Twilight will figure out a way to fix us. She always does. In the meantime,” Rarity walked over to one of her many ponyquins, “I shall treat the situation as an opportunity! Twilight is a dear friend, I'm sure with her mentality helping me, I'll create some amazing designs!”

“Like… this… amazing design?” Fluttershy asked, pointing to a piece of paper on Rarity's desk. Rarity glanced over and nodded.

“Yes! I designed that this afternoon, with my link to Twilight serving as a muse. See? Productivity abounds!”

Fluttershy had bitten her lip, and Applejack had walked over to inspect it. The earth pony cocked her head sideways one way, than the next, and finally looked to Rarity.

“That,” she said flatly, “is awful.”

Rarity blinked. “Wha? Oh come on Applejack, what do you know about fashi-BY CELESTIA!” She'd approached the desk for a second time, and inspected the drawing herself, “THAT'S AWFUL!”

“Eeyup.”

“What was I thinking!?” Rarity seemed unwilling to touch the drawing, as though contact with it might taint her somehow. “Twilight has no fashion sense at all! If this is what I design with her floating around in my head I'll be ruined in under a week!”

“Really? Come on, it's not bad… I like it,” Twilight said with a pout, looking at the drawing. It was a little odd to speak in one's own defense based on something somepony else had done, but she felt the need to nonetheless.

“Twilight,” Rarity insisted, pointing her hoof at the paper, “this is a level of hideous that is only curable with flame. You simply MUST find a way to fix us or-” her speech was cut short by the emotional echo in her head that suddenly radiated between her and Twilight. When the purple unicorn had stepped up to see the picture, she'd crossed into the closer range of the link. Rarity's exasperation and panic rippled through Twilight, back into Rarity, and back again to Twilight in a mounting loop of feedback that drove both their heart rate's through the roof and brought them to their knees.

“Wooooaaah nelly,” Applejack said, and took hold of Twilight's tail in her mouth to yank her back beyond the ten foot line. Once separated, both ponies could catch their breaths as the emotional cascade subsided. The feeling itself had been awful, a mounting rush of never ending anxiety that set Twilight's teeth on edge. But the sheer intensity of the emotional feedback had been beyond any single feeling either pony had ever felt (at least, in regards to bad dress designs, certainly). It left both of them panting, riding the tail end of an adrenaline rush that made both unicorns break into a case of the giggles.

“Th… that.. that right there is a pretty good reason for getting this fixed all on its own,” Twilight stammered when her head had cleared enough to allow it. “It’s going to be awfully hard to do anything together if Rarity and I have to keep a ten foot minimum safe distance from each other.” She felt a flutter of agreement from within the link, Rarity chiming in likewise.

“So we should go with the Elements plan then?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Ahhh, ah ah,” Rarity cautioned, “not in here we're not. And not in Ponyville. I'm not losing my home to another freak accident. We shall travel outside and attempt it someplace clear and open.”

“The hills outside Ponyville go on for a while,” Rainbow suggested. “Unless this screw up ends up even bigger than the last one, we should be pretty safe out there.”

Twilight took exception to the term 'screw up', but held her tongue. From within, she could feel Rarity pass her a genuinely sympathetic feeling, and she felt her mood brighten. It was such a simple thing, but Twilight realized that, for the first time, someone could say 'I know how you feel' and actually know how she felt. There was something rather wonderful about that.

Of course, it had also occurred to Twilight that if they couldn't get this fixed, she was going to know how a LOT of things felt that she was likely better off not knowing at all. There were times when every pony wanted a little privacy, and those times were going to prove more than a little awkward with what amounted to a psychic head floating over her shoulder. The magically inclined mare said a silent thank you to the powers that be that she didn't currently need to go to the bathroom.

“Still nothing?” Twilight asked Spike.
.

The small dragon shook his head. “I sent the second letter three hours ago,” he replied. “She hasn't responded to either. I mean, she might be busy and all, but this is unusual for her, Twilight.” He rubbed his hands together. “I'm worried.”

Twilight draped her tail over Spike to comfort him as she and the others made their way out of Ponyville and into the hills nearby, where Rainbow did a lot of her time trials. It was open country out here, with nothing to stop the speedy pegasus from cutting loose and going full-tilt while she practiced. With the sun now set, the hills shined silver with moonlight and the breeze made the tall grass play in waves. Twilight had always treasured the view; she could see it from her bedroom window. Could, anyway, back when she'd had a bedroom. Regret twinged inside her. She'd never realized just how much she'd loved that tree. She stuffed the feeling down before Rarity could pick up on it, but was unsuccessful. Rarity, however, had noticed not only the regret, but the attempt to hide it, and did her best to avoid any obvious reactions. If Twilight was endeavoring to spare her friend from enduring her guilt, Rarity would at least pretend the attempt was working.

“This is as good a spot as any,” Rainbow declared as they arrived on a hilltop.

Applejack had been carrying the Elements in a saddlebag and opened it to allow each pony access to retrieve and don their corresponding object. The six then spread out far enough to allow Twilight and Rarity to stay outside their ten foot safe zone while still forming a circle, each pony looking across at another.

“So… what do we do?” Fluttershy asked, looking to Twilight for guidance. “We normally have the Element of Magic to coordinate everything.”

“We'll just have to do without,” Applejack said, giving Twilight a reassuring smile when the purple pony didn't provide an immediate answer. “Come on, y'all,” she continued, “just focus. These are our Elements, all we need to do is feel out where the other two are. Close your eyes and feel.”

All six ponies did as instructed, clearing their minds as best they could and looking to the Elements on their chests to guide them. Twilight could feel the gravity of power around her, pulling her inward as the other pony's necklaces began to drift forward, floating just off their bodies. Each individual stepped slowly toward their Elements when the gentle tug on their necks told them to do so. Rarity and Twilight's emotions began to intermingle excitedly. It was working! The Elements were calling to them. Excitement at a potential victory rushed through Rarity's body and leapt to Twilight's where it mingled and fed off her own, driving both ponies into a steadily increasing state of quivering anticipation that gradually cycled through various states of emotional being, becoming mutated and transformed as it surpassed states that could no longer contain its level.

What began as something akin to awaiting a birthday gift or receiving a surprise party had escalated into the tease of a lovers touch and upward still to the trembling, ragged edge of a withheld orgasm screaming desperately to be allowed. It was Twilight's innate recognition of something wrong that saved her from completely abandoning the task at hand and following the feeling to its conclusion when she realized that the only reason she should be feeling this so intensely is if she and Rarity had gotten too close to each other.

Her eyes opened, and locked on the light blues of the other unicorn standing not two inches away. Both ponies were panting deeply, with soft currents of steam rising off their bodies in the cool night air. They'd walked toward each other, unintentionally, and they were not alone. The other four ponies were right there with them, though in a considerably more composed state. They seemed unaware of the hormonal cascade that had just ravaged both unicorns. They had, however, come to a rather startling conclusion.

“The Elements aren't missing,” Pinkie Pie said suddenly, stepping back and pointing at the pair of them. “The Elements are YOU!”

Twilight and Rarity blinked, looking back behind themselves. Their cutie marks were glowing, matching hue and brightness with the stones around each other pony's necks.

“She’s right.” Twilight said, only barely believing it herself. “We were all pulled forward toward each other. Somehow, when the energy dissipated, the stones, and the Elements, were pulled IN to us!”

By now, Rarity had paced backward far enough to clear her from the feedback loop, but the effects still had her brain a little addled. She felt annoyed at having been cheated out of a very pleasant experience by bad timing. Worse still she felt annoyed at her annoyance, which was entirely uncalled for. This time, it was Twilight's turn to pass her friend a sympathetic feeling. Rarity had to force herself not to make a spiteful retort. A few too many feelings had been passed back and forth today. That, or not enough.

“But… what does that mean?” Rainbow asked. “If YOU are the Element, how do you use it to fix this thing with you and Rarity?”

Twilight bit her lip, trying to defog her thinking. “I… I don't know.”

The gravity of the admission was muted by a crack in the sky and a sudden rush of air and streaming moonlight. A black shape with a shimmering, night sky mane plummeted at frightening speed from a teleport tunnel in the sky, landing with strength and authority on the grass. When the tunnel flickered, the light caught the sleek lines and powerful shape of a creature that, for a thousand years, had been used by parents as a means to frighten foals into compliance under threat of death by devouring. Tonight, however, the only thing Twilight felt was relief. Help was here.

“TWILIGHT SPARKLE,” came a voice that could only belong to the Mistress of the Moon herself.

“Princess Luna! Oh are we glad to see you-”

“THEE AND THINE SHALL ACCOMPANY ME TO CANTERLOT ON A MISSION OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE,” Luna continued, drowning Twilight out. Her eyes were hard, and her stance was firm. Something was wrong, Twilight could see it in the way Luna's mane flickered. The unicorn stepped forward.

“Luna,” she asked softly, using her tone and demeanor to remind the princess that they had established a casual friendship. Luna rarely needed reminding. To resort back to the royal Canterlot voice meant something had unnerved her badly. “What's wrong?”

Luna's lip quivered, and Twilight could see a shimmer of liquid in her eyes. “It’s Celestia, Twilight...” Luna said softly. “Something has taken my sister.”

03. Palace Renovations

Twilight could not recall a time where the spires and turrets of Canterlot had failed to take her breath away. She was no stranger to them, having studied and lived there for years before her transition to Ponyville, but still, every morning, she would wake up, gaze outside at the sunrise peaking atop the glimmering figureheads and alicorn motifs and bask in a simple moment of unadulterated awe.

Before panicking over some upcoming test and burying her nose in a book for the rest of the day.

Suffice it to say, Twilight considered herself a fan of the city, as did most of Canterlot's residents and visitors. It struck a special chord in her heart, and when she arrived, every time she arrived, there was an image in her mind she expected it to fit. As she arrived via Luna's teleport tunnel, for the first time, Canterlot failed to fit that image.

“By all things good and green...” Applejack breathed, and Twilight could hear the horror in her voice.

They had arrived at the foot of the palace proper, and the gates had been leveled. Utterly destroyed. Beautiful filigree inlays had been devastated by some unknown force, and the marble blocks in which they had been crafted now lay about cracked and fractured. The inner palace doors, Twilight noticed as she raced past them toward the great hall, had been blown outward off their hinges and now lay in splintered fragments on the forward approach. Twilight broke from gallop and paused, looking around briefly.

“What are you waiting for, Twilight!?” Rainbow yelled as she shot past toward the palace interior. Luna had been leading the way, and paused at the fractured entrance to the Great Hall to look back at Twilight. Twilight gazed about at the shattered door, and the similarly devastated glass fragments strewn about the lawn. Something about it felt…off.

“S-Sorry! Coming!” she replied, giving the exterior mess one last cursory glance before setting off toward the palace interior.

“Oh maaaaan,” Pinkie Pie breathed, looking around, “and I thought WE messed this place up. This was one craaaaazy party.”

“I don't think anyone was celebrating anything here, Pinkie...” Rarity said, her voice soft, as though frightened to awaken whatever had caused all the damage.

The once spotless Great Hall of Canterlot now laid in ruin. Chunks of the overhead architecture were missing, having collapsed when the mighty beams that arched overhead to support them were destroyed. Twilight had seen ponies working on those beams before. They were centuries old, and twice as wide as she was. Whatever had destroyed them possessed truly horrific strength. Scorch marks littered the floor and splashed violently across the walls, and in the places where the fighting had been fiercest the solid marble blocks that made up the walls had erupted outward from the force of whatever had impacted them. Banners, hoof stitched and kept clean and beautiful for hundreds of years, lay strewn about the floor in tatters, and the famous carpet that led to Princess Celestia's position atop the stairs was torn and flung aside. It was, however, what was missing that made Twilight's heart ache the most, and she felt likewise from her link with Rarity, who was looking the same direction. The Princess was absent. Luna stood two steps below the top of the stairway where Celestia had ruled for eons, and stared at the empty spot on the floor. The others joined her, and for a quiet moment, the seven of them stood with eyes fixed on what amounted to the royal throne, as though willing its occupant to simply return to it, and dreading what could have removed her.

It was Fluttershy, curiously enough, that spoke up first. She looked over at Twilight and nodded toward the exterior portcullis. “You n-n-noticed it, right Twilight?” she stammered, finding her voice amongst her worry. “All the debris is outside the walls.”

“What does that mean?” Rarity asked, failing to notice the significance. “Somepony swept up the mess?”

“It means it wasn't a siege,” Luna replied flatly, looking around. “Were it an attack from beyond the palace battlements, the debris would lie within the walls.”

“Whoever attacked the palace, and the princess,” Twilight said, concluding Luna's thoughts, “did it from inside the palace. The fight was in here. All the damage on the walls, its all from something inside, firing outward.”

“Celestia.” Luna replied, answered the unasked question of the origin of the damage.

“The princess?” Rainbow asked, her voice pitched in disbelief, “Really? All… this?” Luna shot her a scowl. “I mean, I know she's big and all,” Rainbow continued, “but… can she really be this violent? I mean she's the princess.”

“Princess Celestia and I fought wars against Discord and his minions for decades,” the Moon Princess replied firmly. “I've watched her bring chaos to order with naught but righteous fury and force of will. I've stood beside her while opposing Generals kissed her hooves and offered her their fealty and servitude in return for mercy because she delivered unto them a reckoning,” Luna snarled the word, “the likes of which you would not believe. My sister would not have fallen without a fight.”

Twilight spoke up to spare Rainbow the harsh rebuttal. “Which means,” she said, “that Rarity was actually right. Somepony did sweep up. No bodies. No wreckage, no equipment, nothing. If Celestia tried this hard, I really don't think she'd have missed with every shot.”

“Where are the guards?” Applejack asked, looking around the top of the elevated platform.

The rear wall that lead further into the palace's official chambers was in similarly poor condition. Directly behind Celestia's seated position was a large hole in the wall, as though caused by some sort of targeted blow. Twilight hmmm'd, and stepped into the spot Celestia would be standing during a normal day.

“The Princess keeps a minimal complement of guards within the palace walls,” Luna said, and a dark look graced her face. “We have had… discussions… on that point in the past, but she has insisted what she sacrifices in security she makes up for in public opinion by making the palace feel less like a fortress.” Luna's scowl faded to saddened resignation. “Sometimes being able to say 'I told you so' isn't worth near as much as the cost.”

“They didn't… survive?” Applejack asked, looking back at Luna.

Twilight was listening, but her attention was focused elsewhere. The blast marks, the holes, the angles, they all originated from right there, on top of the stairs. Celestia had fought the entire battle from right there. That meant it was either very fast, and they'd appeared directly in front of her… or she'd moved on to somewhere else.

Luna shook her head. “No witnesses,” she replied. “No pony at all. They were either taken along with the princess, or removed earlier by me, when I arrived. Ponies outside reported a lot of flashing lights, horrible noises, explosions, everything you'd expect them to pay attention to. By the time additional guards arrived, well...” she motioned with her hoof to the room, “thou art seeing what they saw.”

“It keeps going back here!” Pinkie Pie yelled cheerfully from behind the rubble of the rear wall. She'd gone through the large hole to investigate.

Twilight hmmm'd again, and trotted over to it. “Escape route,” she reported. “It’s right behind where the princess was sitting. I'll bet when she realized she was outnumbered, she blew out this wall and tried to escape through the palace itself.” She turned back and looked at Luna. “Do you know where she might have gone to? Is there a secret tunnel or something?”

Luna shook her head, more to clear it than to deny Twilight. “When last I lived in the palace,” she explained, “it was a very different structure. Much has changed in it in a thousand years, Twilight Sparkle. But in the original design, there was an aqueduct that went under the bottom of it, leading to the waterfall. It’s the only escape route I know about.”

Twilight nodded. “Then that's where we're headed. It’s as good a direction as any!”

She disappeared behind the ruined marble and into the damaged hallways of the palace interior. The others swiftly followed her, with Luna bringing up the rear with Rarity. She cocked an eyebrow at the white mare.

“Does everypony… always follow her thusly?” Luna asked quietly.

“She has a… commanding presence,” Rarity explained as she walked, curiously exploring the feelings she was pulling from Twilight via their link. “In a somewhat neurotic sort of way. Good in a crisis, that's Twilight.”

“So I've noticed,” Luna replied.

“I think she might be enjoying this a bit more than she thinks she does,” Rarity commented as she picked her way around the fractured rock and looked around the hallway. “Ohhhh dear, what a miserable waste of such beautiful artwork… Oh, right, Twilight. We've kinda got a bit of a… thiiing… right now… where we can sort of read each others feelings and she's rather… enthused with the love of the chase, as it were.” Rarity made a face. “Maybe more than she should be, considering the circumstances, but I think that's just… Twilight.”

“You can read her feelings?” Luna asked, lifting a brow.

“There was a bit of a thrumming accident, you see...” Rarity replied.

“You were resonating with her?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize ponies go blind doing that,” Luna commented with a wink, and Rarity sighed.

“I found her room,” Twilight called back down the hallway. The wall had been destroyed, exposing it to the hall, but the interior appeared largely untouched. Twilight felt a pang of guilt that made Rarity wince sympathetically when she noticed the letters she had sent the princess lying unopened on the rug near the fireplace. While Twilight had been sending her pleas for help about bumping a few ponies on the head and getting her feelings mixed up with Rarity, Celestia had been fighting for her life.

“This is her room?” Fluttershy asked, nervously stepping inside. “Should we leave it alone?”

“They left it alone,” Luna said, eying the soft fabrics and plush rug and running her hoof over the princess' bed subconsciously, as though recalling her lying in it. “That tells us a few things. Celestia was definitely attempting to escape, not to protect something, because she bypassed her own room entirely, and whatever was chasing her did likewise, which means it wanted her, and not anything she had.”

“...it?” Fluttershy asked as her legs trembled.

“I know of very few forces that can fit in a hallway and make my sister run from them that can be described as anything other than 'it.'” Luna replied.

“It’s too bad she didn't lead it in here,” Pinkie Pie said as she emerged from behind a doorway toward the back of the bedroom, humphing as though an opportunity had been missed. “She could've locked it up in the dungeon!”

“Pinkie,” Applejack sighed in annoyance, “we're in her bedroom. There's no dungeon. I don’t even think Canterlot HAS a dungeon.”

“Sure it does!” Pinkie insisted while she pointed at the door. “Look!”

Applejack grunted and pulled the door slightly open to peek inside. Her head withdrew a moment later with a truly baffled look on its face.

“Er… why does the princess have a dungeon in her bedroom?”

Twilight blinked and paused to look behind her, but was nudged forward by Luna, who kept walking down the hall.

“It’s for parties,” the moon pony replied. “Just… make sure no pony is stuck in there and leave it alone.”

“Parties?” Pinkie asked with incredulity in her voice, “In a dungeon?”

“There are many different kinds of parties, Pinkie,” Luna replied, and proceeded to follow the trail of debris down the stairway to the lower levels.

Twilight felt a thrill from Rarity at that particular comment and shot her white furred friend a sly glance that forced both of them to giggle despite the mood. The reprieve was temporary though. Twilight was soon at Luna's hooves, trailing her into the darker parts of the palace interior with the other ponies behind her. Excluding Rainbow Dash, who was unable to move, blink, close her mouth or do much more than stare and make soft whimpering noises for a solid minute after the others had left the room with the wooden door still ajar. It took around that long for her now upright wings to descend far enough to fit through the door frame.

The deeper down the stairway they traveled, the wetter the environment became. Twilight had never been down here before, but from the look on Luna's face, it generally wasn't supposed to be quite so damp. The walls here were bedrock, the solid mountain structure that held the palace aloft above, and while they weren't polished clean and shined like the palace proper, they still had sconces and lighting to allow access. Twilight could hear the water from the aqueduct splashing and running somewhere in the distance, continuing its inexorable path toward the mighty waterfall on the mountain's edge.

“No moss,” Applejack said as she ran a hoof along a wall. “Whole place is drippin’ wet from top to bottom, but there's no mold or moss or nothin’.” She glanced back to Fluttershy behind her. “Means it’s not been wet for very long.”

“The aqueduct was never intended to be accessible by anypony that couldn't fly,” Luna said as she rounded the last bend. “Even after heavy rainfall, the top of the water is a few feet below the platform. It might splash up and get the platform wet, but not up here, not this far away and from around so many corners.”

They emerged to the roaring of the waterway and spread out over the damp surface of the maintenance walkway. The aqueduct itself was enormous, serving as a final delta from the various deep canals that laced the streets of Canterlot. From the concentration of water around the entrance compared to the relatively dry remains of the pathway, a picture was beginning to pull together of what had actually transpired.

“Something came out of the water,” Rainbow, who had caught up, declared. “That must be how it got inside!”

“I'm not so sure about that,” Twilight cautioned. “Something did come up from the water, but I don't see how it could have gotten all the way upstairs, through all the palace staff, out from behind the princess and ambushed her in her throne room. From in front of her, no less. Most of the damage was in there, that's where the fight was.”

“It didn't come out of the water to chase her,” Applejack said as she paced the walkway to get a better view of the angles, “it came to collect her!” She shot upright and turned to face the others. “It’s like when you're herdin’ cattle. First you need a place to put them, so you set up a corral to send them into where they can't get out, get it? Then you get behind them, spook them good, and herd them into the corral.”

“Something appeared in the great hall,” Luna muttered, thinking it over. “Something powerful, strong enough that Celestia had to fall back and resort to an escape to find reinforcements. She made a fighting retreat all the way to here, and...”

All seven ponies collectively eyed the waterway. Fluttershy reflexively took a few wary steps backward.

“At least we know she's safe,” Pinkie Pie said finally, breaking the silence. The others cast her a dubious look.

“In what way do we possibly know she's safe?” Luna asked, appearing almost offended by the apparently baseless assumption.

“Well duuuuh, silly. There's no body! We know its not a monster that did it, cause it was more than one thing and it was too well planned, right? Lots of pieces working together. It wasn't an assassination, ‘cause those always have reasons, ya know? Some kinda message or something. This was a PONYNAPPING!” she blinked, “and by that I mean the taking of a pony, not what Rainbow does all day. Soooooomepony clearly went through a lot of trouble to capture the princess and steal her off somewhere, aaand remove all the evidence. If all they wanted to do was hurt her, they'd do it right here! It’s plenty private.”

Luna blinked briefly, and looked at Twilight, who shrugged. “She's kinda brilliant, sometimes,” was all the purple pony could offer for explanation.

Pinkie was right, this certainly looked like a situation where Celestia was wanted alive.

“Well, we know she's in the water,” Twilight declared, listing what she took to be 'the facts.’ “Or was. And whatever grabbed her came out of it, so it wasn't flying. The water only goes two ways: back out toward Canterlot… or off the waterfall.” She looked at Luna, who nodded and turned back for the stairway.

“Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash,” Luna declared, “with me. We're going to assemble the remaining guard, collect the Wonderbolts and begin scouring the rivers. Twilight Sparkle, I leave your earthbound friends with you. The palace has already been searched, but if the princess was to leave a hidden clue, I know it would be with the intention of you finding it. I will dispatch assistance to you as quickly as I can.”

Twilight nodded, and gave her departing friends a hug for luck before they disappeared with Luna up the stairs. Fluttershy tripped three times from her own trembling before she was so much as out of eyeshot, and Twilight winced.

“I hope she'll be alright...” Rarity said, sharing her concern.

“Rainbow will look after her,” Applejack assured them. “She always has, or so they tell me. Bigger question is, what are WE going to do?” She looked over to Twilight for guidance, “You're the princess' student, sugarcube. You're the only one who knows what to look for.”

“That,” Rarity added, “and its going to be very difficult for us to work in close quarters if Twilight and I have to stay a whole room's width away from each other.”

Twilight had been doing her best to ignore the link. With both of their minds on the task at hand, Rarity and Twilight both had more or less identical reactions to their situations, at least on an emotional level, so it had been marginally easier. But now that the immediate investigation was over, Rarity's nature was weaving its way into her thoughts and distracting her. She shook her head and grunted.

“It would almost be easier if I could actually hear what you were thinking, instead of just the emotions,” Twilight muttered. “At least then we could, I dunno, discuss the situation or ignore each other or something. But it’s hard to listen to your gut when you're busy ignoring someone else's.”

“Let’s try putting some distance between us,” Rarity suggested. Applejack gave her a questioning stare, and Rarity shrugged. “Believe me, Applejack, I know what happens to mares that 'split up' in dangerous situations, but Twilight is quite right. If she’s going to spot any subtle clue the princess left behind, my feelings aren't going to be of any positive value.” She turned her nose up proudly and put her foot down. “Pinkie and I shall go on together! Applejack can defend Twilight if anything should go wrong.”

Applejack blinked, and raised her eyebrow. “Rarity, I'm the first to toot my own horn when it comes to tillin’ the land or applebuckin’, but Twilight Sparkle lifted an Ursa Major-”

“Minor,” Twilight muttered meekly.

“Shuttup Twi... An Ursa Minor up by its butt and floated it halfway across the Everfree Forest to its hole in the ground. If there's anypony here that needs a little extra 'protecting', its you. Come on.”

Rarity opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she detected a hint of relief from her link with Twilight. She couldn't tell if it was due to Twilight's desire to provide Rarity with additional protection, or simply because she wanted the privacy to think clearer, but it was clear she preferred this particular distribution. Reluctantly, Rarity closed her mouth and relented.

"Pinkie!" Applejack called back.

Pinkie Pie had been eying her reflection in the water for a while now, trying to see if she could look in two directions at once. Derpy was so good at that… "Huh?" she replied, looking up.

Applejack shook her head. "Come with us, sugarcube. Twilight needs room to think."

"Okie dokie lokie! Don't fall in, Twilight!" Pinkie replied casually. Twilight felt her stomach turn as she considered the implications of that statement.

“Twilight,” Rarity said, feeling her friend's unease, “you be careful down here, alright? If anything happens, if you find anything, well...” she smiled, “I guess I'll know, won't I?”

Twilight smiled and nodded, and did her best to ignore the innate feeling of dread she felt from Rarity as the three ponies climbed the stairs toward the upper levels and left Twilight alone to examine the last place Princess Celestia stood before vanishing into the depths.

Alone, but for a small ripple in the water. A nearly imperceptible dome, little more than a bubble on the surface, that held still despite the current, and watched.

04. Voices In My Head

Twilight crouched low on the damp maintenance walkway and frowned. This would be where the princess left her message, if she left one at all. Up until this point, assuming Twilight's theory was correct, Celestia had been proceeding under the impression that escape lay at the bottom of that stairway, rather than ambush and capture. Once she'd realized the folly in that, she may have tried something, anything, to leave a clue for anypony investigating to find. Marks on the walls, magical signs, something un-noticeable enough that her captors wouldn't scrub it clean. Something, Luna had said, specifically for her loyal student.

The unicorn stood up and paced back and forth along the waterway, thinking, but not without one eye warily fixed on the waves. She was cautious, but not overly worried. Pinkie had been right, whatever had taken the princess was an intelligent force. It had a plan and a target and had succeeded on both accounts. It was long gone by now. But what? What sort of… thing… behaved that way? Not for the last time, Twilight wished she had the copious reading material in her library to consult. She also wished the ground here wasn't so wet; it was making her fetlocks messy.

Twilight blinked at that particular annoyance, and was forced to smile. Some artifact of Rarity's personality was rattling around in her brain, making her notice things she'd otherwise overlook. The distance had helped; she was no longer catching various drifting feelings and emotions. Now all she could pick up were solid thoughts and specific feelings, things caused and directed at ponies or objects. Rarity had stuck her hoof in a pile of messy rubble and retracted in disgust; Twilight had noticed that. Without the buzz of Rarity's basic emotions cluttering the signal, the white pony's true thoughts were easier to make out. A little practice and they might even be able to manage words, Twilight thought.

The water twitched. Twilight caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and turned to it suddenly, narrowing her eyes as her pulse rate quickened. She scanned the aqueduct slowly, tracing a careful grid with her eyes. Nothing. She could feel Rarity's attention, like a shadow over her shoulder, waiting to see what the reason for the concern was all about. Still nothing. The water rushed on toward its termination off the cliff edge, showing no indication of any sort of inhabitant. Twilight forced herself to calm down, and sent what amounted to an emotional 'all-clear' to Rarity. A now familiar warmth returned from the other unicorn and brought a smile to Twilight's face. She was getting used to that.

Twilight turned back toward the walls and began near the frame of the stairway, her horn aglow as she scoured the stonework for hidden messages. Muffled words were coming through the link now, spoken in Rarity's voice. It was nothing Twilight could make out, but it sounded like speech in her brain, just beyond earshot. The magical dynamic fascinated her. The further away she got from Rarity, the easier she was to understand. While the closer they were, the more of her feelings poured through like an open tap. Under less dire circumstances she'd have loved the opportunity to experiment with it. For now, though, she was thankful to be alone down there. Having one constant voice was problematic enough. It seemed likely that, with a bit more distance, Rarity might as well be in the room with her anyway. She could alllmost hear the words; it was like listening to a speaker with the volume turned to its minimum… or, like listening to a speaker with its volume on high, but without any sound coming through it until the song actually began, as Twilight found out moments later.

*By Celestia she has a wonderful ass,* came Rarity's voice, clear as day, commenting in more frank language than Twilight had ever heard her use before. *Do I really need to kick a tree all day to get an ass like that? Would it be worth it? It might be worth it. That's a really wonderful ass...*

Twilight literally tripped over her own hooves. “WHAT?!” she yelled in surprise, before coughing in embarrassment and composing herself. She shut her eyes and thought, rather directly, at the emotional presence that was Rarity. *What in the wide world of Equestria are you talking about?!* she demanded, and felt a jolt of shock from Rarity's end of the spectrum.

*Oh… dear. You can hear me now?* came a timid reply.

Twilight was forced to smirk. *Looks like we both can,* she replied.

Rarity summoned up an excuse, which involved a rather amazing degree of internal mental gymnastics that Twilight found herself privy to even as it was happening. Rarity gave up on her attempt to cover for her thoughts when she realized some moments later that thinking up a cover story does little good when the pony you're trying to cover from can hear you think.

*Applejack has… a rather attractive rear end,* Rarity replied eventually, with forced dignity. *Likely due to a life spent working with her hind legs. Her hooves could use a good scrubbing and buffing, but...*

Twilight had to laugh out loud, which probably looked a little creepy to anyone watching, as it apparently emerged without provocation. *She really does,* Twilight responded, sparing Rarity the trouble of having to justify what was intended to be a private thought. *I'd like to say I'd do anything for legs like those, but I guess, if that were true, I'd be spending a lot more time kicking trees.*

*Or running marathons,* Rarity returned, and Twilight caught a wistful image attached to the words that forced a mental picture of Rarity kicking trees and running races though somehow doing so while maintaining a perfectly clean mane and wearing rather stylish western-themed clothing. There was an abundance of lens flare too, which struck Twilight as a little… flamboyant. *Its the curse of an indoor profession, Twilight,* she continued. *We must maintain our figures by diet alone.*

Twilight scoffed out loud, and turned to face the waterway, though it was only peripherally within her focus. She eyed the floor for some sort of scrawling or indication of struggle while she replied to Rarity. *Diet alone, right. You exercise every night,* Twilight accused, *Jumps and sprints and everything. AJ's jaw would fall off if she could see you do it.*

There was a sensation of surprise mixed with concern that filtered down the link with Rarity's response. *Twilight...* she thought to the purple pony, *how do you know about that?*

Twilight sat upright and blinked. She shouldn't know about that. Rarity had never told her about it. No pony had. And yet, when Rarity had made a comment that was contrary to something she herself knew to be true, Twilight had simply… noticed. As though the information had been in her head all along.

*I'm getting the feeling we're going to have to be rather… open… with each other for a while,* Twilight sent. *It looks like when one of us is trying to hide something, the other picks up on it.*

*Er, yes, dear. Suggestion, if I may? The next time you have a revelation about not trying to hide things in your mind, you reeeally shouldn't follow it by attempting to bury thoughts of the rather impressively sculpted stallion phallus replica you have hiding under your bed.*

*RARITY!*

*Because that showed up reaaaaally clearly in my head, and if I dare say so myself: Damn, filly.*

Mortification flooded Twilight's bloodstream as every attempt to stave off Rarity's access to her memories only seemed to force them more and more clearly into her friend's head.

*The PRINCESS got you that?! No WONDER you're her favorite student!*

*Raaaare-it-eeeeeee!* Twilight pleaded, burying her face under her hooves. *STOOOOOP!*

*I'm TRYING to Twilight!* Rarity insisted, *But every time you try and stop me it just pushes more and more into my- oh my. Your vibration spell is much better than mine. By all things Equestria, Twilight, how do you WALK after a night like that?! Oooh… ooh. Wonderful,* she deadpanned flatly, *and now we're on to anal.*

“ENOUGH!” Twilight yelled aloud as she pulled her hooves off from over her eyes and sprang upright. Her eyes shot open, and focused immediately on the nearest object. Something was standing in front of her, not five feet away, on the edge of the aqueduct. Legs that were too big, a silhouette that matched no pony she'd ever known. Something alien that had crawled up from the waterway to grab her like it had grabbed Celestia. Terror gripped her, and she reflexively reacted to protect herself. Before she'd so much as mentally registered the thing's color, Twilight let loose a blast of violet energy toward it. The impact sent the creature hurtling over the edge and arched it over the flowing river of winter-cold water. In the instant before the magic had hit, Twilight's brain caught up with her reflexes.

The creature had a face. A pony's face.

It looked young, and feminine, and concerned. An instant later, she saw the face again, but this time it was twisted and angry. The creature with the pony face was in mid-air, falling toward the water, when it fanned out its wide, winglike forearms and the river itself rose like two massive watery pillars and rushed upward toward Twilight. The unicorn didn't have time to scream. Cold like no cold she'd ever felt enveloped her, slammed her violently into the stone of the back wall, and swept her into the flowing river just as the creature she'd attacked splashed down. The entire encounter had taken less than five seconds, and when it ended, the aqueduct was empty. Twilight's final thoughts before cold and trauma robbed her of consciousness were of Rarity screaming her name, and of the glint of large eyes and a dark shape in the water, pulling her deeper and deeper toward the bottom.

“Princess Luna!”

Captain Midnight of the Royal Pegasus Guard saluted as Luna arrived at the clouded barracks. The Pegasus Guard maintained a detachment not far from the palace, overlooking Canterlot from any number of interconnected cloud forts. The arrangement, presumably, allowed them to quickly locate and deter problems before they could escalate. That was assuming of course that the problems didn't originate from within the palace itself. Luna didn't blame the Guard for its failure to protect Celestia, due entirely to her sister's insistence of a minimal complement of soldiers within the palace, but the failure was there nonetheless. They all felt it. From the shamed looks on some of the injured to the dark mutterings of those who had not yet come on shift, swearing they could've done more, the whole complex was dripping with the urge to lash out at the as yet unidentified enemy. Luna knew a powder keg when she saw one, having lit a few off herself in the past, and sent silent hope to Twilight's quest to uncover some clue that would narrow their search.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy had arrived just behind Luna, both of whom had never stood within the barracks before. Fluttershy looked up at the hard-lined cloud pillars and shrank back a bit. The place felt military, down to its very bones. If clouds could have bones, that is. To a pegasus, they could, and these walls had been sculpted by Cloudsdale's finest to repel all manner of conventional attack. Canterlot, as it had been for ages, was well defended against any incoming siege. The futility of it all in light of attack from within made Luna's stomach churn.

“News, Captain,” Luna said, stopping in front of the armored pegasus. Midnight had served the Guard with distinction for years, and was, before all things, a quintessential soldier. Luna's interaction with him over the past year since her return had been minimal, but Celestia had described him as… 'diligent’, which Luna had taken to mean 'tedious’. Enlistment in the guard tended to pass through families, and Midnight represented the fifth in his line to serve the princess. There was an awful lot of pride wrapped up in that.

Midnight stood at attention while his two lieutenants waited on either side of him. Both were experienced, but it would be an exaggeration to say that anypony in the employ of palace protection actually got to do much protecting. The day's kidnapping was the most shocking thing to happen to the princess in decades. “Please report, Princess,” he replied with a salute. Rainbow returned it reflexively, before putting her hoof back down in embarrassment. Something about the hard and fast structure of military life had always struck her as attractive. It was just all the work she didn't like.

“I've collected the bearers of the Elements of Harmony,” Luna replied, to which the captain nodded, and glanced behind her. Fluttershy did her best to hide behind Luna, and was less than successful. He lifted a brow at the princess.

“Them?” he asked, “I thought there were six.”

“There are,” Luna replied, “the other four are at the palace. Twilight Sparkle is the princess's student, there are few pony's in Canterlot with as much regular communication with her-”

Midnight's face had turned from inquisitive to aggravated. “They're at the palace?” he demanded, glaring at Luna. “Under whose authority?! The palace is locked down, princess, there's been a kidnapping! We can't allow civilians to wander around disrupting things!”

Luna was taken aback. She shook the shock away and narrowed her eyes. “MY AUTHORITY,” she responded, and the halls echoed with her voice. “What makest thou think thou can question-”

“Princess,” the captain interrupted, “I'm afraid your authority in this is… lacking.” Another pegasus, some rank and file member of the Guard, pulled a document off the nearby desk and held it up to Luna, looking apologetic and worried, but even more frightened of not doing his job.

Luna levitated the parchment out in front of her and opened it. She recognized the seal of the princess and the Equestrian Parliament instantly.

“Those were drafted centuries ago,” Captain Midnight explained, “but are signed and current, renewed every year.”

“What is it, Princess?” Rainbow asked, catching a peek at the parchment.

“Official Canterlot policy to be taken in the event of the Princess's death or unplanned absence,” Luna replied, reading the fine penmanship, “written while Nightmare Moon was banished...”

“The document clearly stipulates that in the event of the Princess's absence, all matters of government fall to the parliament,” Midnight explained.

“And where are they?” Luna asked with frost in her voice.

“Running for their lives,” Midnight replied disdainfully. “Princess Celestia ran everything, Princess. The only thing those old ponies know how to do in a crisis is shift blame and hide in corners. The document goes on to say that if Parliament is incapable of performing their job...”

Luna's eyes had arrived at the bottom of the page, which slowly sank downward in the sky. “Equestria goes into martial law,” she said quietly, “military control, until the crisis is resolved.”

“Exactly,” Midnight replied flatly as he plucked the document from the air and returned it to the desk. “We recognize you as the Princess, Princess Luna, but I'm afraid that by the laws of Equestria, in the event of Celestia's absence, that title is just… a formality. You, and the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, are civilians. Albeit extremely important and valuable civilians, prime targets for additional acts of aggression. And as such,” he straightened up, and his lieutenants followed suit, setting their gazes firmly, “I'm going to have to ask that you remain here, under protective custody, while the Royal Equestrian Pegasus Guard conducts this investigation. We simply cannot risk your capture.”

Rainbow swallowed hard. Armored pegasus ponies had been moving slowly around them, forming a circle that closed off in front of the door at the captain's final statement. Fluttershy had seen it too, and backpedaled with tiny whimpers into Luna's rear, prompting her to look behind and register their situation. Rainbow could hear her seethe. When Luna looked back at the captain, Rainbow got behind her, and draped a wing over Fluttershy.

“Get ready to fly,” she whispered, “very, very fast.” Fluttershy could only squeak worriedly in response.

“The only thing thou cannot risk, Captain,” Luna growled, “IS MY IRE.”

The alicorn raised both her hooves and pounded them into the sculpted cloud floor. It detonated downward, cracking like a thunderclap and exploding in a hail of vapor and contained electricity. Luna, Rainbow and Fluttershy dropped through the breach and into the open sky below, with Fluttershy's scream trailing behind them.

“FLY!” Luna commanded, and both pegasus ponies took wing, soaring at breakneck speed behind Luna. Not far behind, Rainbow could hear the clamor of armor and the swoop of new wings hitting the air. They were being pursued.

“What do we do?!” Rainbow yelled toward Luna, vaguely muffled by the rapid and terrified stream of worries Fluttershy was reciting like litanies in her tiny voice.

“The two of you need to return to the palace,” Luna commanded, “Get the others and get out. I'll not have the Elements of Harmony held up in custody to be employed at the whim of those that do not understand their function. They're willing to take an old moldy piece of neglected parchment over the word of the Princess of the Night!”

She snarled viciously, and spun in the air, soaring on her back. With one clap of her hooves the air behind her split, and the some dozen pegasi in hot pursuit were swatted from the sky like annoying insects. The second wave peeled off to avoid entering the still trembling air. Luna resumed her forward flight.

“There's no telling what they may try to do to you to get the Elements to behave in a way they deem correct. You must take the task of locating Celestia into your own hooves, my little ponies. Trust each other. This land owes more to the six of you than it can possibly imagine. I know you will not let me down.” Luna set her jaw, “I must locate the members of the Canterlot parliament and re-establish control of the Equestrian government before anything else happens 'for our own safety'.”

“We're on it, Princess!” Rainbow replied with a firm salute, “C'mon Fluttershy!” the blue pegasus veered right, peeling away and diving toward the palace as Fluttershy dipped under Luna to join her.

“Fluttershy,” Luna said, catching her at the last minute. The yellow pony turned, her face still frozen with fear and adrenaline. “Watch after her, little one,” Luna said softly. “She will need you.”

Fluttershy swallowed and resumed her turn, diving off toward Rainbow and the palace below as Princess Luna soared left and deeper into the heart of Canterlot. As the meek pastel pegasus caught Rainbow's slipstream, her eyes narrowed with uncharacteristically firm resolve.

“Always,” she said, in a voice only the wind could hear.

05. Call Upon The Sea Ponies

((Author's note: This Chapter introduces the Kelpies, my take on modern versions of the Seaponies featured in earlier generations of MLP. While the Kelpies are described in this chapter, a little visual assistance never hurt anybody, so I'm sticking a few links to their design here. Enjoy!
http://s1091.photobucket.com/albums/i395/sevjano/?action=view&current=seapony2.jpg
http://s1091.photobucket.com/albums/i395/sevjano/?action=view&current=windsweptweb.png
))

“Gone?” Applejack demanded. “What do you mean she's gone!?”

If all the color could drain from a white pony's face, it had done so from Rarity's. Her legs were trembling and for the life of her she couldn't seem to get her body to behave correctly. It was as though someone had pulled the plug on half her switches. She felt unhinged, and she had a reasonable guess as to why.

“Twi..Twilight!” She stammered. “S-s-s-s-something got her, from the water… just appeared in front of her face! I can't hear her anymore, its like there's a hole in my head where her mind was. I can f-f-f-feel where she's supposed to be but when I try to talk to her its like… like an empty room.” Rarity stumbled sideways into Pinkie, who supported her. “Can't... seem to get my balance...” she muttered.

“We gotta get down there!” Applejack exclaimed, turning from her examination of the debris in the hall to run back for the stairway. “Never should've left her by her lonesome, what was I thinkin’!”

“Wait!” Pinkie Pie yelled after her, which brought the workhorse to a skidding stop. The pink mare was supporting Rarity, whose legs were twitching like they were only receiving half the signals they should be. “I think she's hurt!”

“I'm… fine. Twilight needs help!” Rarity replied, trying to shove off of Pinkie, but stumbling as soon as she put weight on her legs. Pinkie caught her a second time and looked at Applejack worriedly.

“Its probably her connection with Twilight,” Pinkie said, bracing Rarity against a wall. “It’s like half the air in her balloon went out. Shes sinking...” Fear washed over both Pinkie and Applejack's faces.

“Does that mean… Twilight is...”

Rarity shook her head. “She's alive,” she assured them. “I can f-f-f-feel her. It’s like… like knowing somepony is in the room with you, even when you can't see them. But shes not th-th-” Rarity had to force the words out, like her mind was hitting speed bumps, “thiiiinking at me like she was. It’s all dark fog. I-I-I think she's unconscious,” the unicorn breathed hard, “and it's weighing me down.”

Rarity had closed her eyes to try and focus her thoughts amidst the haze of Twilight's floating fog, and as such was caught by surprise when she felt herself lifted off the floor. When she opened her eyes, she was sprawled over Applejack's back, being held steady by Pinkie Pie to her right. Applejack took off toward the aqueduct with Rarity expertly balanced astride her, as only a rodeo pony could.

“Th..Thank you,” Rarity whispered, a hint of shame in her voice. She prided herself on cleanliness and civility, but 'feeble' was never something she wanted associated with her name. Applejack's sidelong nuzzle came as a welcome surprise.

“Think nothing of it, Rarity,” she assured the unicorn. “You just see what you can do about rousin’ Twi through that link thingy of yours. I've got enough legs for both of us.”

The fact that Rarity could still summon up a less than publicly appropriate comment about Applejack's legs in her mind gave her hope for collecting what cognizance she had left. She made repeated calls to Twilight, but every attempt seemed like tossing pennies down a well. Nothing but darkness and stagnant, dead silence. Cold, too. She was cold. Or maybe she had been cold? Rarity backtracked, and reexamined the last set of imagery she'd received in a terrified, reflexive jumble. It was like staring at a memory through a distorted lens. She'd seen something… attacked it...

“Guys, wait up!”

Rainbow's voice echoed down the hallway, and the three landlocked ponies turned to face her. She and Fluttershy were charging down the hall toward them, and Fluttershy was shaking her head violently.

“No, don't wait up!” she yipped, “keep running!”

Applejack cocked her head to the side, but when Fluttershy shot past her toward the hallway, she took it as a signal to take her word for it and followed suit.

“Why are you running?” Pinkie asked as she galloped alongside Rainbow. They took a turn hard and Pinkie advanced a few paces to help hold Rarity on Applejack's back. The weight didn't seem to bother the workhorse, but Rarity was gripping her flanks with a look of abject terror on her face.

“Some crazy old law written before Nightmare Moon was defeated gave control of Equestria to the military should its usual rulers go missing,” Rainbow answered, growling. “They tried to hold us in 'protective custody' and called Princess Luna a 'civilian'. Can you believe that?”

“I can believe all sorts of things,” Pinkie replied proudly.

Rainbow rolled her eyes, then frowned. “Wait,” she said, “why were you running?”

“Rarity said Twilight saw some kinda crazy water thing in the crazy river place through their crazy brain telephone!” Pinkie said happily, then frowned. “Oh,” she added, “And then she got knocked out by something and it gave Rarity a bad case of the derps. We're kinda scared for her life.”

“WHAT?!” Fluttershy asked in shock, but Applejack cut her off, moving into single file so they could descend the stairwell leading to the aqueduct.

“Where's Luna?” she demanded.

“S-s-s-she split off from us,” Fluttershy stammered, “something about finding the members of Equestria's Parliament to re-establish the working government.”

“She told US to track down the princess,” Rainbow added, as the team arrived with a skittering halt at the bottom of the stairs. Fresh water was on the pathway, but there was no Twilight to be found.

“Looks like we may be missin’ more than just the princess...” Applejack muttered, a hint of worry in her eyes. She knelt down to let Rarity off her back, where the white unicorn struggled to maintain her footing. “Fan out, everypony,” she said, “Pinkie, stick near Rarity and make sure she doesn't fall in the river.”

“Oh come now,” Rarity protested, her knees still trembling, but Applejack shot her a glare.

“Come nothin’,” Applejack said firmly, “I am NOT losing any more ponies today.”

“Nothing over here!” Rainbow reported, having flown down the length of the pathway. Applejack pawed at the ground nervously.

“Ya know, this coooould be a good thing,” Pinkie commented. The looks she received would've made any other pony swallow their own tail rather than continue, but Pinkie paid it no mind. “Think about it guys. Before, we didn't have anything at all to tell us where Princess Celestia might be. But if Twilight was taken by the same thing, they're probably heading to the same place!”

“Then we've lost a princess AND a friend!” Applejack shot back, seething. Pinkie tilted her head and pointed her hoof at Rarity. Slowly, Applejack turned, and realization dawned on her. “You can talk to Twilight. You said you were doin’ it when we were upstairs. We can use your link to find her!

“Only if she wakes up!” Rarity countered worriedly, “I k-k-k-keep trying but my words just aren't getting to her! I don't know what else to do, I'm rather new at all this!”

“You're probably just not being loud enough, silly!” Pinkie offered, beaming a smile. “Ponies can't hear words when they're sleeping.” She flipped up the flap on Applejack's saddlebag, which still contained the book that held the Elements of Harmony within it. “You gotta be a bit more direct!” She took hold of the book with her mouth, and with one powerful whip of her neck, slapped the flat side of it against Rarity's rear with a loud enough THWACK to make every pony in the room wince sympathetically.

Twilight Sparkle jolted bolt upright with a start. Her head was still lingering in a haze, but memories and images slowly coalesced in her mind. Cold. Wet. Fear. Some creature she'd never seen before. It had crept up on her… but it hadn't looked aggressive. It was just there, from nowhere. She'd struck it, and then… here she was. Alone, in the dark, in a strange place, with no idea what had brought her there. And to top it off, she was soaking wet, her ass stung like all giddy up, and she was filled with a completely unexplainable urge to murder Pinkie Pie.

By and large, it was a situation all pony parents warned their fillies would happen if they went around flaunting their cutie marks too much.

*Twilight?* came a familiar voice in her head, if such things could be called familiar. A welcome one, anyway.

*RARITY! I'm alright, are you OK?*

*A right sight better than Pinkie Pie shall be when I'm through with her. Twilight, we need to be careful. You were unconscious, and I could barely stand while you were. This link seems to affect us physically. I dread to think what would happen should one of us get injured. Where are you?*

Twilight turned to look at her flank, and the sympathetic sting she felt there from what she'd absorbed from Rarity's mental imagery had to be Pinkie Pie's definition of direct communication. It was a fair example of what Rarity was afraid of. *I'm not… sure...* Her eyes had drifted upward, and were now focused on a form that floated some seven feet away, suspended in the black, and looking back at her. *Rarity… I'll uh… get back to you on that.*

“It” was a she. Twilight could see it in the face, which was clearly pony, as much as hers or any others were. She was adorned in cheerful blue-green, and had hair of light pink with white streaks down the middle, cropped short and angled into a cute pixie-like cut. The eyes were a deep golden yellow that caught the light of Twilight's apparently self-illuminated chamber. The body, however, was distinctly less equine. Twilight could see similarities between it and her own: both were sleek and lithe, both seemed to possess the same build. But where Twilight's front legs were, this other girl had long, wing-like fins with three long, flat digits that formed a swimming surface not unlike the front fins of a seal, though apparently with greater dexterity. Where Twilight's rear hip carriage and legs would begin, this girl's body continued into a gradually tapering tube that resembled the rear half of a dolphin, but rather than terminating in a tail fin, her fin took up the majority of the tapering shape, and was significantly larger than a dolphin's would be, proportionately. From the way it bent and flexed as the girl hovered there, Twilight imagined it could be contorted into contact points for mobility on land, though she doubted it was anywhere near as efficient as her own legs. But in water...

That's where they were, she realized. Underwater. Twilight knew a few spells to keep water out of a room, but this… it was like being inside a bubble. She could hear drops of water echo as they dripped off her body. The curved, clear surface causing any noises to reverberate in distorted ways around her. It was small, some twelve feet in diameter, but the utter clarity of it made it seem to extend far beyond its physical borders. Not that there was anything to look at beyond her bizarre new companion. It was very, very dark out there. Oppressively so. Dark, and enormous.

Twilight took a defensive stance, though without being startled into aggression, she was far more cautious than last time. The girl outside lifted one of her flippers and curled its two outside digits in, forming what appeared to be a hand shaking a finger warily. She opened her mouth and a bubble slipped out of it, traveling upward. And upward. And upward, until it disappeared from sight entirely, having never reached the surface. Twilight got the idea, even as the grim memory of the cold water returned to her thoughts.

“You've got me,” she said aloud, as a means of testing if she could be heard. “I get it. I attack, and the bubble breaks, right?”

The girl outside nodded. At least Twilight could speak to her, though it was yet to be seen if she could speak back. She cursed her current situation. This deep, with no idea where she was or how far off the surface was, she really was trapped. She could teleport, but to where? Without some direction, some point of reference, she'd end up… anywhere. In the ocean, in a rock, there was nothing to see, nothing to fix on to.

The girl gave a little flip of her massive tail fin and swooped elegantly over the bubble, turning a slow, drifting roll as she did so and coming to a halt at the bottom, near Twilight. She was settled on the ground now, just outside the edge of the sphere, and stood near as tall as Twilight did, and with much the same posture. The similarities between the two creatures were too specific to ignore. Twilight struggled back through years of study to try and assign a name to what she was seeing, but the only one to come to mind was outright impossible.

She had a gradient of white on her fins that looked a bit like surf on the waves. It appeared again on her back, Twilight noticed, surrounding a small, unobtrusive dorsal fin. Twilight had seen it during the roll. She'd also seen something else, but refused to believe it, until the girl turned sideways in the water and forced it into view.

A cutie mark.

“How...”

It looked like a full moon, but with the outlines of clouds removed from its depiction, forming what appeared to be a nighttime scene on what amounted to the other girl's flank. The image itself was less important than its existence. Nothing had cutie marks, save for ponies. Nothing at all. And yet...

The other girl had put her flipper against the side of the bubble and was pressing gently against it. Her look wasn't threatening, but she did seem to be indicating that Twilight should step back. Keeping a little distance between herself and the… sea… pony… struck Twilight as a good idea either way, and she relented a few feet of space. The bubble bowed, and the other girl squeezed through it without compromising its integrity, like a soapy horn would do to a soap-bubble. When she'd entered the entire way, she took a deep breath, and smiled warily at the rather unnerved pony.

“Kelpie,” she said simply, in a light voice that surprised Twilight with its frank openness. She'd rather expected some sort of weird… bubble language or something. This girl spoke like she'd just come up from down the streets of Ponyville.

“..Wuh?”

“It’s the word you're looking for.” She'd tilted her head and was eying Twilight from the side. “It’s what I am. A kelpie. A water pony.”

Twilight made a face. “Kelpie's don't exist,” she insisted. “I've seen that word in all of two encyclopedias, both of which began with 'Descriptions of Fantasy Mythology' on their covers.”

“Oh!” the other girl replied, looking surprised. “I didn't know! I wish somepony told me this stuff earlier, I've gone my whole life thinking I was real. I'd better get going.”

Both ponies stared at each other for a moment, Twilight with her mouth slightly open, the other girl with a brow lifted, as though waiting for reality to swallow her up for the crime of being make-believe.

“Hmm,” she commented flatly after a few seconds had passed. “Seems I'm still around. Crazy.” She smirked at Twilight's face and repeated her earlier proclamation. “Kelpie.”

Twilight composed herself after a moment's deliberation. “Alright,” she ventured, “let’s say you are.”

“Yay!” the light blue kelpie replied sardonically. “Thank the waves for small victories.”

Twilight had to crack a smile, if only internally. The kelpie girl was slightly smaller than Twilight herself, who had never been known for her size, and had a chunk, like a bite mark, missing from her right ear. It lent a degree of scrappiness that matched her apparent sarcastic streak, and Twilight, being one herself, had a thing for siding with the underdogs.

“Are you responsible for the princess's kidnapping?” Twilight asked firmly, refocusing on the task at hand. The kelpie shook her head firmly, then chewed her lip, as though rethinking her assertion.

“I wasn't, no,” she replied, “but uh… kelpies… kinda were.” Twilight grit her teeth and snorted, but the kelpie girl raised her flippers defensively and urged the aggravated unicorn to hear her out. “My name is Windswept, Twilight Sparkle,” she explained, once Twilight had eased on her hooves enough to make explanation possible. Twilight raised a brow at the kelpie's knowledge of her name, but didn't interrupt. Windswept continued, “I'm a representative of Princess Aurora.”

“I've never heard of a Princess Aurora,” Twilight responded suspiciously, and Windswept gave her a smirk.

“You've never seen a kelpie, either. Tell you what, Twilly, how about you save all your disbelief ‘til the end of the lesson, because there's going to be an awwwwful lot of stuff you haven't heard of over the next few minutes.”

“...Twilly?”

Windswept erped, having not noticed her own use of a familiar nickname. “It’s uh… just… never mind,” Twilight could swear she spotted a blush on the kelpie's face, but it vanished quickly as she proceeded. “Princess Aurora is our princess. Has been almost as long as your Celestia has been for you. Before her, we had electoral leaders like you did, back in the days before the storm.”

“The storm...” Twilight's eyes widened. “Wait, THE storm? The Windigo blizzard? You weren't even involved!” Twilight leaned in, lifting a brow. “There was a whole tribe of ponies that were outright erased from that legend? You expect me to believe you were there, and we just left you out of the story?”

“Who said we were there? It doesn't snow underwater, Twilight.” Windswept countered. “When the other ponies took to fighting over resources, we went a different direction. We went deep, and we stayed there. The ocean had enough resources for all of us. It was rough, but so were we. We endured, and when your tribe and the pegasus ponies and the Earth ponies left on their pilgrimage to Equestria, we stayed out in the ocean. We weren't involved at all,” she took a seat on the ocean floor, covered by the comparatively soft cushion of the bubble, “but that doesn't mean we didn't exist. When you had all left, you'd taken the storms with you. According to our legends, for centuries following we thought you'd all died in the blizzards.”

Twilight considered. The legend was oooold. Very old. It predated Celestia considerably, and while it was widely considered to be fact, nearly nothing still remained from that era of pony history. If there had been a nation of sea ponies who had up and left before the storms had ended and had no part in the union of the races, how long would it have taken to completely forget them? Two centuries? Three? The legend was more than a thousand years beyond that.

“We… forgot you.” Twilight said quietly.

“Time does that to a pony,” Windswept replied, “and its been a very long time. While Equestria slowly grew its borders, we expanded across the oceans around where ponies first began. What you call the Everfree lands, the places that sit just beyond the magic of Equestria. It wasn't until Discord that our tribes met each other again.”

Twilight shuddered a little at the name, and tried to play it off as a chill from the water. She and her friends made an effort to not speak of him often. “Kelpies were there for that?”

“Everyone was,” Windswept replied, “Not just everypony. Everyone. The dragons in the Dragon Lands to the east of Equestria, the sphinxes to the south, the griffins; everyone. Discord's most recent invasion was nothing, miniscule, compared to his first, Twilight.” She beamed a proud smile, and Twilight found herself surprised to realize it was aimed at her. “You and your friends stopped him before he could gain momentum. You were amazing.”

Twilight pawed at the ground a bit, disarmed by the praise. She coughed lightly to prompt Windswept to continue.

“Celestia and Luna emerged from that war. Products of Discord's tampering, as we understand it.” Windswept said, and Twilight's eyes narrowed.

“Princess Celestia is NOT-”

Windswept held up a flipper to silence her. “I'm not saying she is or isn't, Twilight, honest. I'm telling you what OUR legends say. Because our Princess IS a product of Discord's tampering, and is every bit as ageless as yours is.”

Twilight was less than comfortable with that idea, but found herself depressingly ill-equipped to counter it. She really didn't know anything about Celestia's origins, or why she possessed aspects of all three pony tribes. An amalgamation of different ponies… the possibility, however remote, brought a chill to her spine she couldn't pass off as cold water.

“Aurora has ruled over Kelopolis ever since Discord's original defeat, and ever since then, we've had very minimal, very… tense… relations with Equestria.”

“But,” Twilight interrupted, “I've never… I mean, none of us have ever...”

“Asked.” Windswept concluded for her. “None of you have ever asked. You follow Celestia unequivocally, Twilight, all of Equestria does. You never consider the lands beyond your borders because that's… just… not where ponies belong! Am I right? Have you BEEN to the borders?”

Twilight was forced to shake her head. “I never thought about it. It’s just… beyond. It’s not where ponies go. I know about the Dragon Lands, we have shared schools of magic with them, some of us even keep their young to be raised with pony sensibility. It’s a really long standing relationship, but...”

“But you've never questioned it,” Windswept finished. She gave a little sigh, and looked at Twilight with eyes that betrayed a strange affection. As though she'd known the unicorn longer than just the few minutes they'd spent together. “We have a saying, down here,” she said. “'Shoo be doo'. Its short for ‘Shouponi Benthis Dumoi’. Ollllld kelpie tongue. It means 'trust the sea'. The thing about it is, 'shouponi' is the same word we use for 'be wary of'. Do you see what I mean?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “Your word for trust is the same word for suspicion. You don't trust anything fully.”

She nodded. “It’s not the greatest motto to have, but in the ocean, it’s a way of life. Water keeps us safe, it keeps us fed, it cradles us, and it loves us. And then, one day, it might pick you up and smash you against the rocks until you die. And it will never tell anypony why it did it. My point is, we don't live in a paradise. You ponies, you… figured it out. You achieved a sort of brilliant balance with a benevolent ruler, and a system for everything, and land that provides, and a princess that contains elements of every single one of her subjects. Ours doesn't. She was a captive of Discord's, enchanted with agelessness so that she might entertain him for eternity. She rules over a civilization that takes everything she says with a grain of salt by their very nature. She has loyal, loving subjects. Lots. Me, for instance, but she also has enemies. Bitter kelpies who think we'd all be better off if they were running the show, and they're the ones who took Princess Celestia.”

There it was. Twilight frowned and leaned back. “Why?” she asked. “What would that get them? Is she a hostage? If you've all done so well by yourselves for so long, why take her now?”

“Because we need her, Twilight. And you. And Equestria!” Windswept was standing now, and hoped her posture might add gravity to her words. “Something is coming. Something that threatens not just Kelopolis but the rest of the world with it and we can't fight it alone. It took Discord to bring us all together before. A global catastrophe that took a global effort to thwart.”

Twilight stepped back with a gasp. “He's not...”

“No,” Windswept replied, “he's not. But he's also not the only thing in the universe that can threaten us all, Twilight! Two years ago, you saw a catastrophe coming by looking in a book of old mare's tails and believing in yourself.” She swallowed a little, her breathing having quickened as she tried to convey her earnest. “Not long ago, I looked up in the sky and saw something move that shouldn't have. I dug through every book, every piece of crumbling old waterlogged lore I could find, and found a similar story to yours. Only when your legend of Nightmare Moon ends, ours keeps going. She was never the real threat, Twilight! Her allies were!”

The words of the Legend of Nightmare Moon scrolled through Twilight's mind as though she was reading them in front from a page in front of her. “‘On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she'll bring about...’” Twilight swallowed, “The stars… you're talking about the stars. How can the stars-”

“Kelpies don't exist, Twilight,” Windswept reminded her, “and Nightmare Moon is just an old mare's tale.” The smaller Kelpie moved forward. “They're coming. Aurora sent me to find you so that I could try and secure you as an advocate. I've watched you for months! I saw your birthday in Canterlot, I… I saw you save the dam in that rather marvelous looking costume of yours, I've BEEN here, trying to… get to know you. So that when I finally did make an appearance, I could convince you of how important this was! So you'd hear me out and let me try and convince Celestia that we need her again, like we needed her with Discord. But on the night I was planning on meeting you, out by the bridge you always walk on...”

“They took her,” Twilight breathed. Windswept nodded.

“Months of planning, destroyed in seven minutes of violence. After they did that, I was sure I couldn't just show up and try to talk to you. Pegasus guards everywhere, whole city on alert. I'd have been hauled off on first glance. I waited until you were alone, but you looked… hurt. Your head was down and you kept yelling to yourself, I was worried.” She made an odd face, “I'm not a spy, Twilight, I'm not really… trained… to not get feelings for someone I watch for a long time. I considered you my friend, even though we'd never met. It was just… a thing. I knew where you were, how you acted, how you behaved. I like you.” She chewed her lip a bit, looking like she was braced for some sort of backlash.

Twilight was silent for a moment while she considered what she'd heard. She certainly wasn't at ease with the idea of having been observed in secret for so long, but putting things in perspective was something Twilight prided herself on, so long as they didn't consist of missing homework deadlines. A sea-blue waterborne stalker was rather insignificant next the possibility of a global threat.

“You realize I have no reason to believe any of this,” Twilight said flatly.

“Oh, better than that,” the kelpie replied. “You've got a ton of reasons not to believe any of this.” Nonetheless, she looked up at Twilight's face, awaiting her decision. The unicorn lifted an eyebrow.

“Can you get me to Princess Celestia?”

“Oh yes.”

Twilight's mouth split into a determined grin. “Well then. That's progress.”

Windswept's smile beamed like a bonfire in the darkness of the water, and all at once, the bubble containing both of them lifted off the floor and shot upward toward the surface.

*RARITY!* Twilight thought dramatically to her friend. The distance had damped their empathic link, and with neither of them broadcasting direct thoughts, it had been the first Rarity had heard from her in a while.

*TWILIGHT! What's going-*

*Get everypony together and head for the bottom of the Canterlot Falls. We've got a princess to find, and I've got us a way to do it!*

As the bubble raced upward toward the air, Twilight turned an idle glance to her new companion.

“You've… really been watching me for that long?” Twilight asked, her brow raised dubiously.

“I was your backup singer during Winter Wrap Up this year,” Windswept replied. “You're really pretty when you sing, Twilight.”

“... Oh. Wow. Um, thanks!”

“Juuuuust don't dance anymore. Like, ever.”

06. Time For A Plan

When the bubble breached the water's surface, it split open, popping as though its removal from the water had destroyed what structural integrity it had. It was still dark outside, which, Twilight realized remorsefully, it would remain until the princess returned to raise the sun. It stood to reason that Luna could handle that job herself, but Rarity had filled Twilight in on the situation unfolding above, and it didn't sound like Luna was going to have time to spare. For the immediate future, Equestria was in for a long night.

Twilight sparked her teleport as the bubble ruptured and transited herself to the nearby shoreline. Teleportation had proven so useful during the fight with Nightmare Moon, what seemed like a lifetime ago, that Twilight had made a point to practice the spell with regularity. She'd gotten rather adept at it, but the long distance transit tunnel teleports Celestia and Luna could perform were still beyond her grasp. For now she was limited to locations she could see, or at least knew well.

It had been the combination of the dark outside and the depth of the Canterlot canal that had made Twilight so unsure as to her location previously. As she and Windswept had ascended, the walls of the canal had slowly emerged from the gloom, and the shore on which she now stood was a lush green landscape near the base of the falls, albeit diminished in color due to the night. Twilight knew this shore more through reputation than actual experience. That, and long distance observation from her study room in the palace during those scant times when even she tired of dwelling on books. The mountain rivers that fed the Canterlot canal all converged here at the bottom in a sizable lake and flowed toward the sea. A day's gallop away, give or take, lay the Mustang Marina, home of the Equestria Royal Navy, which Twilight had considered until some ten minutes ago to be the premier in pony nautical excursionists.

Windswept's story had put the sheer size of the ocean into perspective for the young unicorn. Equestrian ships weren’t charged with exploration; they generally traveled back and forth between one or two island territories and shore towns to drop off resources for places who lacked the room to grow their own, and to remind them that the mainland hadn’t forgotten them. Twilight had seen of of the ships before, and it had occurred to her that they were far larger and more grand than was necessary for their jobs, to say nothing of their considerable armament. She'd asked Celestia why, many years ago, and the princess had replied that sometimes, a job could change. In light of her recent discovery, and the knowledge that Celestia had been aware of the kelpies for centuries, Twilight worried over that statement more than she had at the time. She put it from her mind, and sought a landmark by which to orient herself. Canterlot glimmered hundreds of feet above her, and with a sickening sink of her stomach, she realized she'd actually taken that fall from the aqueduct's exit while unconscious.

Windswept arrived on the shoreline some moments later via more conventional means. Her wide flipper made for powerful thrusts in the water and whatever magic she or her kind possessed did a good job of counteracting the drag her hair produced. Twilight hadn’t seen the kelpie traveling at full speed, but she guessed it at considerable. Considerably more, at least, than her landspeed. Windswept kicked her tail once and hopped free of the water, landing on the shore line. Her land locomotion was distinctly less graceful that the slow, elegant roll she'd made underwater. The wide flipper she possessed was flexible and strong enough to double as a set of rear legs, with each side “walking” the way Twilight's did, but without muscles designed specifically for galloping, and with front flippers that were wider and thinner than legs were, Windswept appeared limited to a canter, and even then, a wobbly one. She wore a rather adorable look of determination on her face, with her tongue pinched between her teeth and her brow creased in a frown, as she tackled the stoney shoreline and made her way to the grass. While land-capable, this was clearly a pony more comfortable in the water. She arrived at Twilight's side some seconds later.

Twilight had returned to looking at waterfall, and shivered. “I don't think I could've kept myself safe through that drop,” she said, and turned to the kelpie. “You must have some pretty powerful magic.”

Windswept shook her head. “Different,” she replied, “not powerful. And don't be so modest, Twilly. You would've been fine if I hadn't uh… gotten you all wet.” She looked down a bit, ashamed of her reaction, but Twilight found she couldn't blame her. She'd been provoked, after all.

“That's the second time you've called me that,” Twilight said, narrowing her eyes a bit. She wasn’t entirely sure she appreciated the nickname, not from somepony she'd just met.

Windswept opened her mouth to reply, then bit her tongue and reconsidered. “Its… you know how you write about your friends to Celestia every week?” she asked.

Twilight nodded, but Windswept's diversionary tactic had not been lost on the unicorn. Twilight knew she'd looked for some parallel between the two of them before responding. That must have been the whole reason for all they spying: so that when the time came for Windswept to approach Twilight for help, she'd have a whole host of examples as to why it was necessary that Twilight would be innately responsive to. She simmered a little internally, but resisted outright anger. There was one parallel she couldn't ignore: had Celestia asked her to do the same thing, she would have, and their roles would be reversed.

“I have to do the same thing,” Windswept continued, “and my letters tend to be largely centered around you,” she considered a moment, before adding, “and maybe whatever dress Rarity's come up with lately. I swear if that mare would stop thinking about how great she could be, she’d realize how great she is.”

“You're digressing,” Twilight said, and Windswept bit her lip.

“Sorry, um,” she replied, returning to the explanation, “the letters are in code, you know, just in case.” Windswept was noncommittal on what exactly the code was 'just in case' for. Twilight assumed it was something to do with the apparent division between the kelpie princess's loyalists and the descendent faction that had kidnapped Celestia. Windswept continued with a look of slight embarrassment on her face. “I abbreviate your name when I write it, to TwLi. It always sounded like 'Twilly' in my head, I guess it sort of grew on me.” She glanced up to Twilight and shrugged apologetically. “I haven't had anypony to talk to in a long time, Twilight. You spend enough time having conversations in your head and you start to believe they've happened. Like I said, I'm no trained spy. I'm just a mare that's good at staying out of sight and likes to see new places.”

“And apparently,” Twilight added, “in good standing with your princess, if she sent you on something this important, for this long.”

“I'm her student.” Windswept commented simply, and Twilight raised a dubious eyebrow at the obvious similarity. The kelpie shrugged. “I can't prove it here, Twilight,” she said flatly, “I'm not very well equipped to prove anything to anyone at the moment, so you'll just have to decide to believe me. But when you think about it, it’s not that hard to believe. My princess is as old as yours, give or take. She has a lot of the same habits, including raising proteges. And when it comes to matters of importance, she's more willing to trust someone she's seen grow up around her than anyone else. You were sent to Ponyville to learn to save Equestria. I was sent here to find you. It’s less coincidental than it seems.”

“What does she teach you?” Twilight asked with interest, curious if Windswept's magical instruction took place in the same fashion hers did.

“How to lie.” Windswept replied, in a resigned voice. She glanced up at Twilight's look of concern and smiled. “To my credit, I'm a terrible student.”

Twilight was denied a chance to respond when she heard her name being yelled from high above her, followed shortly by a harsh correction on the part of Fluttershy, with a voice too small to make out. Twilight figured it was her cautioning Rainbow to not be so loud. Both pegasus ponies dropped from Canterlot to the shoreline, with Fluttershy landing gently on the grass. Rainbow, however, didn't land at all. She banked low and used her momentum to level a charge at Windswept. The kelpie, too far from the water to use whatever magic she possessed to defend herself and too slow on land to avoid the blue cruise missile that was Rainbow Dash, brought her flippers up in a futile gesture of harmlessness before Rainbow collided with her in an attack that no doubt had some creative rhyme for a title somewhere in the pegasus pony's mind. The two ponies tumbled across the grass in a flurry of flippers and feathers before Rainbow had the smaller mare pinned on her back. The pegasus pony snorted in her face and unleashed a torrent of anger-tinged questions.

“Who are you?!” She demanded, with one eye opened wide and glaring, the other in a narrow squint. Windswept looked rather taken aback, and being a smaller pony in general, ill-equipped to dislodge the athletic pegasus from her position. “Why did you take Twilight?! What have you done with the princ-”

Rainbow's impromptu interrogation was cut short when an aura of purple surrounded her and lifted her abruptly off Windswept's prone form. Twilight levitated the pegasus swiftly back to her position and locked her there magically, despite Rainbow's protests.

“Rainbow!” Twilight said harshly, “Leave her be! She’s… with us.” The unicorn stopped herself from using the term 'friend'. As far as she was concerned the kelpie hadn't earned it yet, not until a few more floating issues had been resolved. She noticed the slightly deflated look on Windswept's face, though, and felt a twinge of guilt. Windswept would undoubtedly have preferred 'friend' over tag along.

*Twilight,* Rarity's thoughts filtered into Twilight's mind, accompanied by a bit more emotion than the last time they'd spoken. She must be getting closer, Twilight thought, if emotion was mixing with speech again. Rarity must have heard the thought, because she confirmed it a moment later. *We're on the way,* the other unicorn 'told' her. *Rainbow and Fluttershy went ahead in case you needed help with your new… acquaintance. I'd watch out for Rainbow, she seemed a tad aggressive...*

*Thanks for the head's up,* Twilight thought back as she rolled her eyes.

“Twilight, put me DOWN!” Rainbow snarled, still held aloft by Twilight's spell. The unicorn short her a glare, but Rainbow didn't relent. “You don't know her! She's… weird and flippery! And she said her kind took the princess!”

“She also said she represented a side of that coin who didn't,” Twilight reminded her. Rarity had clearly been conveying conversations to the others as they occurred.

“You can't believe her!” Rainbow argued.

“But you believe what she said about the other kelpies taking the princess?” Twilight questioned. “If you're going to doubt half her story, why believe the other half?”

Rainbow frowned, and stopped her squirming.

“Right now, lying or not, she’s the best lead we have, Rainbow,” Twilight explained, releasing her hold over the pegasus.

Rainbow smoothed out her wing feathers and huffed as she shot Windswept a glare. The kelpie had rolled upright and was dusting herself off. Fluttershy was still some meters away, her mouth slightly agape.

“Oh my goodness,” she breathed, “they do exist...”

Windswept glanced upward toward Fluttershy with her back arched slightly, as though anticipating a second attack. At the sight of the yellow hued mare though, she relaxed a bit. Twilight noticed the look of recognition across Windswepts face and filed it in her mental evidence collection. Lying or not, Windswept's claim of having watched Twilight for some time appeared true enough, the kelpie was familiar not only with her, but the behaviors of her friends.

“You know about kelpies?” Twilight asked, and Fluttershy startled and stammered, looking downward.

“Um! Um… sort of. I mean, I've… heard of them. I have a book about mythical ponies,” her eyes widened a bit and she backed away from Windswept, quickly uttering apologies. “Not that you're mythical!” she said. “Just that, um, we thought you were mythical. We thought Nightmare Moon was too, and Twilight looks an awful lot like a Firemare if she gets really angry, so there might be something to-”

“Hey!” Twilight protested.

“She does have a point though,” Windswept commented, her mouth twinged upward in a teasing grin. “You lit a bookcase on fire with your mane when you found out Spike had been digging around under your bed.”

Twilight blushed hard and glared at the kelpie, who giggled fiercely and tried to hide behind a rock.

“What's under your bed?” Rainbow asked, not catching the relevance of the statement. She lived in a cloud, and didn't have much of a 'bed' to speak of.

“Nothing!” Twilight insisted. “He just shouldn't be poking around in my room.”

*Nothing? That's not what IIIIIII saaaaaaw~* Rarity called into Twilight's mind in a sing-songy voice.

*You stay out of this,* Twilight warned her, *Or I tell everypony what's behind all the fabric in your closet. Awwwful lot of buckles on that harness, Rarity. Awwwwful interesting attachments. I'll bet that feels preeetty invasive when its all tightened up-*

*I ACCEPT YOUR TERMS!*

Twilight savored her little victory and set herself down to business. “Rarity, Applejack and Pinkie Pie are on the way down the side of the cliff. There's a path there, hopefully they'll be with us soon. In the meantime,” she turned to Windswept, “why don't you tell us where we're going?”

“Shouldn't I wait until the rest arrive?” Windswept questioned. Twilight had been keeping her link to Rarity as a trump card should Windswept turn on them suddenly, but felt that, with the others with her, it wasn’t going to stay secret for long anyway.

“I have a bit of a… connection… to Rarity right now,” she explained. “She can hear us.”

Windswept's eyes widened. “You're psychic? Really?” she asked, amazed.

“Its a recent thing,” Twilight admitted, “as in, within the last day.”

Realization dawned on Windswept's face, and she pointed a flipper at the Unicorn. “Thaaaaaat's what was going on when you looked like you were going nuts back at the aqueduct! You were talking to her!” She lifted an inquisitive brow. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing important.” Twilight said quickly.

“Thrumming.” Rainbow whispered sidelong to Fluttershy, who blushed fiercely.

“IT’S JUST A MAGICAL EXER- oh why am I trying.” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes. “Can we get back on topic?”

Windswept erped and nodded. She didn't want to try Twilight's patience more than she had to; it had been only too clear that her casual familiarity with the unicorn was less than mutual.

“Both factions,” Windswept explained, “Princess Aurora's and the separatists, we both have the same objective. That much we have in common. We need Equestria's help for the coming fight against the Stars. It’s the way we're going about it that's different.”

“How do you fight a star?” Rainbow asked. Her expression betrayed an innate distrust of the whole situation.

“How does a star free a pony from imprisonment on the moon?” Windswept asked back, and shrugged. “Honestly Rainbow, we don't know how to fight them. We just know we don't have the power to do it ourselves. We need magic only Equestria has, and we need your allies.”

“What allies do we have?” Fluttershy asked, but Twilight knew what the kelpie was referring to.

“The dragons,” the unicorn answered, “and the creatures of Equestria that live in common with ponies. Griffins and the like.” Windswept nodded, but Twilight continued before she could. “I don't know how good your information is,” she said, “but ponies aren’t exactly the best of friends with the dragons. Spike is an exception, not a rule. The race on the whole is a bit… contemptuous… of us.”

“You, maybe,” Windswept said, “but not Celestia. Many of the dragons living in the Everfree lands were alive when Discord first attacked this world. They fought in that war, and they know who won it. It wasn’t them.”

“That's why you ponynapped her! So you could force her to call in old favors.” Rainbow said with a low growl.

Windswept met her snap with a cold stare, and her damaged ear twitched. “I didn't ponynap her,” the kelpie repeated, “the princess ordered me to get to know Twilight so I could impress upon her the importance of Equestria's help, and Twilight could serve as my advocate when I went to see Celestia. The separatists kidnapped her in order to deny her the chance to say 'no'.” She looked downward and brushed a flipper across the dirt. Twilight shivered in the cold breeze as true nightfall set in. “Our sources told us they're using Equestria itself as a hostage to force the princess into compliance. We don't know where the stars will land, but by removing Celestia from Equestria, it becomes the easiest target on the planet. If she doesn’t help them, this land will almost surely be the first to fall.”

“That's why your princess didn't come here herself, isn't it.” Twilight said softly, filling in the rest of the blanks. “She was worried about a power vacuum. If she left Kelopolis to talk to Celestia personally...”

“Then somepony might have made a move for the throne, and we'd be in a weakened position when the stars fell.” Windswept confirmed, “So she sent me, and the rest is… what it is.”

“What it is,” came a new voice with a southern drawl to it, “is entirely inconvenient to everypony, and a fine mess to put us all in.”

Applejack had descended to within earshot while Pinkie Pie bounded joyfully behind her down the trail like a mountain goat, and Rarity carefully picked her way at the rear. Rarity had been filling the others in during the climb down and when all three ponies hit the damp, waterlogged grass at the bottom of the falls, Twilight could feel a rush of relief from the other unicorn. No words, though; it would seem that Rarity had passed into a range too close for conversation, and the link had once again become empathic. She could feel Rarity's anxiety over the steep climb releasing, replaced by excitement at regrouping with her friends and a lingering worry over the progress of Luna, who had left them some time ago, presumably under pursuit. Twilight made a note to address that issue, but was spared the necessity when Rainbow did it for her.

“Nothing from Luna?” Rainbow asked, worry written on her face. Applejack shook her head, and the pegasus pony stamped at the dirt. “I never should have left her alone...”

“Now, don't you be sayin’ that,” Applejack scolded her, “Princess Luna can take care of herself, Rainbow. I'm sure she's doing fine.”

Rainbow seemed unconvinced. “I just don't like the idea of leaving somepony in danger. We were being chased-”

“Actually, um,” Fluttershy interrupted softly, “we weren’t.”

Rainbow blinked and looked at the other pegasus pony, who shrunk back reflexively. “Are you crazy?!” she demanded, “You were there! They were right on us!”

“They were,” Fluttershy replied as she dug at the ground, to give her hoof something to do, “until Luna knocked them out of the sky. Then they stopped, and they really shouldn't have, when you think about it.”

Twilight cocked her head at the yellow mare and Fluttershy swallowed, looking for her voice.

“There's… um… there's twenty pegasus ponies in a basic cloud-fort, which is where we were. Plus reserves in adjacent ones. They're all designed so that anyone fort can dispatch two other ones to any area of Canterlot without losing any time waiting.”

“How do you know that?” Rainbow asked dubiously, and Fluttershy narrowed her eyes a bit.

“Because I graduated flight school,” she replied quietly.

Rainbow found herself without a reply to that statement.

“When we um, when we escaped,” Fluttershy continued, “They sent something like ten or twelve of the Guard after us. Easily enough to stop three normal pegasus ponies, but not an alicorn. Not Princess Luna. And on top of it, it’s not like Rainbow is a complete unknown either, she won the biggest flight competition in Equestria!”

Rarity interpreted the comment about Rainbow to be a nod toward the previously shut-down pony's usefulness. Most ponies didn't question Rainbow's long list of athletic achievements; she was beyond a doubt the best flier any of them had ever seen, and a fine commander of the Ponyville weather team, but there were times, now and again, when her attitude reminded all of them that she hadn’t quite finished what amounted to basic pegasus pony education. The details of her dismissal were outside of Rarity's knowledge, as well as Twilight's.

“You're saying they didn’t send enough,” Twilight said, “when they could've sent more.”

Fluttershy nodded, “A lot more,” she insisted, “and when Luna knocked a few of them out of the air, the rest peeled off. By the time we made it to the palace, there was nopony behind us. Rainbow can outfly them, but me… I would've gotten caught, if they'd been trying.”

“So they may have some kind of plan up their fetlocks,” Applejack said as she peered warily up toward the palace. The Canterlot city lights were on, but the palace itself was dark. Its beautiful spires, usually aglow at this time of night with the orbs of light that the palace's unicorn staff maintained, were all out. The structure was abandoned, and that in itself cast a chill over the visage of Equestria's capital. “Maybe they're tryin’ to get Luna to lead them to something important, like the members of parliament, so they can-”

“It may be less sinister than that,” Rarity said, speaking aloud for the first time in a while. “When I made my trip to Canterlot to collect new fabrics, I did so with the intention of networking. I made a point to look up every name of every royal officeholder I might accidentally run into while I stayed at the palace, so I could make the best first impression I could.”

She beamed with pride at her own preparation, and Twilight had to question her own sanity when she realized the likelihood of her doing much the same thing, in the same situation. Being in connection with Rarity had exposed more similarities between the pair of them than she'd ever had guessed at without it.

“Captain Midnight is a Pegasus Guard from a very, very long line of Pegasus Guards,” Rarity explained. “He and his family have stood by the Princess Celestia for generations and are sworn to obey her, and the law of the land. That law, whether he likes it or not, does not include Princess Luna. It was written while she was gone and never revised. He's sworn to obey it! To do anything less would be treason.”

“But then why imprison us?” Rainbow asked, “Why not just ask for our help?”

“Because he couldn't,” Twilight breathed, having realized what Rarity was getting at. “The first job of the Guard is to defend the citizens of Canterlot and protect them from dangers, foreign and domestic. If Luna isn't a 'Princess' princess, then she's a citizen, and their oath dictates that she be protected. The only decision he could make that makes any sense by the law of the land was to hold her and the two Elements of Harmony in protective custody.”

Twilight looked at the others, including Windswept, who had been taking the opportunity to revel in the actual company of ponies she'd been able to do nothing but watch for months. There was a certain glow about her, a thrill of companionship. Twilight knew it well.

“If they've really declared martial law, then they're going to be stretched to the limit trying to keep Canterlot and the rest of Equestria calm during the princess's absence. Midnight probably can't spare a large enough force to go after Celestia himself, especially not when he knows nothing about who took her. But if he loosens his grip just enough on the ponies who CAN help...”

“They'll slip free,” Rarity said with a nod, “and take of the problem themselves. We may have an ally we didn't know we had.

“It’s a hard theory to test,” Twilight admitted, “but if it’s true, it might buy us juuust enough leniency to spare somepony to help Luna. The faster she can reassemble the Canterlot government, the faster we can fix this situation. And somepony should tell her about the kelpies.”

“I'll go,” Rainbow volunteered, and saluted firmly. Fluttershy raised her hoof to object, but stayed quiet, not wanting to tread on her friend. Twilight chewed her lip, before her eyes settled on the one pony she knew she could count on to deliver the message accurately. Rarity felt the stare through her link, and nodded.

“Best if we stay out of each others way anyway, Twilight,” Rarity said, stepping next to Rainbow Dash. “The distance does seem to help keep our mental jousting at a minimum. I shall accompany Rainbow and set about searching by land.” She made a dissatisfied face and looked at her hooves. “Miserable as that proposition sounds.”

“The rest of us are going to hijack a rickety boat and try and sail to Kelpieland to save the princess without getting toppled by angry waves or captured by pirates or eaten by giant sea monsters!” Pinkie declared, and grinned at Rarity, “Wouldja rather do that?”

“W..We are?” Fluttershy asked in a trembling voice, and eyed Twilight worriedly. Twilight looked over toward Windswept, who nodded.

“We are.” Twilight said firmly.

07. The Council of Harmony

“Shhhh...”

Rarity tightened her lips closed as Rainbow peered out from under one of the cafe awnings along Polo street, not far from the Canterlot palace. Overhead, she could hear wing beats in the still of the night air as Pegasus Guard patrolled the empty alleys and corridors for their quarry. Rarity backed up slightly to better her chances at avoiding detection from the air and had to bite her tongue to keep from yelping when her bare flank touched the cold brick of the building behind her. It caused a poster on the wall to crinkle, and for a tense moment both she and Rainbow held their breath, fearful that the guardponies overhead may have picked up on the disturbance. Soon, though, the wing beats picked up, and the two armored soldiers took toward the sky to look for other trespassers along the darkened Canterlot roads. Unicorn and pegasus alike breathed collective sighs of relief, and Rarity turned to cast a disapproving glance at the poster that had nearly gotten both of them caught.

It was an order of curfew, one of many now posted around the city, and it hadn't taken long for them to get there. In the scant hours it had taken Rarity and company to descend the waterfall path to meet with Twilight and return to Canterlot by means of the same route (no small amount of walking, Rarity noted to herself, and felt a chuckle from Twilight in response) the city had been cleared entirely of hoof traffic. Posters declaring martial law and ordering everypony to their homes until the sunrise now hung from the previously lavishly adorned doorways of every shop and the ornate gas lamps on every corner. Rarity, who had always fancied herself a Canterlot pony, felt a twinge of irritation at the wanton disregard for aesthetic that the documents represented. Twilight, who'd been clued into the situation as it unfolded, felt likewise, though for far more personal reasons. Canterlot had been home for her far longer than Ponyville had, and it had never felt to her like a prison.

“Third time tonight they've almost gotten us,” Rainbow said in a whisper. Both ponies were on the ground, after Rainbow's first attempt at scanning the streets from the air had resulted in the near catastrophic discovery of the circulating air patrols. “Even with both of us looking out for them. You think Luna could've...” she trailed off, to give Rarity a chance to answer before any ill luck could fall upon the princess by suggesting her capture.

“I believe in Luna's ingenuity,” Rarity said firmly, but her voice wavered a bit afterward and she cast a few wary glances to the sky. “We have to believe she's still out here somewhere, Rainbow. Or we're putting an awful lot on the line for nothing.” The unicorn quirked her head a little, as though listening to a distant sound. “Twilight says they'll be arriving at the marina soon. Things might get a little,” she made a face, searching for the right word, “confusing, for me. Try not to let me make much noise.” Rainbow's look of amusement caused the white unicorn to realize that she'd spoken more frankly than she'd meant to, having relayed Twilight's words exactly. “Not that I'm particularly noisy to begin with,” she added quickly, in her own defense, “any additional noise would be entirely contributed to my outbursts from Twilight.”

Rainbow laughed as quietly as she could manage at the aloof look Rarity had on. She resembled a cat who'd been caught falling from a perch and was trying to play it off as intentional.

“Can you really like...hear her thoughts?” Rainbow asked, once she'd gotten over the visual humor of Rarity's attempt at preserving dignity.

“Most of them,” Rarity replied. “It's more like emotions when we're close to each other, but far away, we can focus the conversation into words.”

“What about secrets?” Rainbow asked, glancing up between two darkened shops before dashing to the next awning. The quiet conversation was a welcome relief to both ponies. A fight, or a chase, was one thing. They had a job there, something immediate to do. Now though, it was just them and the search, and the constant threat of discovery.

“More than I'd care to admit to,” Rarity replied. “Anything we try to hide from each other seems to get… brought into clearer focus, I'd say. It’s made for some rather personal exchanges.” She smirked a bit. “I think I've unintentionally become Twilight's second diary. Oooh, and if you could see what's in her real one.”

“Twilight?” Rainbow asked incredulously, “Really? I always sort of saw her as too… booky… for anything bad.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow at the pegasus, and her mouth turned upward into a small half smile. “It’s always the quiet ones, Rainbow.” she said suggestively, and Rainbow giggled.

“You were only quiet when I gagged you,” the pegasus replied, to which Rarity hmphed and swished her tail.

“That was a long time ago,” she replied, her face a mirror of her previous pride-preserving expression, “and we agreed to never speak of it again.”

Rainbow nodded in amusement, but as she took a look around the corner of the next block, her amusement faded to a muted sadness. Rarity, curious, peeked around herself, but saw nothing.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

Rainbow looked up at the unicorn and sighed softly. “Why didn't we work, Rarity?” she asked suddenly, and Rarity felt her face flush slightly. “We might've worked.”

“Rainbow...” Rarity replied gently, “we were fillies, it was a fling, we both knew it wasn't going anywhere. Why… why are you bringing this up now?”

“I just wanted to know if there was some reason we didn't-” Rainbow began, moving her hoof as though she was about to gesticulate some elaborate explanation. Rarity put her hoof on it to stop her and shook her head.

“No you don't,” she said firmly, “we had something quick and fun and painless years ago and we both agreed it was best to end it. Different goals, different ideas, different lives,” the unicorn knelt down, “we've stayed friends, it’s never been odd, it’s never been awkward. We've been good, Rainbow. I know you don't have some hidden love for me, so if this is coming out now, then something else is wrong.” She cupped the blue pegasus' face with her hoof and raised it to her eye level gently, greeting it with a smile. “And as somepony who knows you rather personally, I want to help."

Rainbow looked like she was formulating some sort of argument for a moment, but it diffused as she met Rarity's eyes. Ultimately she sighed. “I still haven't talked to her,” she said simply.

Rarity let her face go and moved back a little, to give her some space. The pegasus was walking again, but the now comparative calm of the voided city lanes and the cold night air had diffused her of some of her caution, and from the sound of her voice, Rainbow had wanted to get this out for some time.

“I'd… wondered about that,” Rarity replied, using it as a prompt to keep the other pony talking.

“It's just… we've been friends for so long and I don't want to… risk that,” Rainbow continued, “It’s not like you and me, where we'd just sort of noticed each other for the first time and didn't have much of a previous friendship, you know? We did the friends thing afterward, but with her...”

“You're worried you'll lose your friend if you try and turn it into something else,” Rarity finished for her. Rainbow could only nod.

“When we were hiding from those guards,” Rainbow said, peering in through a shop window at the darkened interior, on the off chance she might spot movement, “It sort of occurred to me that, you know… we're in trouble a lot. BIG trouble. Ever since the Elements of Harmony and Nightmare Moon and stuff, we manage to land ourselves in some kind of Equestria-threatening, life-risking danger-having situation like once a month. And we always make it though! But… you know...” she stopped fidgeting, and turned to face Rarity directly, “... what if we don't? What if the next time is the last time, and I never tell her?”

Sympathy echoed through Rarity all the way down to Twilight, who had been maintaining such a low profile in Rarity's mind out of sheer awkward fear that the white unicorn had all but forgotten her existence.

“Rainbow...”

Rarity's response was cut short by a sudden declaration of alert from on high. Both ponies jumped and looked upward, where a pair of Royal Guard were diving on their position. A surge of information flowed into Rarity's mind like a high pressure water hose, and she felt her reflexive reaction to scream be suddenly cut short, replaced by Twilight's far more utilitarian response to danger. Rarity's horn sparked up and manifested a translucent barrier of magical energy just as the two pegasus ponies entered their semi-enclosed alcove. One, who had trailed slightly behind, was able to peel off. The other collided with the shield with force enough to dislodge Rarity from the floor before careening off to the side and into an abandoned street cart.

“C'MON!” Rainbow yelled, and dove her head under Rarity's body. The white unicorn, who at this point had rediscovered her personality amidst Twilight's quick save and was screaming for dear life, clung to Rainbow desperately as the pegasus took to the air. With one guard still scrambling to get out of various pies and baked goods and the other turning a wide arch to clear the buildings, they had a shot to make some headway. Rainbow stayed low and banked hard around the next street corner as the pegasus above her whistled fiercely for backup. Rarity, her eyes wide with fear as she clung to Rainbow's back, yammered left's and right's every time a new alley came into view. Rainbow gave up listening to her when she had to pass low under one of the Hearth's Warming trees that still littered the roadside displays and the unicorn began bemoaning the pine needles in her hair between commands of which way to turn.

“You wore a tree as a HAT two days ago!” Rainbow yelled in exasperation.

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!” Rarity insisted, and leaned hard to the right as Rainbow rounded a turn that took them passed one of the many fountains that decorated Canterlot's streets. The sound of one of the armored pegasus guards who lacked Rainbow's race-trained banking skills crashing into a building was drowned out by a splash as Rarity passed herself through the fountain's spray and used the water to rid herself of the tree's remnants. A brief but stylish swish later and her dampened mane clung alluringly to her neck, perfect once again.

“Do you think you could worry about that later?!” Rainbow demanded, having regained stability after the mid-flight barrel roll.

“There is always time for fashion, RainboOOOH PULL UP!”

Rarity's matter-of-fact response was cut short as a pair of guards arrived at the end of the alley they were flying through, cutting them off. Rainbow shot upward at a near right angle, her wings burning from the added weight of the pony on her back, and spun over the rooftop ahead of her pursuers. They'd barely cleared the ledge when a dark shape enveloped both of them, bringing them down hard on the rooftop and constricting their movement. Rainbow and Rarity struggled futilely against the confines of what had to be some sort of bag but were drug rapidly along the ground and, from pain of the bumps they could feel on their rears, down a flight of stairs, before the bag was pulled rapidly off and light flooded their eyes. Both ponies rolled to their legs and assumed a defensive position while their vision adjusted, but what met them in the dimly lit interior of what appeared to be an apartment building was not the cold glare of royal soldiers, but a familiar face wearing a monocle and sporting a small, well kept mustache.

“Fancy Pants!” Rarity declared excitedly, and flung her arms around the stallion. He smiled winningly.

“Indeed!” he responded. “It is so good to see you, Rarity. And Rainbow Dash, a pleasure to see you again!”

Rainbow blinked, momentarily disarmed. Behind her a door closed, and she looked back to see yet another familiar face descending a stairway. She was dressed differently, sporting sleeker, less frilly clothing than last they met, but the glasses were the same, and the voice was unmistakable.

“You deed git zem, ja?” Photo Finish asked as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

“See for yourself,” Fancy Pants responded, and the famous photographer stamped a hoof on the floor in success.

“Wunderbar!” she replied in relief, “Come, come, both you ponees, ve must git you inside before anyvonnie decides to go snooping around outzide too hard. Ve go! Now!” The blue furred, white haired trend-setter nudged at Rainbow before departing down a narrow hallway. Rainbow took the opportunity to close her mouth, which was still hanging open somewhat out of a combination of shock and the need to catch her breath.

“Fancy Pants,” Rarity said quietly, confusion evident in her tone.

The stallion nudged her. “Just follow along, my dear,” he said, “you'll know soon enough.”

The small troupe traveled in silence to the end of a narrow hallway, where Photo Finish had just finished tapping some coded knock into an unassuming wooden door. It opened, and she motioned for the others to follow her. Rarity did so, transversing a small intermediary hall and emerging on the other side with widened eyes.

“By all things Equestria...”

The room she'd arrived at was enormous, and beautifully appointed. Chandeliers and alicorn motifs adorned the walls cast in gold and black to form a startling and powerful contrast of color that continued throughout the rectangular chamber. Side rooms were set into glossy stone walls and a massive, long table with a very large chair at both ends and smaller chairs along the sides took front and center in the middle of the main chamber.

“Oh woooonderful, about time you found them, Fancy.” Another well dressed stallion turned from the table where he'd been examining a file set before him. His aviator framed glasses sank on his nose enough for him to look at both ponies collectively with a small smile.

“Hoity Toity?!” Rarity asked, unsure if she should trust her eyes at this point. The fashion bigwig gave a short laugh.

“Of course, my dear, and may I say,” he smiled and gestured to them from across the table. “Bravo on your earlier escape, Miss Dash. We were all aglow with excitement.”

“She may not actually be the Wonderbolt's trainer,” Fancy Pants commented, “but she'd give them a run for their money, I dare say.”

“Waaaaait wait wait,” Rainbow interrupted, “I mean, thank you, but… what IS this place? Did we just fall into the secret fashion-cave or something?”

“That's not terribly far from the truth, honestly,” Fancy Pants replied.

Hoity Toity and Photo Finish had stepped up beside him now, both of whom gave nods to Rarity and Rainbow.

“We are a third of the Council of Harmony,” Fancy continued, “The others, sans both princesses of course, are among the premier architects, farmers, mages and artists in all of Equestria. They stem from every province from Canterlot to Trottingham and all in between. We, my dears, are the minds behind everything.”

“Everything… fashion?” Rarity chanced.

“Everything… frilly?” Rainbow followed. Photo Finish scoffed.

“Everyzing everyzing, pegaszis ponee. Vere iz no parlement. Vell,” she pondered a moment, “zer iz, but iz mostly to geeve ze ponee folks somezing to vote on. In reality, zis group of ponees runz all oof Equestria. Us, ze others, and ze princesses Luna an Celestia.”

“The princess knows about this?” Rarity stammered.

“The princess formed this committee centuries ago, Rarity,” Fancy said. “It’s a completely secret society. You can't buy your way in, you can't be born into it; you have to be selected. Hand picked, by the Princess herself. There's no pay, no fame, no recognition. Just ponies with a vision of a better, brighter world, and the will to work for it, as it has been for generations. We are the ponies no pony will know.”

“But the parliament,” Rainbow objected, “I was thinking about voting for one of those guys last year! You know, if I had… time.”

“Parliament is largely cosmetic, darling,” Hoity commented, flipping a hoof out haphazardly. “They put ninety percent of their effort into securing their re-election and ten percent into securing their retirement. Their biggest achievement is finding new and creative ways of making vacations look like progress! Equestria is a benevolent dictatorship, Miss Dash. It always has been.”

“Right now,” Photo chimed in, ducking low and beckoning closeness to suggest secrecy, “ze rest of ze council is sneaking through Canterlot via our tunnelz, tracking down ze rest of parliament so ze princess can be put officially on ze throne. Zis whole ancient law thing haz been one beeg mistake.”

“We do our best to keep track of every contingency,” Hoity admitted, “but no one's looked at that old bill for years. Luna has ever been a member of the council, we all just… assumed she'd been written in as the next leader should anything happen to Celestia. The oversight is certainly costing us now.”

*Ask them if they know about the kelpies, and what happened to Princess Celestia.* Twilight chimed in, like somepony spying on a conversation with her ear to a wall.

*Did you know about this?!* Rarity demanded.

*Just ask them! This is the first shot we've had to get real confirmation!*

Rarity sighed and swallowed. “Do you… know about the sea ponies?” she asked tentatively. “The kelpies, that live outside of Equestria. We have reason to believe they've kidnapped Celestia.”

The three present members of the Council of Harmony looked at each other. Fancy glanced back at Rarity, before his horn glowed and the document that had been sitting on the table floated out toward Rarity.

“You remember Fleur?” he asked.

Rarity nodded. “Tall, slender unicorn? Seemed to have a mighty infatuation with your arm?” she confirmed.

Fancy smiled. “Best fly on the wall in the business, Rarity. Fleur is our ear into places we can't be. She can be the finest mare in Canterlot one day, and the lowest urchin in Trottingham the next. She got us this,” the file in front of Rarity opened, and a sheet of rolled parchment unfurled in front of her. “Copied it from the original document currently held by Captain Midnight of the Equestria Royal Guard. It is, for lack of a better term, the list of demands.”

Rarity and Rainbow scanned the parchment quickly, and the unicorn could feel Twilight's eyes gazing through her own.

“Princess Celestia of Equestria is now the captive of the Lords of the Sea,” Rarity read aloud, “the independent kelpies of Kelopolis, and will remain so until which time as Equestria agrees to surrender full control of their military forces to the Lords of the Sea, as well as all soldiers and civilians capable of taking arms in war, or Equestria delivers its refusal, at which point,” she paused and swallowed, “the princess will be executed to make Equestria into a more appealing target for the incoming invasion, and buy the Everfree lands additional time to fight back. Response is expected within twenty four hours.”

“Some eight of which have already passed,” Hoity mentioned, and Fancy nodded.

“The Guard are in an uproar about it, so far as we know,” he explained, “there's no context, you see. They don't know who to respond TO, or where to go, or even what a kelpie is. All communication with the Everfree races has been limited to Celestia or the Council of Harmony, but the Lords of the Sea don't seem to know that.”

“Zat,” Photo commented darkly, “or zey don't care. Never trust ze sea ponees.”

“The Lords of the Sea aren't all the kelpies,” Rarity spoke up, before blinking in surprise. She didn't expect to hear herself speaking in their defense. But Twilight was in her head, urging her on. “We've met one who uh… claims to be a student of Aurora, their princess. She said the Lords were working independently.”

“So that's how you heard of them,” Fancy replied, looking impressed. “You are quite the well connected unicorn, Rarity. We've inclined to agree with you. Aurora and Celestia have had a less than friendly report with each other for aeons, but never war. They simply disagree on a great deal of affairs of state. Neither has ever openly attacked the other. This whole situation is very contrary to how the royal state of Kelopolis usually handles inter-Canterlot demands.”

“Our friends are with her right now,” Rainbow cut in, stepping forward. “They're trying to get to Kelopolis to get Celestia back!”

Fancy Pants winced. “Then I do hope that kelpie you found is on the level, or your companions may be on their way to a neighboring prison cell in the middle of the ocean. Is miss Applejack with them?”

Rainbow blinked, perplexed at the question. “Er… yes? Why?”

This time Hoity and Photo shared Fancy's grimace. “I suppose somepony will have to inform Macintosh.” Hoity grumbled.

“I'll leave that to Photo,” Fancy replied flatly, “I don't believe he'll kick her through a wall, and I rather fancy my ribs remaining intact”.

“Wait… you ponies know Big Macintosh… personally?” Rarity asked incredulously.

Photo Finish canted her head toward the chairs that were saddled up to the table. Each one, Rarity noticed, was adorned with an engraving of a cutie mark at its head. She spied Photo's camera and Fancy's trio of crowns, and a little further on, on a large, reinforced model, was an over sized apple half.

“You've got to be kidding...” the unicorn whispered. Rainbow was too shocked to comment.

Hoity cleared his throat and indicated toward one of the side room doors. “It would seem, my little ponies, that you both have a bit of a story to tell, and Luna will no doubt wish to hear it too. By now most of Parliament has probably been located, and we have a very important indoctrination to attend, to say nothing of a tight schedule.” He opened the door, which led into another tunnel not unlike the one they'd descended earlier, dimly lit with wall sconces that appeared to be ancient in design. Rainbow followed behind the leading trio, with Rarity bringing up the rear, and she swallowed a little as the door closed behind her.

*Twilight,* she sent to the purple unicorn, *I think we're on the way to meet with Luna. You saw the letter, correct?*

*Windswept says it sounds authentic. She also thinks they'll go through with it, if they think they have to. We're working out how to steal a boat, but it'll be an awful lot easier if Luna can release one to us.*

Rarity nodded, *I'll tell her as soon as I can, Twilight. Do your best. I think Celestia is counting on you,* she sent a silent apology before adding, *No pressure.*

*Of course not, nooo pressure at all. Now, did I read you right? Twelve ponies and two princesses in a secret underground room run Equestria?* Twilight asked, and Rarity could taste her disbelief.

*It certainly seems that way,* Rarity replied.

*And one of them is Big Macintosh?* Twilight asked for confirmation's sake.

*Eeeeeyup,* Rarity replied, her own mental accent doing a poor job of mimicking the large stallion's voice. *I'm oddly alright with that, honestly,* she added, *he's always been a level-headed fellow.*

*And you and Rainbow Dash were uh… once...*

*Leeet’s leave that one alone, shall we, darling?* Rarity responded quickly.

*Sorry, sorry,* Twilight responded, *I just… you know… I had suspicions about Rainbow but I kinda never figured you for a lesbi-*

*AHEM.* Rarity cut her off firmly.

*Sorry! Er… I think? Should I be sorry?* Knowing when she'd overstepped social boundaries was not one of Twilight's strong points. *I'm sorry, there's nothing in the friend manual about dragging your friend's sexual orientation out of their memories.*

Rarity sighed out loud, and Rainbow looked back at her from over her shoulder with an inquisitive expression. Rarity smiled back sweetly at her, but shot Twilight an exasperated grunt.

*We were young, we were new to living alone, I was starting a clothing business and she was very… vibrant and stylish. Have you seeeeen her mane, Twilight? She looks like she was spun of the finest colors in Canterlot.* Rarity managed to convey a degree of dignity through the ethereal quality of the link. *It was very much a physical attraction rather than a, shall we say, emotional one,* she continued. *We grew out of it quickly enough. I shan't be ashamed of a little innocent experimentation.*

*With a ball gag?*

*Shut up, Twilight.*

Rarity couldn't tell if she was imagining Twilight's laughter or if it was actually filtering through over their link.

*Who was she talking about when when she said "I haven't told her"?* Twilight asked, after a moment.

It was a question she normally wouldn't have expected an answer to. Force of habit had caused her to forget the quality of her bond with the other unicorn, and its propensity for forcing information out of the opposite party whether they liked it or not. The question prompted a series of images within Rarity's head against her bidding, and internally, the fashionista said a silent apology to Rainbow for betraying her secret. Twilight's mind filled with a familiar face and a very old story seldom told, and she sighed softly.

*Oh… I see.*

08. Magenta McGorgamaforg

“You alright in there, Twilight?” Applejack asked, her brow raised in concern.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Twilight nodded, and shook her head clear of her conversation with Rarity. By now, her companions had come to notice when the unicorn was engaged in internal debate, having traveled with Twilight down the river to its outlet to the sea. Mustang Marina served as Canterlot's major port for everything from the massive airships and recreational balloons of the city's elite, to the shipping barges and cruisers that bore the heraldry of Equestria's capital proudly on their bows. The sheer size and picture-perfect lines of the mighty white and purple clad ships had brought all but Pinkie to an awed silence when they'd first loomed into view. Pinkie had been restrained forcibly by Applejack when it became obvious that the prospect of a trip out on the ocean aboard such a vessel might provoke some sort of song. Even now, hiding from view amidst the unclaimed containers situated on the damp wooden dock pathways, she continually stuck her head out and vibrated with glee at the sight of them, tethered by ropes as thick as her chest to the dock and looming high above their heads like titans in the cold night mist.

“How're they holdin' up?” Applejack asked, when she was sure Twilight had returned to the here and now. All things considered, the workhorse found the whole magic mess to be a might bit unnatural and bizarre, but it had certainly proven useful to have a quick means of communication between both halves of the divided party. Especially considering the currently mixed company, and the potential it caused for problems. Applejack cast a wary glance toward Windswept while she listened to Twilight's report of Rarity and Rainbow's circumstances. The kelpie had been following along with them via the river while they stuck to the shoreline, weaving their way steadily toward the ocean. The steep walls of the deep canal had allowed her to maintain close proximity, but there were times when she had to drift outward to avoid the shallows, and Applejack was forced to wonder if she may be chatting quietly to some waiting ambush by means of some underwater familiar none of them were as yet aware of.

Applejack was not an inherently distrusting pony, which was, in part, the problem. It made suspicion hard to let go of once it actually set in. As far as she was concerned, Windswept was a self-admitted spy, and a kidnapper, even if Twilight's 'kidnapping' had only been a short lived event. Somehow the fact that her story had been confirmed as true by Rarity's discovery of the Lords of the Sea's list of demands had only made her that much more untrustworthy. A liar that tells the truth, Applejack figured, was only buying themselves leeway for some larger lie later. Deep in her heart, however, there was a gnawing worry that she was only doubting the sea pony's integrity because she was a rather limited, rather immediate foe, and it would be so much easier to solve everything if all they had to defeat was one little mare with a clouded moon on her flank and flippers for legs. Because if it turned out she was telling the truth, about all of it, about everything, it would mean rewriting just about everything Applejack knew to be good, true, and real.

And to be honest, she was getting tired of having to do that. It was a damn near weekly occurrence these days.

“As well as can be expected, considering the circumstances,” Twilight replied, having filled in the gaps since her last update. Her voice was hushed so as to avoid detection. She, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Windswept and Applejack were all huddled behind a large, damp shipping crate on the pier, some hundred feet from the docks themselves. So far as they knew, there was no blanket alert out for their detainment, but the fact that Rainbow and Fluttershy had only hours ago escaped custody had provided enough of a worry that discretion on the part of the guardians of the Elements of Harmony was prudent.

Windswept was eying one of the ships with a look that seemed a mix of incredulity and offense. “Its got cannons all along its sides,” the kelpie muttered. “Why does it have cannons? Did no pony question why it has cannons? What would it shoot at?”

“It’s a ship!” Pinkie exclaimed in a hushed but excited voice, as though that was explanation enough. “They all have cannons! It’s what ships have! You know, to stop piiiirates and stuff.”

“They weren't put there to shoot at kelpies, if that's what yer gettin’ at,” Applejack said defensively, and Windswept gave her a curious glance.

“No,” she replied, looking back at the ship, “I imagine not.”

“Windswept,” Twilight said, bringing the kelpie's attention back to the mission at hand. “We have less than fourteen hours to get princess Celestia out of your city, which, I assume, is somewhere in the middle of the ocean miiiiles from Equestria, before your crazy nutso splinter group kills her to paint a target on Canterlot's head.” She puffed out a breath, and lifted a brow expectantly. “Tell me this can be done.”

Windswept chewed her lip a little and wiped her flipper across the ground in a subconscious attempt to busy it. “Um,” she began, “well… yeah, I mean, it can be done. Of course it can be done! All we need to do is get to Equestria's oceanic border. From there we can take a Well to Kelopolis and get Princess Aurora's help.” She nodded vehemently, her previous hesitation tucked carefully away.

“A… Well?” Fluttershy asked. “Like with a capital 'W'?”

Windswept made a swirling motion with her rear flipper and nodded. “It’s like a hole in the water,” she explained, “we use them to get around. Ocean's a big place, you know. We can't just swim everywhere.”

“We land ponies call those 'whirlpools',” Applejack commented, suspicion evident in her voice, “they have a nasty habit of sinkin’ ships that get too near them.”

“They weren't put there to drown ponies,” Windswept replied in a level tone, “if that's what you're getting at.”

Applejack startled slightly, and found herself unable to meet the kelpie's gaze. Up until that point, she'd thought her distrust for Windswept had been kept rather tightly buttoned down. She'd just been made abruptly aware that she hadn't been fooling anypony. Even Twilight was trying to avoid the awkward situation by conducting an impromptu but very detailed examination of her own hoof. Pinkie, however, was undeterred, and put her hoof to her chin in contemplation.

“Hmmmmm!” she mused aloud. “So all we have to do is get one of those ships to take us to the Equestria border, right?” she asked the group as a whole. Twilight nodded slowly, but opened her mouth to elaborate on just how unlikely that event was. She didn't get the chance. Pinkie was on her feet within seconds. “Alright everypony, follow my lead!” the party pony declared, “I've got a PLAN!”

“Ooooh no,” Twilight answered, her pupils constricting in growing fear. “Pinkie, now hang… hang on a second. We really need this to go well, we're extremely short on time and-” It was Applejack who cut her off with a hoof draped reassuringly on her shoulder.

“Twi,” the earth pony said quietly, “right now, there is only one pony in all of Equestria I'd place my bets on to get us into the middle of the ocean on a Royal Navy vessel we've got no right business bein' aboard,” she turned her head and pointed, “and that pony is Pinkie Pie. Let the mare work.”

Twilight took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked at Fluttershy for argument. The pink haired pegasus looked just as worried, but said nothing. Even Windswept looked at a loss for alternate ideas, and it was testament to Twilight's desperation that she bothered consulting the kelpie at all. Finally she sighed, and slumped.

“Alright Pinkie,” she said, a hint of hesitation in her voice, “lay it on us.”

Pinkie Pie grinned big and her eyes narrowed. From space unknown and by means best left unexplored, she produced a large tri-corner hat with a rather exaggerated feather sticking out of it, and sat it firmly upon her head. If she possessed knuckles, she would have cracked them.

“Alright girls,” she said, “Try and keep up.”

The bridge of the Sunrise was quiet, manned by a skeleton crew during the night shift as it sat idle and tethered, awaiting its next command. First mate Shipshape skimmed the recent reports on her desk and sipped at her coffee. News of the princess' capture had made it to the Navy, and everypony was on high alert, but the Sunrise was a small ship with minimal complement, and a search by sea when the princess had been abducted in Canterlot was exceedingly unlikely. The majority of her crew had been recalled to land to assist in efforts there, or were already in Canterlot or its neighboring towns on leave. Just as well, Shipshape had figured. As much as she wanted to help, most of her crew were as green as fresh cut grass, and the last thing she wanted in a full on crisis situation were a bunch of panicking fillies who didn't yet know their port from their starboard. Still, she thought with a sigh as she gazed out at the fog, it would be nice to feel useful. And that, of course, was when the door to the bridge was nearly kicked clean off its hinges, and a vibrant pink pony dressed in a gleaming admiral's uniform of blue and brass stormed inside, a pipe in her mouth and one eye clamped shut in a perpetual scowl. Shipshape nearly fell completely out of her chair and snapped an abrupt, panicked salute out of reflex, before the sheer peculiarity of the situation made her squint.

“What the-”

“EVERYPONY GET IN HERE!” the pink sailor roared into the ship's interdeck funnels, “ON THE DOUBLE! PRONTO! QUICK! RAPIDLY! RIGHT NOW!”

“Er.. .excuse me, sir-” Shipshape raised a hoof forward, but before she could finish her statement the pink pony was inches away, staring her into the floor with her one good eye.

“You'll be excusing NOTHING, sailor!” she exclaimed, and spat her pipe out at the shocked pony. No sooner had it bounced off her head and off the window than the pink pony had produced a second one of even more ornate design and replaced it in her mouth. “I'LL be doing the excusing here, got that!? Admiral Magenta McGorgamaforg, and I'm taking over this tub in the name of Celestia!” she pulled out a large stack of papers from within her coat and waved them on high. “My papers,” she said, and held them out for Shipshape to consider.

As the befuddled first mate leaned in to take them, however, the door to the outside opened as the remainder of the baffled crew arrived and the wind kicked up hard. The paperwork flew out of the admiral's grip and disappeared out the doorway, sailing out beyond the ship's ledge.

“BUFFOONS! IMBECILES! PUDDING HEADS!” Magenta howled at the present company, who shrank back instinctively to the walls and attempted to avoid her gaze. “Those were reassignment orders from Canterlot directly! I've a right mind to throw you all overboard to pick them up! If we weren't in such a hurry, I'd- DO YOU HAVE SOME COMMENTARY YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE CLASS, SAILOR?!” she'd pinned one of the smaller sailors, who already looked liked he was full on terrified of being in a room with an enraged admiral, to the bulkhead with one unblinking eye.

“N-n-n-” the sailor stammered.

“N-N-N-N is not how you address a superior officer, you sprinkle-licking filly!” Every syllable of 'n' was punctuated by the admiral's pipe whacking the crewman on the forehead like a miniature bludgeon.

“N-No sir!” he replied quickly.

“Do you want to go fishing for my paperwork, sailor?!” she demanded hotly.

He shook his head in vigorous response. Admiral Mcgorgamforg stared the crewman into the floor until he thought to respond with a correctly phrased negative.

“GOOD!” the pink pony declared, and produced a second pipe from her coat, placing it in her mouth beside the first. It seemed to take her a moment to realize the first was still there, but it was soon ricocheting off the head of a nearby sailor once she had. “Listen up! This ship is now under my command, and we're moving out yesterday! I want everypony on the boilers! I want full speed ahead! We're heading for open water. There's a princess that needs our help!”

Shipshape's ears perked up. “The princess? She’s… wait, she’s in the ocean?

“WHY ARE YOU PONIES NOT MAKING MY BOAT GO ZOOM?!” the windows shook with the admiral's thunderous bellows. A dozen panic stricken ponies threw hasty salutes and tripped over themselves in the rush toward the doorway. Shipshape, who had a first officer's rank and enough years on the sea to grant her a smidgen more salt than her inexperienced crew, was less quick to jump.

“With all due respect, sir,” she said sternly, “without some sort of confirmation from Canterlot, I-”

“Are you questioning my orders, you nautical nanny?” the boisterous admiral demanded.

“Frankly?” Shipshape replied, “Yes. Sir.”

“What. Is. Your. Name.” she growled low, and Shipshape swallowed.

“Ship...shape, sir.”

“EXCELLENT!” she replied, draping an arm abruptly over the first mate, “I respect a pony with a disrespect for authority! It shows reliability! You're my new first mate, Carrotcake!”

“Shipshape, sir,” she mumbled, “and I was already-”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” the other pony cut in, and extended the hushing long past the duration that was necessary. When she was sure she'd gotten quiet, she opened the door to the decking, and gestured outside. “Down to the hold, first mate. Let’s go have a look at our prize.”

The hatch to the cargo hold clunked and creaked open as Magenta McGorgamaforg put her weight into it, and Shipshape could feel the Sunrise begin to churn water behind its screws as the crew made haste to get it out of the marina and into open water. She followed the admiral inside, but her gait slowed to a crawl when her eyes fell on what was inside the chamber.

Some three ponies, all dressed in officer's garb, were standing in a triangle formation around a creature Shipshape had only heard tales of in song and legend, now bound up in thick nautical rope and held firmly to the deck, with one thick strang strung across her mouth to silence her.

“Shipwreck!” the admiral called her to attention, and Shipshape swallowed.

“Shipshape, sir...” she muttered, hardly caring in light of the current circumstances.

“These are my aids,” Magenta continued, undeterred, “Stars and Bars,” she gestured to one of the ponies, a purple unicorn, who lifted an eyebrow with what seemed to be confusion. “Cinnamon Pun,” she gestured to the earth pony at her right, who also frowned, “and Terminal Velocity,” she pointed toward a yellow pegasus with pink hair, who looked a combination of shocked and nervous. Magenta leaned in close to Shipshape and whispered, “Don't let her fool you. We call her The Ripper.”

Magenta gestured finally to the creature on the floor, bound and gagged in sailor's knots.

“And this is the prize of the hour. The good ol' boys back up at Canterlot found her snooping around in the rivers. A few hours of tender persuasion,” the pink mare pounded her hoof roughly into the floor to illustrate her point, “and she admitted to being part of the crew that kidnapped the princess!”

Shipshape blinked, still not entirely sure she believed what she saw. But there it was, trussed up right in front of her. The sea pony was casting murderous looks at Magenta, who beamed with pride.

“No pony is to go in here, you got that?” the admiral declared, to which Shipshape snapped a hasty salute. “This here sea nanny is our ticket to a safe return of the princess!” Magenta sent her pipe rocketing from her mouth, which bounced hard off the tied up kelpie's head and ricocheted with flawless trajectory off the heads of all three of the admiral's aids, to land securely back in her mouth.

Realization washed over the first officer's face. “It’s a prisoner exchange,” she said, looking over at the admiral, who nodded firmly.

“Correctomundo,” the admiral confirmed, “this ocean freak for our princess. Ain't much, but its what we've got! So she's got to stay in good condition, got it? The only ponies allowed in this room are the ones you're looking at right now.”

The ship lurched a bit as the moorings were shrugged off and it churned out toward the ocean, and Shipshape saluted firmly. “You can count on us, sir!” she said. Lost papers or not, a mythical pony tied up in the cargo hold and a mission to the open sea to trade her for the princess seemed excuse enough to avoid the usual bureaucracy of command exchange, especially considering the current situation. The pink pony clapped her on the back and grinned.

“Atta girl! We make way for the Equestria sea border!” she turned back toward her aids, “Girls, watch that thing, got it? And NO NAPS. Buncha lazy landlubbers...” Both she and Shipshape departed the room by means of the hatch they had entered through, and all three ponies waited for the hatch to seal shut before speaking.

“I am goin’ to kill her, Twilight Sparkle,” Applejack growled. “You just watch me.”

“It was your idea to go with her idea,” Twilight responded, pulling her hat off her head and shaking her mane free, “I don't know how she did it, or how it worked, or WHERE she got the uniforms from, but we're moving! Honestly it couldn't have gone better.”

“She called me The Ripper,” Fluttershy whimpered.

Muffled muttering at their hoofs brought everyponies attention to the floor, where Windswept remained bound and gagged. Twilight gave a nervous, apologetic laugh and pulled the rope from the Kelpie's mouth, who spat to rid herself of its taste.

“Delightful, success all around!” Windswept said with a roll of her eyes, “Now can you get me out of these?”

“Er,” Applejack replied, and gave the kelpie a sympathetic look, “I hate to be the one to bring this up, but it’s entirely possible some member of the crew here isn't going to pay any mind to the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign. As far as keepin’ our cover intact is concerned, probably best if you stay trussed up nice and convincing-like.”

Windswept shot her a glare, and looked to Twilight for support, but the unicorn's expression mirrored Applejack’s. When it was obvious that the unicorn agreed, Windswept tried pity eyes on Fluttershy, but found her too worried about turning on her friends for support. Finally she sighed and slumped. “You're really going to keep me in ropes the entire trip?”

“Well uh,” Twilight responded, “not the end of the trip.”

“Just the parts leadin’ up to it,” Applejack confirmed. Windswept pouted and slumped her head on the floor.

“VELOCITY! PUN! GET UP HERE!” came Pinkie's voice in a roar over the ship's communication tubes. Twilight could actually hear Applejack grind her teeth.

“Murder on deck, I swear to it,” the earth pony muttered. Fluttershy looked as worried as somepony who had actually been summoned by a real general could be, which somewhat served to reinforce her character. “Twi,” Applejack turned back toward Twilight, “you gonna be okay down here while we go tend to our 'master and commander'?”

Twilight nodded, and watched as the two ponies departed through the hatch. Windswept puffed a sigh when the door had closed.

“Don't think she's very fond of me,” she muttered, and did her best to roll onto her other side. The attempted terminated in a bit of a flop, and Twilight winced in sympathy. A moment later, Windswept was floating, suspended by Twilight's magic a few inches above the ground, to take pressure off the thick ropes. “Thank you,” the kelpie said appreciatively, and Twilight nodded.

“Applejack is one of the most amiable ponies I know,” Twilight insisted. “She'll lighten up, Windswept, you just have to… consider the circumstances of your appearance, that's all. You did kinda ponynap me, right after the princess went missing, and then admitted to be at least vaguely associated with the culprits. It just kinda… you know.”

“Looks bad.” Windswept finished. “Yeah, I know.”

“If you want to improve your image a bit,” Twilight suggested, with one quirked eyebrow, “you can start by telling me what has you so worried about this trip.” Windswept looked at her curiously, and Twilight frowned. “You hesitated when you said getting to Kelopolis would be easy. There's something you're not telling us.”

Windswept sighed reluctantly. “It’s not the getting there that's the problem really,” she explained after a moment.

“Alright,” Twilight conceded, though the idea of falling down a whirlpool to get in the gates certainly sounded problematic in and of itself, “then what is the problem?”

“Finding the Lords of the Sea once we're there,” Windswept replied. She turned and glanced upward toward the ceiling, and the stars that lay beyond it. The idle gaze reminded Twilight of just how much ground they'd covered that night. “I get the feeling,” the kelpie said with a gesture toward the capital, “you ponies are thinking of my city like your city. Canterlot is big, certainly, but its big in a manageable sort of way, you know? There are only so many places for an organization like, say, the Parliament, to hide. Get a few ponies together, looking in the right spots, and you'll track them down, right?”

She looked back at twilight, her gold hued eyes catching the dim lighting of the ship in glints.

“Kelopolis is...enormous,” she said, and the hesitation in her voice suggested that enormous was an understatement. “The ocean is very, very big, and it’s none too forgiving of ponies who wander off on their own. Kelopolis isn't just a city, it’s the city. It’s not Canterlot, it’s Equestria. We're all there, it spreads for thousands of miles in every direction, Twilight. Living in isolated towns at the bottom of the sea is asking for trouble. We live in a hive,” she sighed and gave Twilight a sympathetic look of her own. “I believe in Princess Aurora, but unless she's already been working on the problem, even with her network of informants...” she trailed off, and Twilight swallowed.

“You don't think we can find her,” the unicorn finished.

Windswept shook her head slowly. “Unless she's already been found, you're talking about tracking down one group of ponies out of… millions,” she said softly. “We'll try, of course. I mean if she's been found, if we know where she is, then we can do something about it, but...”

Twilight could feel her heart sink in her chest. Windswept wanted to reach out and lend support to the unicorn, but her bindings prevented it. Still, Twilight noticed the struggle, and cracked a small smile.

“Sometimes,” Twilight said quietly, with a mirthful laugh in her voice, “I think the only reason our crazy plans pan out is because we don't bother to think about all the reasons they could go wrong, or what will happen if we fail.”

“There's a certain brilliance in never thinking too far ahead,” Windswept replied, grinning wide. “We're going as fast as we can, Twilight. All we can do is keep going. At least you don't have to go it alone.” she looked toward the door wistfully, “You've got some pretty incredible partners.”

Turning her head had caused Windswept's damaged ear to stray into Twilight's view, and the unicorn frowned a bit. “Windswept,” she said tentatively, eager to find a way to take her mind off the impending dilemma of finding the princess in what amounted to an underwater country. “Tell me about yourself.”

The kelpie turned back and blinked at her. “Ummm...”

“I mean,” Twilight continued, “you said you've watched me for months. I've worked real hard to get over the 'creepy' that is inherent in that statement because professionally, I can understand the reasoning behind it. You wanted to do your research before tackling a situation. I can relate. But it still comes down to you knowing a whole lot more about me than I know about you.”

Windswept coughed nervously. “C'mon, Twilight, have you ever tried to talk about yourself before? What am I supposed to say?”

“Anything!” Twilight insisted. “How hard could it be? You have to talk about me all the time in your letters to your princess, don't you?”

“You try,” Windswept said, and Twilight blinked. “Go on, give me an example.”

“Well uh...” she began, and tapped at the deck a bit, “I guess I… I like books. I read a lot.” she nodded, “and… um...”

Windswept raised a brow and smiled. “And you're a beautiful singer, a generous and considerate friend, and a startlingly fierce magician. You've saved your homeland from more catastrophes in a year than most so called 'heroes' do in a lifetime. You help take care of a baby dragon, you work your hooves into the floor to please a princess you know will far outlive you, in the hopes that you'll remain special in her memory,” her smile widened a little as Twilight listened, mouth slightly agape. “You bounce when you're happy. You sulk when you're sad. You find a certain peace in yourself when there's a problem that needs solving, because it’s something you can put your all into doing. You keep lists for everything,” she winked, “including one or two you'd feel pretty uncomfortable about showing to anypony. You can't stand to let a minute of your life escape you without accomplishing something with it. It keeps you awake at night, sometimes. Bad dreams.” Her voice tinged a little in compassion.

She was silent for a bit after that, and Twilight swallowed, wetting her throat a bit. “Um… wow,” she said quietly, and blushed, “I uh… well yeah, I guess. Why can't you do that to yourself, huh? What kind of pony are you?”

“I guess I like books,” Windswept replied quietly, “I read a lot.”

Twilight felt the need to press the issue further, but courtesy made her hesitate. Somehow insisting on information from a tied up pony suspended in the air via magic with no means of defense struck her as a tad… unsporting. It was enough of a pause for Windswept to speak up.

“You need to prepare yourself,” she cautioned, “things in Kelopolis are… different, than they are in Equestria.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes a little and leaned in. “Different how?” she asked, “Is it more dangerous?”

Windswept made a contemplative face. “No, actually,” she admitted. “Well, I mean, it is in some areas, but no more than Equestria. It’s just… it’s old, Twilly. Equestria has been around for thousands of years, sure, but by and large everything in it came there at about the same time. Big things, small things, dangerous things, ponies, you all immigrated. There's no shortage of terrible danger in your homeland, but all of you, innately, have a sense of… I don't know how to put it. Harmony, maybe? You're all Equestrians, all of you. You know your place. The monsters, the pegasi, the unicorns, everypony.”

She took a breath and rotated on the frictionless blanket of magical energy Twilight held her in.

“The ocean isn't like that,” she continued. “Kelpies have always been there since kelpies began. Our threats, our dangers, our fears, they stem back for millions of years. Our grudges are old, our beliefs are rooted, and our passions are tidal. Our world holds us and caresses us and supports us, and it crushes and smothers and hurts us, and we've all existed in this enormously powerful, heartrendingly fickle environment since long before Equestria ever played host to a hoof. Sometimes I think that's why Princess Aurora actually has so much trouble. She's reigned as long as Celestia has, but compared to our racial history, she’s a newcomer. Before her, we didn't have princesses at all. There are lot of old, powerful families that would prefer it had stayed that way.

“You mentioned you were innately suspicious ponies,” Twilight mentioned. “Trust, at least our definition of it, isn't something you have in abundance.”

Windswept winced, as though the words stung. “I didn't mean to make us out like a bunch of backstabbing crooks, it’s just… it’s a cultural thing, you know? We assume less safety when we go outside our homes than you do. Doesn't mean we don't do it, just means… we look over our shoulders a lot.”

Twilight nodded, and clenched her jaw a bit as she felt the sting of personal failure in the back of her head. “A kelpie would've noticed you tailing her for months, wouldn't she?” she asked. Windswept smiled, and her eyes softened.

“I think it’s a credit to the success of your society that you didn't, Twilly.” she insisted. Twilight didn't correct the nickname. Truth be told, it was beginning to grow on her.

“What happened to your ear?” Twilight asked, and the kelpie reflexively twitched the injured ear backward, and smirked.

“Just life,” she explained, “I trusted a pony I shouldn't have to watch out for me in a place I shouldn't have been.”

“Who?” Twilight pressed, and Windswept chucked.

“Myself,” she answered. Twilight laughed a little, and Windswept shared in it, before elaborating. “I mean it. I was exploring someplace I shouldn't have been, alone, which is never a good idea. It just happens to me a lot, I'm kinda… solitary. Not that I don't like ponies or anything, I mean, I'd love to have more friends, I just… my mouth gets me into a trouble a lot.”

“You do have a rather sarcastic wit for such a small pony,” Twilight agreed, smirking, “Not that I can blame you, mine's gotten me into more than few problems.”

“Mine got me into a fight with a sea serpent,” Windswept said. “I didn't so much 'win' as 'get away alive'. At least it was my ear and not a flipper, that would've been miserable.”

“You can't get something like that fixed?” Twilight asked, and Windswept winked at her.

“Sure I could,” she replied, “but what would I learn from that?”

The door clunked open and Twilight startled, dropping the kelpie the few inches to the floor. “Oops!” the unicorn winced, “Sorry!”

Windswept was giving her a disparaging look before nosing the rope gag back into her own mouth for appearance, before it became obvious who was at the door. Fluttershy stumbled through, doing her best to avoid tripping on the riser between the deck and the hatch as she shut it behind her and breathed in relief.

“Everything ok up there?” Twilight asked, and Fluttershy nodded.

“You can um… tell Rarity we're on our way. Shipshape says it'll be another two hours to the Equestria border at full speed.” She yawned toward the end of her statement, and Twilight worried her lip.

“Doesn't leave us much time...” the unicorn muttered to herself, and in the back of her mind, she could hear Rarity agreeing with her.

09. Coronation

“I have logged more miles on these hooves tonight than I have in all my life,” Rarity muttered darkly to herself.

Rainbow snorted. “A little walking never hurt anypony,” she replied by default, not wanting to appear weak. The fact of the matter was the pegasus pony did a lot more flying than walking herself. The burn in her legs told her they'd logged some considerable distance over the past hour, trotting in the dim light of Canterlot's apparently extensive underground network of tunnels.

Many of the branching off-shoots were labeled and led off to places that varied from high class restaurants to alleyways Rarity could have swore had been condemned years ago. Apparently, some locations in Canterlot were a lot more important than their exterior suggested. The concept of being more than what met the eyes was one that Rarity herself was finding more and more to her liking, be it from the current company of three of the Council of Harmony, or her psychic connection to Twilight. Even now she could hear Twilight's conversation with Windswept in the back of her head, like listening through a thin door. She'd relayed Pinkie's performance to Rainbow as it had transpired, and been met with a wide grin.

“Sometimes,” Rainbow had said, “she's some kinda wonderful.”

*Have you a plan, Twilight?* Rarity asked the unicorn as she continued the trudge through the halls.

*You'd know it if I did,* Twilight replied, and Rarity could sense the concern in her thoughts. *I think our best bet right now is for you two to get to Princess Luna and ensure her coronation goes as planned. The sooner we can get the Equestrian Military on board with all this, the better. Right now we've just got too many ponies going too many directions.*

*What about Princess Celestia?* Rarity asked, her brow furrowed in worry. It was a blessing that she was currently at the back of the line of traveling ponies, should any of them see her face, they might be concerned for her well being.

*You heard the problem,* Twilight replied, *Kelopolis is apparently an awful lot of ground to cover, if it’s even ground at all. Right now the only hope we've got is that this 'Princess Aurora' has made some headway in locating Celestia. If she hasn't...*

Rarity didn't need her to finish. No pony in Equestria was going to sit by and let their beloved Princess be killed. But with no knowledge of whom they were dealing with, and no immediate way to contact them, the only way any pony was going to buy Celestia time was to give in to the Lord's demands and surrender, in some fashion obvious enough to catch their attention. That job would no doubt fall to Twilight, who was the only Equestrian close enough with any semblance of official clout. Rarity walked in silence for a bit, both in the hall, and in her head.

*Rough day, huh?* Twilight asked, and Rarity could taste the mirth in her thoughts. Her friend's sarcasm mirrored her own mood and brought a smile to her face.

*I've had worse,* Rarity replied, restraining a sarcastic reply in lieu of something more supportive. *All thing considered Twilight, our little accident has proved… mercifully beneficial. I've appreciated the support.* She could tell from the warmth in Twilight's thoughts that the feeling was mutual.

*I hadn't wanted to bother you with this, but,* Rarity chanced, *do you think it’s, you know, permanent?*

*No,* Twilight responded quickly, *I mean, I don't know for sure, but that's sort of against the nature of magic. Enchantments tend to wear off. It might take a few days, like your wings were supposed to, but eventually we should be back to normal.*

*That may explain why Princess Luna was so nonchalant about it when I mentioned it to her earlier,* Rarity considered.

*Yes,* Twilight replied, *but you only mentioned the telepathy. There are spells for that sort of thing. The part I'm worried about is the missing Elements of Magic and Generosity. If it turns out we need those soon, we're going to have a problem.*

*Princess Celestia will know what to do, Twilight,* Rarity assured her, *and you'll find her. One way or another. I, for one, am unconcerned. I believe in you.*

Twilight had heard as much before, but this was the first time she'd actually felt it telepathically. *You… really do, don't you?* Twilight asked, and Rarity could feel her surprise.

*In matters of social grace? Perhaps not. Romance? Maybe with a little polish. Fashion, oh heavens no.* She had to hold back a giggle at Twilight's growing feelings of indignation. Her next comment, however, dismissed them entirely. *But in a crisis, when the fate of Equestria hangs in the balance and all the lights of Canterlot flicker in fear? Completely. You, Twilight Sparkle, are a hero. And I believe in you.*

Rarity felt a tear roll down her cheek, and blinked. When she put her hoof up to it and it came away dry, she smiled. She'd felt Twilight's face, rather than her own, and could hear the other unicorn laugh softly as her heart beamed with gratitude.

*Windswept wants to know why I'm crying.* Twilight told her, with a little chuckle.

Rarity grinned. *Tell her you're having boy trouble,* Rarity replied, *always worked for me when I needed ponies to leave me alone.*

*Oh that's likely,* Twilight scoffed, her mood a little brighter for the banter, *me with boy anything would be grounds for serious investigation into a potentially stolen identity. You know,* she mused, *I'd always wondered about that, I even put it in a letter to the princess once.*

Rarity skipped a step and blinked. *Put what in a letter to the princess, exactly?*

*Your status as a single,* Twilight replied simply, *I was researching, you know, relationships, and I got to wondering why you of all ponies didn't have a boyfriend. Stallions trip over themselves whenever you bat eyes at them, so why didn't you have one of your own? I swear, it drove me nuts! It’s like working through some giant math problem and ending up with a number that doesn't proof, even when you're sure you're doing it right. So I asked the princess what she thought.*

*TWILIGHT!* Rarity hissed back at her.

*What?* Twilight replied, *I'm supposed to write to her about friendship, and relationships are part of that!*

Rarity withheld comment about personal privacy, but was rather certain Twilight could feel her opinion on the matter through their link. Morbid curiosity compelled the white unicorn to ask for Celestia's response.

*She told me I was nosy,* Twilight replied remorsefully.

Rarity couldn't help but laugh. She knew Twilight and Celestia shared a more casual friendship than she and the others had often seen, but that it sat on a border with a rather strict student and teacher relationship. How they decided when to be proper and when to joke around was the subject of many of Rarity's own musings.

*But she also told me that, sometimes, ponies love so intensely that they don't have room to split their attention,* she continued, *and that love didn't always have to be two ponies. At the time I wasn't sure what to make of that, I sort of peeked around to see if you might, I don't know… have a griffin boyfriend or something.*

Rarity laughed out loud, and was mercifully spared embarrassment as it coincided rather perfectly with a joke Fancy Pants was making. He shot her an appreciative look and she smiled rather nervously in response.

*I assure you, Twilight, no such alien lover exists,* Rarity replied, *I'm not sure what the princess may have meant, but my bachelorette status is due entirely to a love of the chase, more than the capture. There's more thrill in it, that's all.* She smiled, but it faded a bit as she felt Twilight worming around in her brain, probing her memories.

*I think,* Twilight replied, *it’s your work.*

*My...*

*Your work. Your art. It consumes you. Every moment of every day, you dwell on fashion. You cry when you can't get along with it, you revel when you find a pattern that agrees with you, you equate your value to what you can put on a mannequin. You love it, Rarity. I just hadn't realized that sort of love could be so much like what other ponies call 'real' love until I got into your head and felt it myself. I think you've never given your heart to somepony else for anything more than a week long fling because you already have a love of your life.*

Rarity listened to the words in her head and felt her hooves grow heavier against the stone floor. It wasn't a revelation to her; she was the first to tell anypony that business came before pleasure. But now, with Twilight in her mind, seeing her thoughts as they truly were, the magnitude of her devotion was laid a tad more bare to her than normal.

*I have… passed up a few personal opportunities in the name of fashion,* Rarity admitted softly. *It’s like any relationship, Twilight. There are goods and bads, and ups and downs. If the downs beat the ups often enough, you stop. Some days, the downs have beaten the ups rather soundly. I wouldn't call my marriage to my work to be… without complication.*

*But you still do it.* Twilight observed.

*Every day,* Rarity confirmed, *to a creature that creates, the option to 'not create' simply isn't available, Twilight. It would be like… snuffing out the sun. Like living in loneliness. I don't make dresses because I want to. I make them because if I didn't, I would surely go mad.* Her words didn't carry the usual degree of flair and embellishment Rarity was known for. They seemed almost bittersweet. She smiled inwardly. *There's an old stereotype about artists suffering for their art, but it’s not the art we suffer for.*

Twilight listened not just to the words, but the thoughts and feelings that filtered in with it. Strange explosions of light and color she recognized as 'inspiration', but had never seen in this context. It never ended; every new sight, every new thought, every new experience brought on more and more creations in a deluge of creative endeavor.

*It’s the fact that there's only twenty four hours in the day, and we have to sleep away some six or eight of them every night,* Rarity explained, *and eat, and drink, get sick. Survive. What time remains will never, ever, be enough time to create everything we need to create. In the end, Twilight, it is the curse of every artist to never finish their life's work. It is, at its core, dreadfully unfair.*

*Being artistic actually sounds a little… psychotic.* Twilight replied in a troubled tone.

*It is, a bit,* Rarity replied, *but at least the hours are dreadful and the pay near non-existent. Thank Celestia I'm a unicorn. Doing my job without magic would bankrupt me in a week!* Rarity chuckled at the thought. *That, and I make expensive dresses. There are certainly less profitable outlets for creative energy, I just happen to be a rather savvy business pony on top of a fabulous designer.* Her usual mask of dignity and confidence had returned, and she shifted the subject. *Besides, Twilight, you're one to talk about over-dedication to a cause. If you're not shopping for food or supplies I don't think you leave that tree of yours.*

Rarity felt Twilight groan inwardly. *Pleeeeease don't remind me about the library,* she pleaded, *all that organizing, all those books, all my work!*

*All those things you keep under your bed...* Rarity added.

The jolt of shock that lit up in Twilight hit Rarity like a one of Mrs. Cake's famous sour apple treats. She had to hold back tears of laughter as she felt Twilight's abject terror welling up in her chest as the purple unicorn realized for the first time since the accident that the contents of her bedroom were likely strewn all over downtown Ponyville.

*WE NEED TO GO BACK TO PONY-*

*Nopony is going back to Ponyville, Twilight.* Rarity told her firmly. Twilight's replies were less 'words' and more various mental whimpers and feelings of overwhelming mortification. Rarity could barely restrain her laughter, and was mildly surprised her grin wasn't lighting up the tunnel with its intensity. *At least they don't know who gave it to you.*

*It was sort of a… gag gift, in her defense.* Twilight insisted. *She'd suggested I make use of the harem and I'd-*

“Harem?!” Rarity exclaimed aloud, and the ponies in front of her paused and looked back, puzzled. “S… sorry, er… Hair-um. My… hair, is um… out of… place.” She smiled nervously and made a show of adjusting it.

“Ja, quite,” Photo Finish agreed, and the walk continued.

*Princess Celestia has a harem?!* Rarity shot to Twilight once she'd regained her composure.

*Well yeah,* Twilight replied, as though it should be obvious. *She's the Princess of Equestria. It’s actually in a reeeaaally beautiful building, I've been in there a few times just to see it. Shallow pools, great big stained glass ceilings, great big… beautiful… uh...*

The mental image alone was enough to cause Rarity to flush red. *And she let you IN there?*

*I'm her personal student!* Twilight replied proudly. *The whole palace was open to me, except for a few rooms here and there. I just never really… you know. I mean she kinda suggested I should, but I didn't really have the uh… well there was studying to do and… things.*

*Twilight Sparkle,* Rarity thought, in as even a tone as she could manage, *if you were not the very definition of the best friend a pony could have, I would murder you with my mind for passing on that opportunity.*

*Er… I'm not sure it works like that-* Twilight replied warily.

*For this, Twilight,* Rarity fumed, *I would find a way.*

*Oh dear.*

“So that's the real story behind the Wonderbolts, Rainbow,” Fancy Pants said definitively, “and the rumors about Spitfire and Soarin are grossly exaggerated I assure you. Well, somewhat exaggerated. Well, slightly- Oh look! We've arrived!”

Rarity snapped out of her internal conversation just in time to avoid a rather embarrassing collision with Rainbow's rear end. She peeked up over her friend's shoulder and watched as Fancy pushed open a door not unlike the one they'd exited earlier, which flooded the tunnel with temporarily blinding light. The sound of voices followed it, and when Rainbow's eyes adjusted, the full expanse of the room came into view.

“Pony Parliament, ladies!” Fancy announced. “Er, by means of the VIP entrance.”

Rarity had emerged with the others atop a wide white stone balcony overlooking the expansive Pony Parliamentary corral. The building itself was huge, with wide, stacked rows of seats for various representatives from communities all over Equestria. Most of those rows were filled now, with ponies Rarity recognized from campaign posters and advertisements she'd seen during her trips to fashion shows and fabric shops. The place radiated upper-class, from the posture of its population to the perfect placement of its inlaid gold and silver filigrees and fine royal motifs.

“And none of this...means anything?” Rainbow asked. Rarity would've asked herself had she been a bit more in the moment during the trip through the tunnels. Talking to Twilight had been a welcome distraction from an otherwise dismal situation.

“It’s not quite as… useless… as all that,” Fancy replied quietly. In their current position they were largely out of view, save for any pony on the front speaking dais that might look in their direction. At the moment, there were two: a unicorn Rarity didn't recognize, probably some member of the cabinet, and Princess Luna herself. Seeing her alive and intact sent a wave of relief through Rarity that radiated down the line to Twilight. Finally, progress.

“We don't run every little tiny detail of every little tiny thing,” Fancy explained in a hushed voice, “there isn't a need for that, to say nothing of the mountainous amount of work it would imply. We run things on a scale of such magnitude most ponies wouldn't know, or care, what the result was. The ponies you elected down there do perform some manner of governing, but their tasks are… let’s call them 'menial'.” He pondered that a moment, before appending, “'Domestic' may also work. If a pony wants to build an addition to their home, it goes through all the circles of bureaucracy you'd expect it to go through. If the railroad needs an upgrade or the Weather Factory needs more distributors, these ponies handle the hoofwork. But when the sphinxes in the southern wastes beyond Equestria are mobilizing for war, or when the dragons demand some exchange or another in return for not invading en-masse, no pony here hears about it. The princesses do, and we do.”

“They've… done that?” Rarity asked in shock, and Fancy smiled and winked.

“Not as yet they haven't, my dear,” he replied with a hint of pride in his voice, “you're welcome.”

“Twilight Sparkle has more in common with Starswirl the Bearded than she knows,” Princess Luna said, amusement showing on her face. The sudden proximity of her voice made Rarity and Rainbow jump in surprise. She must have noticed them while Fancy was speaking and made her way to the balcony, because she currently stood behind them. “He too kept friends who had an odd love for showing up in places they were instructed to leave.”

“Princess!” Rarity and Rainbow exclaimed together. Somehow speaking to her directly helped cement her existence in Rarity's mind. Finally catching up to her had made her realize just how slim their chances had been in finding her to begin with.

“Not as yet.” Luna replied, in response to her title. She nodded out over the balcony, “but soon. Why are you two here? Specifically you,” she poked at Rainbow's chest, who shrank back a bit, “whom I specifically instructed to commit your party to escaping Canterlot.”

Rainbow was about to stammer a response when Rarity cut her off. “Rainbow is here to look after me, Luna,” the white unicorn said in her friend's defense. Using Luna's name without her title still felt odd, but she'd insisted on it during Nightmare Night, and in all their meetings since, 'Princess' had rarely come up. A degree of familiarity seemed beneficial now. “Twilight has discovered crucial information about your sister's whereabouts, and we needed to get it to you. Since Twilight and I seem to be able to talk to each other, uh… mentally, I was sent to find you. Rainbow came with me to improve my chances.”

“I'd expect no less from the Element of Loyalty,” Luna replied, and smiled at Rainbow momentarily, before Fancy handed her the scroll containing the demands of the Lords of the Sea. It unfurled before Luna's eyes and Rarity could see her brow furrowing as she traveled down every line. By the time she'd finished, her eyes had narrowed into a glare harsh enough to slice the stone of the balcony's floor. Rarity swallowed and spoke up as Luna completed the letter, in hopes of filling in the blanks.

“Twilight found one of the kelpies,” Rarity explained, and Luna fixed her icy glare on her. “Well, er, rather one of them found her. Apparently there are two parties of them, you see, and one half-”

“One half took the Princess and ponynapped her and wrote this ransom letter thing, because they need Equestria to help in this big huge battle they think is coming-” Rainbow cut in, speaking quickly and urgently. Rarity nodded and picked up during Rainbow's breath.

“Right, and the other half works for Princess Aurora, and she sent her student, who was going to try and convince Twilight to convince Princess Celestia that Equestria needed to help willingly or no pony would be able to survive-”

“Because it’s like a global problem, right?” Rainbow continued, “And Windswept-”

“That's Aurora's student,” Rarity inserted.

“Right, she was about to tell Twilight all this when these other kelpies came in and ponynapped Princess Celestia and-”

Luna's eyes had been darting back and forth between the yammering duo as they spoke, and she finally tired of attempting to string their conversations. “Enough!” she said firmly, and brought both ponies to a screeching stop.

Rarity and Rainbow tightened their lips closed while Luna considered.

“Aurora would not kidnap Celestia,” she said after a moment, but with solidarity in her voice. “They've quarreled for years, but there are centuries of history between us. She would never.”

Rarity breathed outward, and flicked that thought to Twilight. *It would appear Windswept is on the level, Twilight.*

*Or one heck of an actress,* Twilight replied, *but this adds weight to her story. At least we're traveling in the right direction.*

“I've not heard of the 'Lords of the Sea',” Luna continued, “but this wouldn't be the first time Aurora has had trouble with internal affairs. To take Celestia though,” she shook her head. “What battle?” she asked firmly. “What could they possibly want her for? The kelpie nation has never expressed a collective desire to control Equestria. There's nothing here they want! They live in the ocean!”

Rarity bit her lip, and exchanged nervous glances with Rainbow. Neither of them looked forward to having to explain the reasoning behind the kidnapping. The line between the creature known as Nightmare Moon and the playful Luna they'd come to love had always been fuzzy at best, and her exact physical state while banished to the moon had never truly been explained. All things considered, they hadn't wanted to ask her. Luna saw the worry in their eyes, and her own look softened, but her voice was still urgent.

“Please,” she repeated, “if you know what's going on here, you have to tell me. Why have they taken my sister? What battle?”

Rarity took a breath and looked into Luna's eyes. “Luna,” she asked softly, “can you remember anything you… anything Nightmare Moon may have done while on the moon? Any promises she may have made?”

Luna looked confused. “Promises?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “It was a thousand year incarceration, Rarity, I can't-”

“Stars.” Rarity said, and Luna grew silent. Rarity reached into her mind, and pulled the ancient text from Twilight's memories, where it sat in a cold, dark corner surrounded by emotions of fear and urgency. “‘On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she'll bring about everlasting night.’”

Luna's expression had transitioned from urgency and determination to a pallid mask of fear. “No...” she whispered softly.

“Princess,” Rarity continued, “the kelpies think the stars are coming here. Their story of Nightmare Moon doesn't end where ours does. They don't seem to know how, or why, but they know it’s coming, and they think its going to take every creature on the planet to survive it.”

“I promised them everything,” Luna said, her voice so small and muted that Rarity could barely pick it up. Her wings had tucked in close and her legs were wobbling slightly. Rarity leaned in to support her, and Rainbow took her other side, draping a wing across her back.

“Princess,” Rarity said in a gentle tone, “what are they?”

“Insanity.” Luna replied, finding her voice again. With the support of Rarity and Rainbow, she put strength back into her legs. “Madness incarnate. I can't...” she swallowed.

Rarity could see troubled memories swimming in her eyes. She didn't let go for fear Luna would fall without her assistance, and Rainbow brushed her back slowly with her wing.

“They don't speak,” Luna continued, the words flowing quicker now. “I can't tell you what Nightmare Moon told them. It took centuries of steadily decaying thoughts, like… like sliding inch by inch down a well, with the light at the top getting smaller. And they were at the bottom, in the dark. All she wanted was darkness, and there it was. And they were in it, and they… we...” Luna swallowed, and a sudden rush of determination flooded into her eyes. Her brow furrowed and she stood upright. “I need to stop them,” she said firmly, stepping free of Rarity and Rainbow.

“Luna, wait-” Rainbow said, reaching a hoof out. Luna rounded on her and shook her head fiercely.

“No waiting, Rainbow Dash,” she replied. “The kelpies are right. Nightmare Moon wanted a world of darkness, and gave no thought to what was in it. She made a promise clad in rage and pain, and they delivered their end of the bargain. They're coming to collect.”

“What was the promise?” Rarity asked. Luna looked at the floor with her wings drooped.

“Everything.” she said simply. “She promised them everything. A world of darkness, in return for liberation. Nothing else mattered. Some part of me saw the madness in all of it and tried to warn somepony, anypony, of what she'd done. That's where the prophecies come from. Little thoughts I sent to the world, in silent hope somepony might notice.” She looked up and stepped forward to Rarity and Rainbow. “I knew this was coming, but I couldn't see it coming. They aren't the memories of any sane creature, it’s all dark worms and mist and tiny specks of light that hover in the sky like… eyes in the dark.” Rarity could almost feel Luna's heartbeat in the air, fluttering in restrained terror. For the goddess of the moon, this was a far more personal enemy, and a far more personal failure. “I brought this down upon us,” she whispered, “I have to stop it.”

“Princess,” Fancy Pants spoke in gently. He had been standing close by in silence. Hoity and Photo had descended earlier to organize the coronation ceremony, and the conversations in the theater below had dropped to a quiet murmur. “Equestria needs a ruler. I understand your desire to be on the front lines but if you don't take the throne, the war begins here, and Celestia becomes its first victim.”

Luna looked back and forth between Fancy, the girls, and the crowd below. She chewed her lip a moment, before nodding, not to him, but to herself and her own internal decision. She looked at Rarity and Rainbow, and pointed toward the stairway firmly. “Come with me,” she said, “both of you.”

Rarity and Rainbow had taken positions just off the dais as Luna stood for her role in the coronation ceremony. Rarity had expected a certain degree of pomp and circumstance she'd come to recognize in official functions, but under current circumstances much of it was lacking. “It’s not just the circumstances,” Fancy had explained upon her asking, when all ponies had assumed their positions, “it’s the ceremony itself. You're not watching the public coronation, that takes all day. This is the emergency coronation. The protocols for this ceremony dictate that it be swift and purposeful. When you consider what it means, it shouldn't be happening at all unless something has gone terribly wrong. Normally the princess would simply choose a replacement herself.”

“Then this only happens...” Rarity considered softly, and Fancy nodded.

“If there is no princess to speak of.” He finished.

“By the power vested in me by the royalty of Canterlot,” Long Winded, the elected Prime Minister of Canterlot, said in his most somber voice, “and in the presence and unanimous agreement of the population of the Parliament of Equestria, I do declare thee, Luna, Princess. Let all in this great land recognize the sovereign ruler of Equestria.”

There was a sudden, tremendous flash of light that radiated upward from the crown on Luna's head. The magic rippled outward in a wave that distorted the air in a prism of energy and washed over the assembled host in a wave of warmth that made Rarity gasp. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much the presence of Princess Celestia could inspire a pony. Celestia was absent, but a new princess, whole in title and power, stood in her place. Princess Luna had assumed her full height, transformed into the body formerly known as Nightmare Moon. Instead of the helm of the Night Mare on her head, she wore the crown of Equestria, tall and pointed as Celestia's had been. Her body radiated a comforting force of moonlit solitude, as Celestia's had always embraced Rarity with warmth and companionship. The feelings were different, but equally pleasant, and for the first time she could look up at the imposing figure of Nightmare Moon's silhouette and smile.

Princess Luna had taken the throne.

Rarity hadn't noticed when the applause had started, but Luna brought it to a close with a swift clop of her hoof on the floor. “I wish I had the liberty of enjoying the welcome,” she said softly, “but there isn't time.”

She turned from the now silent parliament and descended from the dais to meet Rarity and Rainbow, who waited at the bottom.

“Rainbow Dash,” she said, and Rainbow descended to her knees. Luna ushered her back up with a wing. “All in Equestria will have felt the transfer in sovereign authority, but the simple act of me being here won't inform everypony of our current situation. For that, I need a messenger. I need the fastest wings in Equestria to travel as far as they can, as quick as they can, and bring all who can lift their hooves in war to the front lines.”

Rainbow looked up in awe, her wings trembling at the opportunity.

“The call to arms has ever been entrusted to the Wonderbolts, Rainbow,” Princess Luna said, “there's a reason they value speed above all else. I've already sent Fancy to collect them, but they're going to need help. Between reuniting the Pegasus Guard and sending word to every major city in Equestria, they're shorthooved.”

“You want me… to join the WONDERBOLTS?” Rainbow asked, her voice cracking in excitement.

“I thought you might do me a special courtesy instead,” Princess Luna replied, and Rainbow panted and nodded her head without question. “Long, long ago, there was another team of champion fliers in Equestria. They haven't existed for centuries, but in their time, they were every bit as renowned and respected as the Wonderbolts were. And what's more, they were mine.”

The Princess lifted one hoof, clad in a cold, elegant silver, and placed it on Rainbow's head. Swirls of violet and deep hues of blue raced around her body in a spiral that hugged her every curve and left fabric in its wake. When they had dissipated, the pegasus stood clad in a uniform of deep purple, with brilliant yellow lightning trim and a midnight black hood. Golden goggles lay draped around her neck, and she looked up at the Princess in in speechless surprise. Luna smiled at her, and leaned down so speak at her height.

“I've made this offer to you before,” she said, “but it was under very different circumstances, and I was a very different pony. You wisely refused.” Rainbow blushed a little as Luna continued. “Now, I'm asking you to reconsider. Rainbow Dash, I would have you be the first of the new generation of Shadowbolts. Do you accept?”

Rainbow had to bite her lip to avoid letting out a flood of unintelligible babbling, and her wings twitched frantically as she struggled to figure out the best way to express her gratitude. Rarity smiled big and bumped the pegasus with her hip. “She accepts,” the unicorn said. Rainbow saluted with a snap and vigorous nodding. Luna smiled, but it faded after a moment. Time was more a factor now than it had been. With a new princess in place, the Lords of the Sea might see fit to step up their deadline.

The door to the outside cracked open on ancient hinges, and the darkened streets of Canterlot came into view. The sound of heavy hooves accompanied the approach of Captain Midnight and his personal guard, flanked on both sides by Spitfire and Soarin of the Wonderbolts, presumably the only members not already deployed. When the Captain arrived at Princess Luna's feet, he bowed low. Luna lifted a brow at him when he stood, and he assumed an attentive stance.

“Our service is, as it has always been, to the throne,” he said simply.

Luna was quiet for a moment while she considered, but ultimately nodded. “I shall withhold doubt on your commitment then, Captain. Wonderbolts,” Luna called, and the two pegasus ponies stepped forward and bowed.

The princess nodded toward Rainbow, who waved nervously. Recognition passed over Spitfire's face and, after a bit of a delay, Soarin's. He'd been face deep in pie the last time he'd seen the rainbow maned mare. Recognition of the uniform came shortly thereafter, and to Rainbow's shock, both Wonderbolts saluted her. She returned it nervously.

“Rainbow Dash now leads the Shadowbolts,” Luna said firmly, “and is reporting to the Princess directly. The three of you need to make way toward the griffins and spread word to the non-pony races of Equestria of the upcoming threat. When you've done all you can, report to the front.”

“Princess,” Spitfire said tentatively, “we don't have any sort of official rapport with the griffins. They're notoriously stubborn, if we don't have some sort of leverage, they may just blow us off.”

“I do,” Rainbow said, finding her voice for the first time. The Wonderbolts looked at her curiously. “I went to flight camp with the chief's daughter, we were uh… friends.” Rarity knew there was a second half to that story, but didn't mention it. It was going to be hard enough for Rainbow already, some things were more important than previously bruised feelings.

“That's all the leverage you're going to get,” Luna said. “We can't spare anything more. Follow Rainbow's lead.” The Wonderbolts nodded obediently, and Rainbow's eyes widened a bit.

“My lead?” she whimpered, and Rarity nudged her.

“Make it count,” the unicorn told her, and pushed her gently until she realized she should walk forward and join them. Luna turned back toward Rarity and took a breath, before casting another look around the room. She looked as though she were preparing for something.

“Princess?” Rarity asked. “Are you alright?”

Luna smiled and nodded. “Fine, Rarity, fine. It’s just funny what life brings you. I've wondered what it would be like to stand in my sister's place for over a thousand years. Now the moment has come, and the best thing I can do for my ponies is to give it up.” Rarity blinked in confusion, and Luna leaned in. “I'll be needing command over Equestia's military once the transfer is over. We can't let fine print waste anymore time.”

“Transfer?” Rarity asked in confusion. She internally fretted that she'd missed something, but the Princess's explanation followed shortly.

“I am needed on the front lines, Rarity,” she said. “With the exception of my sister I am the most experienced combatant in Equestria, and among the most powerful ponies in the world. And more than that,” she chewed her lip, “this is my fault. I cannot stand idly by. But Equestria needs a princess they can see on the throne and speak to, a face they can look toward for security. My sister's reign has left peace in this land for a very, very long time. There are a lot of frightened ponies out there. With no sunlight and no Celestia, my face isn't the one they want to see. They need somepony a little… warmer.” she smiled a small, almost apologetic smile. “So I'm giving them you.”

Rarity's breath caught in her throat. “M… Me? You don't mean-”

“I do,” Luna replied, and her horn began to radiate magical energy. “As sovereign ruler of Equestria, and in the presence of these witnesses, I hereby name Rarity, guardian of the Element of Generosity, as my successor to the throne.”

There was a flash of prismatic light, and Rarity's hair lifted gently off her shoulders, held aloft by forces unseen but for a soft, golden aura. She looked up at Luna, who gave her one last smile, before stepping backward.

“And I relinquish my title as Princess.”

Luna's crown erupted in light that shot upward like a pillar, arched, and descended over Rarity like a waterfall of luminescence. The unicorn's white body shone brilliant gold, and Rainbow, who was shielding her eyes, could barely make out her limbs lengthening and her body extending. Rarity's horn lengthened proportionately, and a ripple of royal energy much like the one that emanated from Luna earlier extended from her body. When it cleared, Rarity stood transformed, with a body and posture akin to Celestia's, and the Mare in the Moon's. Atop her head sat a gleaming golden crown, and her hooves were adorned in similar metallic to Celestia's. Her purple hair had lengthened and now hung in a one long, elegant curve rather than its usual series of curls, and gave her shape a continuous, flowing movement in its aesthetic. Around her neck sat a large golden necklace as it had sat on Celestia's, but held in the middle was an object Rarity found of particular familiarity, and was almost as much a shock to her as the transformation itself.

“The Element of Generosity...” Rarity breathed, looking down, before turning to view the rest of herself. “Oh… my goodness...” she swallowed, “I'm a princess. I'm actually a princess. I'm Princess of Equestria...” she turned a slow circle, “and my ass is amazing!” She held back her laughter for fear it would break into hysterics from the sheer intensity of it all. “Take that, Applejack.”

Luna had retained her height, but now bore the smooth, familiar crest of Nightmare Moon on her head. She smiled in amusement and cleared her throat. Rarity eeped and turned to face her. It was so strange to be at eye level with a being most ponies took to be some form of god, stranger still to look down on Rainbow, who she'd been at eye level with since they'd met. She smirked at the blue mare's reaction, and lifted an eyebrow at her. Spitfire glanced over to Rainbow beside her and coughed.

“Erm… Rainbow,” she whispered, “wings down, hun.”

Rainbow blushed hard and snapped her wings to her side, and was spared further scrutiny as Luna stepped forward and gave a courteous bow.

“Princess,” she said, “the army.”

Rarity eeped and cleared her throat. “YES, UM, THE ARMY SHALL-”

“Easy on the Royal Canterlot Voice, Princess,” Luna cautioned, smiling at the irony.

Rarity giggled. “Sorry, I just always wanted to try that. Um, so I just… right.” She turned to face Midnight and brought herself to her full height, which was now considerable. “I hereby name Luna as Supreme Commander of Equestria's military. All branches will answer to her authority.”

“As commanded, my princess.” Midnight responded, and took to a knee with the rest of his attache.

Luna nodded, and stepped close to Rarity so they could speak privately. “Your ponies need you,” she said, “I apologize for this, Rarity. I'm sure becoming a princess sits somewhere in every filly’s heart as a position worth wishing for, but I have landed you in one hell of a mess.” She tapped the gem on Rarity's chest. “You hold the Element of Generosity. It is as much a power alone as it is in conjunction with the other Elements. When Celestia and I first defeated Discord, Generosity was one of the Elements she took possession of. You are in fine company.”

“Company...” Rarity said, and realization caused her to look inward. “Twilight,” she said, alarm in her tone, “I can't hear Twilight anymore!”

Luna shook her head, and tapped the royal crown with her horn. “This,” she explained, “is more than a symbol of authority. It’s a tool of your post, and it protects your mind from coercion and manipulation. When you became princess, it broke your bond to Twilight. All the more reason for me to get to her quickly.”

Rarity swallowed and nodded, before whispering “Princess, I've never done-”

Luna shushed her, and smiled. “I'm not the princess,” she said softly, “you are, and you've done more than you think you have. That necklace sits over your heart for a reason, Rarity. Trust yourself. The Council of Harmony will assist you.”

Rarity could only nod as Fancy Pants and Hoity Toity stepped up beside her. Luna herself stepped away, bowed, and turned toward the Pegasus Guard and the Wonderbolts. Her glare was stone, and her voice was likewise.

“Rainbow,” she said firmly, “I'm counting on you. Go. Spread the word.”

Rainbow nodded and took off toward the door to the chilled night of Canterlot with Spitfire and Soarin in her wake.

“The rest of you, gather your forces. We make for the sea.”

Rarity watched the company depart, and swallowed. “Princess,” she heard a voice say. It took her a moment to realize it was directed at her.

“Y..Yes?” She replied to Hoity, who was indicating toward the door.

“The palace, your majesty,” he said, and she nodded, following his lead.

“Bit of a shock, eh?” Fancy Pants asked her as they exited the Parliament building. Rarity laughed with a voice indicative of slight hysteria.

“A bit, yes,” she replied when she could compose herself.

“Is there anything you'd like to know before we arrive?” Fancy asked.

The simplicity of the question was ridiculous in and of itself. Anything she'd like to know? Encyclopedias could be written on all the things Rarity was unclear about at the moment. She didn't even know where to begin. How did ponies know she was the real princess? How could she ease everypony's fears about the coming fight? Should she even tell them a fight was coming? Who should she see? Who should she avoid? Where should she sit? Fancy looked at her expectantly, and she sighed, and lifted a brow at him.

“Is there really a harem?”

11. Princess Aurora

The wreckage of the wakeroller had already disappeared beneath the surface when the crew of the ship were driven to the top by the recent arrivals to the scene. Twilight had regained enough composure to return her eyes to the waves rather than focus in awe at the towering mechanical palace that now floated beside them. The other sailors on the Sunrise, however, were less aware of their surroundings. Between the sudden arrival of Princess Celestia herself on board their ship, and the surprise destruction of the wakeroller by what could only be described as a fortress on the back of a mechanical octopus, these ponies had amassed more unbelievable sea stories than most seasoned sailors would in a lifetime. It was all a bit much to take in.

Twilight recognized the wakeroller crew, largely unadorned as she and most other ponies were, but the new kelpies that circled them like sharks in the waves were clad in a vibrant coral orange and pearl white armor that resembled a more streamlined, less bulky version of the Pegasus Guard in Canterlot. Pegasus guards carried no obvious weaponry; their armored hooves were threat enough. Twilight knew from her days at the palace that the thick, heavy boots the guards wore were more than decoration. These armored kelpies, however, had no such adornment on their flippers. Instead, each possessed a spear with a long cord tethered to it, secured to their bodies, and a hook at the top just below the point of the spear itself. Twilight could see how they might be used to subdue an assailant by sheer threat, or hooked over their flippers to pin them as she was currently witnessing, but there was a certain added viciousness to a weapon that was obviously intended to pierce rather than to bludgeon. No pony that got into a fight with the Pegasus Guard ever spoke dismissively of those armored hooves, but they also didn't get impaled by them. She breathed a little sigh of relief when the visible escapees were rounded up without blood in the water. It had been a long enough night already without watching kelpies throw spears at each other.

Celestia had stepped up beside Twilight to watch the roundup by what amounted to Kelopolis' royal authority. She bore a look of active concern, as though prepared to step in should anything get too violent. It was a testament to her restraint that she was even now looking out for the welfare of her captors. It was that restraint that had resulted in her capture to begin with; ponynapped or not, Celestia was unwilling to kill to enact her own escape. Though it had made her vulnerable, Twilight found she rather liked that aspect of her gleaming white matriarch.

Something about her was different though, Twilight had noticed. A change of feeling, something about the aura. She was still brilliant, still shone in a shining light of gold and white that made the unicorn feel warm and protected to stand nearby, but there was a lack of… something. Something that had always been there before. A glance to her head, and the answer became clear. Celestia's golden crown was missing, and so was the unseen but always felt radiance of her divine right to rule. The mighty white alicorn was princess no more.

Celestia noticed her student fixated on her forehead where her crown normally sat, and smiled. “I do hope this doesn’t mean you won't write me letters anymore, Twilight,” she said. The lightness in her voice caught Twilight by surprise, and made her smile and laugh nervously.

“Sorry, Princess, I just… it's the first time I've seen you without your crown on,” Twilight stammered in response, and Celestia cracked a small smile and nodded.

“It’s the first time I haven't worn it in well over a thousand years, little one,” she replied, looking up at her brow and smirking. “It goes with the office. You tend to forget it’s there. Until it isn't.” She winked down at the purple unicorn. “Strange how you can feel naked when you're normally naked anyway, isn't it?”

Twilight giggle tiredly and looked up at the massive palace spires. Water was still running from the various parapets and Twilight could see kelpies moving back and forth between turrets and within glass-walled rooms. Celestia had turned back toward it herself, and sighed. Twilight knew the sound, having made it herself more than once over the past eighteen hours or so. It was a sigh of resignation. The alicorn's smile had faded once again, and her vision was distant.

“Are you alright, Princess?” came Applejack's voice a moment later. She, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy had approached the two ponies from behind. Windswept had likewise joined them, but was hanging back behind the trio of land dwellers. She looked none-too-sure of Celestia's opinion of her, and chose to avoid attracting undue attention.

Celestia blinked and turned back toward them, a smile returning to her face. “Fine, girls, fine. And it is wonderful to see all of you,” she knelt down to bring herself to their level and grinned. “Equestria's heroes, yet again. That's two I owe you, ladies,” she winked, “assuming the celebration for Discord's defeat was good enough. I'm not convinced it was.”

The smaller pony's eyes lit up at her princess's good humor, but Twilight had noticed her joviality fade twice now, and could no longer ignore it. Celestia wasn’t happy to see the Palace of Kelantis floating beside them. Something about it troubled her, and she was doing her best not to drop her concern on the shoulders of her saviors. Twilight caught Windswept's eyes and nodded toward the castle with an inquisitive look, before indicating toward Celestia with a clandestine hoof. Windswept appeared to get the drift, but shook her head slowly. Whatever the story behind it was, it appeared to be a long one.

The sound of rushing water broke and alarm on the deck brought the collective attention of the ponies forward to the edge of the ship. Two plumes of water, like great geysers shooting out from the top of the ocean, had arched overhead and come down like tentacle on the deck of the Sunrise. Each oceanic tendril delivered one of the armored kelpies from the water below like an aquatic conveyer belt before retreating back into the sea from which they came. The two kelpies were clad in what Twilight could only assume were the official colors of Kelantis and adorned with smooth, streamlined helms with fin and feather motifs and swooping muzzleguards that covered their eyes completely and descended in sharp, pointed chisel shapes to either side of their mouths. The material itself must have been transparent from the inside, as the kelpies seemed to be able to see without difficulty, but their eyes were hidden from external observation. Only their mouths showed, and when they spoke, the insides of their mouths glowed with an eery bioluminescence in the same colors as their hair, which served to highlight their fangs. Windswept had never displayed any sort of bioluminescence, but Twilight had noticed her fangs as well, sharp and pointed, but only on her canines and a few other select teeth surrounding them. The rest were flat, not unlike Twilight's own. Kelpies, it would seem, were omnivorous.

“Celestia of Equestria?” one of the pair asked, as though the princess' identity required some sort of confirmation, despite her obvious physical differences. The voice was male, and Twilight noticed similar differences in stature, anatomy and muzzle shape to male land-based ponies. These two were also considerably larger than Windswept and herself, but she chalked that up to simply being large guards, rather than a trait of their gender. Big Macintosh still had them beat in the height department by no small margin.

“That's 'PRINCESS' Celestia of Equestria to you,” Pinkie Pie replied without missing a beat, and her puffy pink tail twitched in annoyance.

“Actually Pinkie,” Celestia said with an amused smile, “at the moment, it;s not.” She nodded upward toward the spot her crown once occupied, before leaning down to the pink pony. “But thank you for the support,” she whispered appreciatively.

Pinkie blinked in concern, as though unable to process Celestia as being anything other than a princess. But like all the others, she'd felt the shift in power. She was nonetheless beloved, however, and Pinkie didn't let up her glare on the two guards.

“Princess Aurora requests an audience, uh… Miss...” the other guard said, and stumbled over his words when trying to think of how to refer to the large alicorn. Twilight lifted a brow in interest. They'd listened to Pinkie Pie. Clearly they didn't consider referring to Celestia as 'Princess' to be necessary given her currently less-than-royal status, but he'd shown obvious concern about calling her anything less after Pinkie's correction. For whatever reason, they seemed to have put a fair bit of stock in the words of the so far unintroduced pink pony. “She insists that your companions come as well, as guests of the palace.”

“I don't know if I like the sound of 'insists',” Applejack said as she narrowed her eyes. The two guards were difficult to read with their own eyes covered by the sleek kelpie helms, but the glowing in their mouths seemed to have dimmed slightly. That, or their mouths had closed smaller. Both effects suggested trepidation, and made Twilight all the more curious. They hadn’t given Celestia a second thought, they even had to check to make sure she was the right pony! But Pinkie and Applejack give them a dirty look, and they balk?

“Requests,” Windswept corrected for the guards, and stepped in front of them to face Twilight and her companions, “the Princess requests your attendance in the palace, girls. It would be our honor.”

“Kelantis never 'requests' anything!” the other guard retorted sharply, but Windswept wheeled on him and rather abruptly smacked him across the helmet with a flipper, which rang out with a metallic ping. The first guard grit his teeth, but was unable to meet Windswept's gaze when she lifted a brow at him, inviting comment.

“You've done enough speaking for the Princess today,” Windswept said firmly. “Shut your mouths and get a bridge down here. These ponies have had a very long night.”

Reluctantly, but promptly, both guards nodded and leaped overboard back into the ocean, disappearing into the depths within a few seconds. Twilight could make out some of the glowing mouths of the other guards down there, milling around the massive structure that was the Kelantis palace. She looked back up to Windswept and raise an incredulous brow of her own. “You can give orders to royal guards?” she asked.

Windswept coughed, and twitched her damaged ear. “You remember how I said an eel bit my ear?” she asked quietly. Twilight nodded. “Well it was a very specific eel,” Windswept said, “and a very particular bite.”

Celestia laughed quietly, with an almost mirthful humor. Windswept winced and looked at her.

“You won't tell her I called her that, will you?” she asked worriedly. The alicorn grinned, but didn't reply.

The sound of waterfalls marked the arrival of one of the palaces mighty mechanical tentacles, which extended to the ship and formed a bridge between it and one of the large, ornate doorways high above them. Windswept walked toward it, before looking back and nodding her head, to indicate it was safe to follow her.

Twilight took her position beside Celestia and the rest of her friends as they strode the damp pathway in rows of two, carefully picking their steps along the interlinking plates of opal and coral hues. Twilight and Applejack were at the front, Celestia just behind, and Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie bringing up the rear. Pinkie still wore the garb of a navy admiral, but had mercifully put her pipe away. As they walked, Applejack turned to Twilight and leaned in close, keeping their conversation private. There wasn’t much reason to hide it from Celestia or the others, but Twilight could tell the earthpony was none-too-trusting of the structure they were currently approaching.

“Twi,” she said quietly, “how in Apple Acres did you know Celestia was on board that ship?”

Twilight blinked a bit in surprise. She'd thought it obvious, hardly worth mentioning, but a moment's examination revealed to her just how large the leaps in logic she had made in the span of a few short seconds actually were. And while she was half asleep, no less. Something about that made the unicorn a little nervous, but she stuffed the feeling aside, chalking it up to the anxiety of the evening.

“It really came down to picking apart all the facts we'd picked up over the course of the evening,” Twilight replied, “particularly the circumstances behind the princess' capture, and why she wasn’t able to get away by herself.”

She closed her eyes a moment and reviewed the circumstances in her head, speaking them aloud as she walked.

“Point one,” she began, “Celestia can teleport. More than that, she can teleport huge distances. There's only one good way to hold a teleporting pony in place, and that's to not give them anywhere to go.”

Twilight was speaking louder than Applejack had been, and Windswept picked up on the conversation from up ahead. She turned and looked at them, walking backward on the tentacle with the practiced ease of somepony who'd done so many times before.

“That's how I trapped you,” she said, and Twilight nodded.

“Exactly. When Windswept grabbed me for the first time, she brought me down to the bottom of the canal before I woke up. Once I was awake, I didn't know where I was, and where it was safe to go. Without knowing where you're going to land, you can't teleport. The magic just doesn’t work that way. So whoever captured Celestia must have brought her to some place by which she had no points of reference. If it were ME, that could've been anywhere in Kelopolis. But like I said before, Celestia can transit over huge distances, all the way from Canterlot to Ponyville, for instance.”

“And she's been to Kelopolis before,” Applejack contributed.

“Right,” Twilight said. “I didn't know that, but I was reasonably sure she had been, as Windswept mentioned a somewhat extended history between her princess and ours.”

“That's among the largest understatement I've heard all day, Twilight.” Celestia commented. She'd been listening to the explanation herself, with a quiet smile on her face. Twilight felt a warmth radiate from inside her as she recognized her teacher's approval. It encouraged her to continue.

“Point two,” she continued, “was the sheer level of damage in the palace. It couldn’t have been easy to capture the Princess, and from everything I've seen of kelpie magic, it’s rather reliant on water.” She looked to Windswept for confirmation, who nodded.

“Ocean water, specifically,” Windswept replied, then thought for a moment. “Wellll, no. More like large bodies of water. We can't control the water in a glass, or the water in your body, or even the water in the clouds. But lakes, rivers, streams, natural formations like that. Really heavy rainfall, sometimes, if it’s coastal.” She made a face that expressed the difficulty of the explanation. “It’s touchy. It’s a bit like negotiating with the ocean for permission to manipulate it. You can get a lot of power out of that, but you're not creating the power like unicorns do. The power is already there, in the water. We just bring it out.”

“Like earth ponies,” Applejack said, her mood brightening at finally finding some sort of parallel between herself and the kelpie she could understand. “When we work the land and till the soil and bring out the fertility of the earth, it’s usin' the power that's already in it. We just use tools and techniques we've practiced forever.”

Windswept nodded. “Exactly,” she said, “so do we. But like you, it’s nowhere near as exact or utilitarian as unicorn magic. I'm still not exactly sure how the Lords of the Sea got inside your palace, Princess,” she said, looking up.

“They had help.” Celestia replied, her brow furrowed.

Twilight nodded. “Thats what I figured,” the unicorn said. “See, despite all the damage, there were no bodies. No major injuries, at least none so major that they couldn't be moved. Celestia has always ruled benevolently, and even when faced with her own kidnapping, she didn't want to hurt them too badly. That would go doubly so if they had a hostage, say, some unicorn they forced into teleporting them inside. Since the Lords knew Celestia's only weakness before she was submerged would be her own unwillingness to kill them, they would've had to trap her someplace where she couldn't affect a forced escape without putting a great deal of ponies at risk.”

“Like a small boat!” Pinkie chimed in, “'Cause if she just FWOOOOSH BOOM'ed her way out, and there were non-kelpies on board, they'd all drown!”

Celestia nodded. “It turns out I was wrong about that last bit,” she admitted. “I had every reason to believe they had a large collection of hostages; they certainly acted like they did. As it happened, they only had the one.” She looked up toward the palace steadily growing in their view as the slant of the tentacle increased. “I saw Aurora's kelpies pick her up. Negotiating her release will be...” she frowned in aggravation, “delightful, I'm sure.”

“There was one last bit,” Twilight said, on a roll now. “The stars. I saw the stars falling toward the horizon, the same four that helped Nightmare Moon escape. It told me how urgent the situation was.”

This little bit of information seemed to catch everypony else by complete surprise. Fluttershy scanned the sky nervously, as did Pinkie. Celestia flitted her eyes upward with practiced directness, before refocusing on Twilight. Applejack just looked shocked.

“You noticed that in the, what, two seconds you had while waitin’ for the wakeroller's door to open?” she asked.

Twilight nodded, before blinking. “Two seconds?” she asked. “I thought I was standing there for at least a minute.”

“Barely two seconds,” Fluttershy confirmed. “You're really fast on the uptake Twilight, but we've all been awake for something like twenty hours now, at least. That's really amazing. But what did it matter?”

“It meant that the star's arrival is much sooner than I thought it was,” Twilight explained, “and since the kelpies, presumably, know more about this than we do, AND had this planned out ahead of time...” she trailed off, figuring one of the other ponies would finish her train of thought. None did, and she looked at the sea of blank stares with a raised brow. “It means they were rushed, that’s all. It means they pushed this plan to the last possible minute, and the only reason they'd do that is if they really didn't have anywhere safe to keep the princess once they had her. Thus, it stood to reason that whatever ship the Lords used to capture Celestia, would be the same one they were currently holding her in, somewhere in the ocean where she couldn't get her bearings and teleport away.” She nodded. “‘If you remove the impossible, the remainder, however improbable, must be the truth,’” she quoted proudly. The silence of her companions made her look nervously back and forth. “Fetlock Holmes? Anypony? C'mon, its a book-”

“Twilight,” Applejack interrupted, “right now, I'm so tired I can barely remember my own name, and you figured all that out in a few seconds, right in time to use it?” She snorted, genuinely impressed. “There's bein’ smart, and there's just plain scary, Twi.”

Twilight swallowed, and the memory of her run through the wakeroller floated to her head. Of her need to get through the large, reinforced cargo bay door that blocked Celestia. Of the white hot magical haze that had floated through her eyes when she'd blown it off its hinges like so many twigs in a storm. Somewhere inside her, she knew, the Element of Magic was still hidden just out of sight.

“I might've had a little help,” she said, more to herself than anypony else.

“There they are,” Celestia said suddenly, and pointed out toward the distance. Twilight turned to look, as did the others, and spied four points of light on the horizon, rising upward. They were far brighter than before, and seemed to be moving in formation. Celestia snorted. “Second pass,” she said. “They'll make four before they actually land.” She turned toward Twilight's curious eyes. “My capturers were courteous to explain why I was being held,” Celestia explained.

Windswept erped and stepped in. “Princess Celestia,” she said quickly, “I've gone through considerable effort to try and explain the situation in a far less… uh… illegal… fashion, on behalf of the-”

“I'm aware, child,” Celestia replied. “Nonetheless, had Aurora not been busy playing political games, she could've come to me herself and we'd have a great deal more time to prepare for this.”

“Aurora apologizes for not being instilled with the divine right to rule, Princess,” Windswept replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “She knows doing things without it is a mighty inconvenience.”

Celestia raised a brow, and leaned toward the kelpie. Windswept swallowed. “She told you to say that, didn't she,” Celestia said, more a statement than a question. Windswept nodded nervously, and the alicorn snorted. “I figured as much.”

“Um, girls, uh,” Fluttershy spoke up, and pointed forward, “I think we're here.”

Twilight turned her attention back toward the path, and gazed upward at a mighty set of double doors that were slowly opening, water dripping in streams from its edges. It was all beautifully sculpted, and even Celestia smiled a little.

“She really has improved it,” she admitted to herself.

“Improved?” Pinkie Pie asked, “It didn't always look like this?”

Celestia shook her head. “Aurora has had possession of this palace for well over a thousand years,” she said. “But before her, it had a different owner. You've met him, in fact.” Her smile faded. “Discord. And he called it the Kraken.”

“We call it Kelantis,” Windswept said, doing her best to come to the aid of her princess' reputation in front of her new friends, “and it’s been a beacon of hope for kelpies for generations.”

She looked troubled, like she wanted desperately to support Aurora under Celestia's disparaging gaze, but couldn't find the means to. Celestia closed her eyes and sighed softly, before smiling at the kelpie.

“My strife with your princess is very old, and very personal, little Windswept,” she said softly, “and has nothing to do with you or your race. I know she's helped you, and I owe you a great deal of thanks. You lead Twilight and her friends down the path to my rescue. I'll make certain you're rewarded for that, when this is through.” She stepped back a little and smiled down at the kelpie, who's lip trembled slightly. Windswept was every bit as tired as the rest of them, and no less worried. Celestia could see that in everypony, and spread her wings wide, pulling them all in close.

“Hush now,” she said with a warm smile, “quiet now.”

A gentle golden glow enveloped the collection of ponies held in Celestia's wings, spawned from her horn, and each could feel the invigorating rays of the morning sun seep into their fur. Life returned to the tired eyes of each pony, and strength seeped into their heavy limbs. When she stepped her hoof down, Twilight blinked rapidly, and her eyes widened excitedly.

“Wah… I feel fantastic!” Applejack exclaimed, and Pinkie hopped in circles beside her. Windswept joined in, and within seconds both girls were engaged in an impromptu dance of celebration.

“It’s like I've had a full night's sleep,” Fluttershy said, shock in her voice, and Twilight smiled up at the tall alicorn.

“Thank you, Celestia,” she said, relieved to be free of the burden of exhaustion on top of her already mounting stress.

“I would not have you face what's coming ill-prepared, Twilight.,” she replied firmly, as though committing to a promise. “You're safe here, for now. Windswept,” she looked at the green-blue kelpie and nodded down the hall, “take these girls to rooms, let them get washed up and unwound. I know my way to the throne room well enough.”

Windswept erped and held up a flipper. “But… I should really escort-”

“I know the way.” Celestia said, ending the conversation, and turned down the hall, striding off with her head high and her gaze even. Windswept bit her lip.

“Should we go with her?” Twilight asked the others, and Windswept shook her head.

“I don't think any of us want to be where she's heading.” Windswept replied softly.

The entryway to the throne room didn't have a door. Much like Canterlot's, it simply existed, a floor on its own. Guard kelpies like the ones outside stood sentry at the various hallways, but none stopped Celestia from approaching the inner chambers, which were more walled off than Celestia's own open reception room. Aurora didn't like having more space around her than she could keep an eye on at any one time. The large white alicorn rounded the bend of one of the ornate pillars extending clear up to the large, domed glass ceiling, and stood at the entrance, gazing upward at room she hadn't set hoof inside in a very, very long time.

“Well well,” came a voice from the top of the coral stairway. It was smooth and feminine, but pitched low with authority and a subdued, restrained power. “Celestia of Equestria, in my throne room. I never thought I'd see the day.”

“Falling Stars or not, Aurora,” Celestia replied firmly, “if one tentacle of this abomination crosses Equestrian borders, I will correct an eon-old mistake and leave the whole thing in ruins at the bottom of the ocean.”

The air in front of Celestia wavered and distorted, as though it had been sliced with a knife edge, and Princess Aurora's shape slipped through the crack like a serpent out of its hole. The analogy was accurate in both shape and movement. Princess Aurora was kelpie-shaped, in the same way Celestia was pony-shaped, but while the length of the kelpie body was offset by the width of their rear fin, which could curl to allow them to walk with more or less the same size and stature of a normal pony, Aurora's body was long and serpentine, and she moved about the floor like a snake, with her forebody held upright and her long flippers serving as hands and arms. She coloration was a vibrant coral-orange atop a deep, vivid maroon, and her hair a long, very pale pink. Blue eyes peered hard at Celestia from below a golden crown, and the kelpie princess' movements spoke at once of elegance and beauty and lightning-fast, predatory viciousness. Pink tinged, searing white bioluminescence shown from her mouth as she spoke.

“Threats, Celestia? So soon?” she asked, a cold edge to her words.

“Promises.” Celestia replied without missing a beat. “You're becoming disturbingly adept at the use of Discord's magic, Aurora.” She was looking at the golden staff the kelpie princess was holding, which was a long, sharp spear not unlike those held by the guards, but with a coiled serpent sculpted at the top, rimmed by fins.

Aurora narrowed her eyes, and lifted the long polearm. It retracted within itself, becoming a shorter, less vicious looking scepter. “Ihe Chaosium is mine by right, Celestia,” she replied, looking at the staff she held. “I'm not going to hide it in a closet and pretend it doesn’t exist. I'm not a unicorn, I've little else to fall back on.”

“You could try good will,” Celestia suggested helpfully. “You know, benevolence? It’s worked reasonably well for me.”

“Is that what Equestria defines 'forced servitude' as now?” Aurora jousted back. “Benevolence? I should compare notes with Luna, I'm fairly sure we both define it as slavery.”

“Equestria does not have slaves.” Celestia hissed.

“No, just a population of obedient sheep who never think twice about the nature of Big Sexy sitting on the throne, eh?” Aurora asked, pressing her temporary advantage. “Celestia-who-can-do-no-wrong? If any one of them knew how much you've kept secret from them-”

“Then they'd jump in a boat and blow your kelpies straight to the depths,” Celestia countered, “long before any of them would think to come after me. Or have you forgotten just why some secrets are kept?”

Aurora didn't seem to have an answer for that one prepped and ready for deployment, and for a moment both princesses stood with their noses not an inch from each other, and their eyes locked.

“This,” Celestia said finally, in a softer tone, “is a very old argument, Aurora.”

Aurora was silent a moment longer, before her tone too softened slightly, and she nodded. “It is,” she admitted, and snorted, before turning away from the alicorn and slithering like a naga smoothly across the floor in a circle. “I have your traitor in custody. She is unharmed. Says her name is 'Trixie.' Mean anything to you?”

Celestia shook her head. “Can't say I've met her. Blue, yes? Unicorn with a wand and a star cutie mark? She was the one who teleported the Lords of the Sea inside my walls.”

“That’s the one,” Aurora replied. “We captured her in our waters, you know. In an enemy ship.”

She raised a brow toward Celestia, gauging her reaction. Cold fury graced the alicorn's face at the implications of the statement. It made Aurora grin.

“But why tell you, eh?” she asked, “you're not even Princess anymore. I'll drop her off in bonds at Mustang Marina, and your new princess can deal with her. Not our problem.”

Celestia breathed a slow sigh of relief. “Thank you, Aurora.”

The kelpie princess waved a flipper dismissively. “I have bigger problems to fret than your lost ponies, Celestia. Not every transgression needs to end in an execution, you know. You seem to think we do a lot of that around here. We don't.”

Celestia bit off her own reply and remained silent. It was difficult enough to play nice with Aurora; she didn't want their tendency to bicker to blow a hole in any charity she may be extending.

“It was odd,” the kelpie princess continued, turning back toward Celestia with a boggled look on her face. “Preliminary interrogations of the crew have suggested that they picked up this ‘Trixie’ girl because she was called by not once, but several, sources, as the most powerful unicorn in Equestria.” She lifted a brow at the alicorn. “You think they would've gone after the Firemare if that's what they wanted.”

Celestia smiled inwardly. “Twilight is a little less… public… about her talents,” she said. “Outside of Ponyville there aren't many who'd recognize her.”

“It is criminal,” Aurora said sternly, “how little credit that girl has been given, Celestia.”

“Her anonymity has kept her safe,” Celestia replied, “as I intended it to. Sometimes having a few, very specific ponies who know what you've done is better than having a great deal of them who have only heard stories. Quality over quantity.”

“Does Twilight agree with that?” Aurora asked dubiously.

“Does Windswept?” Celestia countered.

Again, Aurora was left without a retort.

“Tell me about the Starfall, Aurora,” Celestia said, bringing the conversation back to a matter of relevance. “How much time?”

Aurora's staff extended in her flippered grip, and she twirled it before pointing it at the open space in front of her. An illuminated map formed magically in front of them, and Celestia stepped up beside the other mare to examine it.

“Three more orbits,” Aurora explained, pointing out a few lines that transversed the map. “Right now we're assuming they're going to land equally spaced in cardinal directions, with one here in kelpie water, not far from Kelopolis itself, and another here, just outside Equestria toward the east.”

“Just south of the Dragon Lands,” Celestia said.

Aurora nodded. “If you can get their aid, and the Griffins, you've got a chance over there. Assuming you help them personally.”

“Luna is closer,” Celestia corrected, pointing toward Canterlot, “I could send her.”

“Luna isn't in Canterlot,” Aurora said, giving Celestia a puzzled look.

The white alicorn blinked. “She’s not?”

“No,” Aurora replied, and tapped the Mustang Marina, “she's here, rallying the navy. My watchers saw her arrive not ten minutes ago.”

“Then who's on the throne?!” Celestia demanded.

Aurora affected a shrug. “No idea. I don't have spies in Canterlot, Celestia. I would ask the Firemare. According to Windy, she's remarkably well connected as of late. Something to do with the absorption of the Element of Magic.”

“Absorption...” Celestia whispered but was brought back to the map by Aurora's gesturing.

“Luna's activity suggests she's coming here, probably with everything Canterlot has. As I imagine that will be the only backup I can count on from Equestria, it will fall to the kelpies and the Canterlot Navy to repel the Star landing in the ocean, with Luna and I at the helm.” She sighed a little. “I won't lie. I wish we had more.”

“You do,” Celestia said, settling on a decision. “I'm going to leave Twilight and her friends with you. They control the Elements of Harmony, and are no slouches themselves in a crisis.”

“There are six Elements of Harmony,” Aurora reminded her. “Four aren't going to help much.”

“I need to speak with Twilight,” Celestia said, “but if what you said is correct, then the Element of Magic is hidden again. When it's re-sparked, its going to need an outlet. Last time, it focused enough power to break the spell of Nightmare Moon.”

Aurora slowly smiled. “Thats delightfully devious, Celly. I'm impressed.”

Celestia snorted, but didn't respond. Instead, she pointed toward the second star. “I'll redirect the Pegasus Guard toward here to provide support for the griffins, and go visit the dragons myself.”

“You'll be arriving late to the party,” Aurora warned her, “and thats assuming negotiations with the dragons go well.”

“They'll go well.” Celestia said firmly. “We will hold.”

Aurora nodded. “That leaves north and south. The northern star will land in the Everfree Wilds, and theres not alot we can do about it.”

Celestia shook her head, “Not really, but we may not have to. The southern star will land in the sphinx's desert. They'll handle it themselves.”

“I feel like we should warn them...” Aurora muttered.

“Feel free,” Celestia replied, “but I'll bet you they've known for months, and didn't bother telling us. They're sphinxes. They can handle it their way, I say we let them. If we handle the other two, the final one will probably withdraw on its own accord. Nightmare Moon promised these things a world of darkness already trampled under her hooves.” She narrowed her eyes. “They're going to find a world of fire. Once they no longer have numbers on their side, I don't think the last one will press the advance.”

“It works,” Aurora said, pondering, “but it leaves zero room for error. If any one front falls, the fourth star can reinforce it, and we'll be stuck fighting two instead of one.”

“No front will fall.” Celestia said, flaring her nostrils.

Aurora cracked a sly smile. “Just like old times, hmm?” she asked.

Celestia frowned. “Disturbingly so,” she replied, and turned for the hall. “I'm going to explain the plan to Twilight, then I have a long flight ahead of me. Find Luna as quickly as you can and get her ready. Things are going to heat up quickly here, Aurora.” She stopped before rounding the corner, and turned back at the kelpie princess, who was leaning against the sinister edge of Discord's ancient staff. “Can I count on you, Aurora?” she asked.

“No,” the vibrant red and orange kelpie replied, “but my kelpies can. I won't let them down.”

“That will have to do,” Celestia replied with a sigh. “I need a favor.”

Aurora lifted a brow, but said nothing. Celestia continued.

“‘When the five Elements of Harmony are present, a spark will cause the sixth to be revealed,’” she quoted. “That’s what I wrote in the Elements of Harmony Reference I created years ago in preparation for Nightmare Moon's second coming. But now that all the Elements have been claimed, they don't all need to be in the same place to be in the same heart. Friendship goes a long way toward shortening physical distances from one another. The Element of Magic is the fulcrum of that magical arrangement. It’s the balance point by which the Elements can be leveraged toward a certain end. The spark determines the shape of the Element, and the way it’s focused. When Twilight was sparked the first time, the Element became a means of removing a threat without destroying it. Since then, it's expunged Nightmare Moon while saving my sister, and defeated Discord by sealing him in stone. But now, it sounds like it’s hidden again.”

“What are you getting at?” Aurora asked, and Celestia sighed and looked up at the glass ceiling.

“I had years to arrange the steps to lead to that spark, Aurora. I placed the right books in the right library, I made sure she knew the legends, I even directed the grandmother of the Element of Honesty to Ponyville to make sure the right sort of pony would BE there at the right time to fill the right roll. Centuries of careful planning to save my sister. But now, I have minutes, and when the time comes I won't even be here to help.” She looked back toward Aurora. “So it comes to you. I need you to spark the Element of Magic. I need you to find a way to light the Firemare.”

Aurora's face split into a small, sly smile. She nodded once.

“Count on the sea ponies, Celestia.”

12. The Exposition of Harmony

( want more of the Synchronicity canon? storiesfromthefront.tumblr.com . Careful! not safe for woonas.)

“Wow, Windswept,” Twilight commented at yet another set of palace guards dropping into a bow as she, the kelpie, Applejack and Pinkie Pie walked down the halls of the palace of Kelantis with Fluttershy doing her best to stay out of the sight of the ever-shocked palace staff. “You really seem to pull a lot of weight around here.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie added. “When Twilight walks through the palace back home she's lucky to not have all the guards make fun of her the whole time!”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” Twilight grumbled, “I'm sure she needed to know that.”

Windswept herself was grinning tightly as they rounded another corner under the opal buttressed ceilings and another set of patrolling guards saw them, double-taked, and dropped their heads low. It had been the same from every set beyond the initial two who encountered them on the Sunrise, both of whom, Twilight had noticed, had reacted with surprising concern when Pinkie Pie had given them lip. She gave the other girls, particularly Twilight, a look that spoke of amusement.

“You really don't know, do you?” she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice. The others blinked absently at her. “They're not bowing to me, Twilight. They're bowing to you.” She grinned big, “Most of the guards here hate me, Twilly. I'm 'trouble'.”

Twilight was taken aback. “M-Me? Why in Equestria-” she paused for a moment before correcting her statement. “I guess we're not in Equestria. Well that makes it even stranger! Why anywhere would anypony...”

She had glanced behind her as she spoke, to check on the reactions of the other girls, and noticed a pair of palace staff peering at them from behind the corner they'd just rounded. They had expressions of shock and amazement on their faces, and nearly panicked upon being noticed, dipping into rapid bowing before taking off as fast as their kelpie fins could move them.

“Not just you,” Windswept corrected, “all four of you. But uh,” she chuckled and nudged Twilight, “mostly you.”

“But… why?” Applejack restated Twilight's question, now just as perplexed herself. “I mean, I'm pretty well known 'round the rodeo circuit back home but I'm just as lost as any needle in a haystack in a crowd in Canterlot. Why do a bunch of kelpies care who I am?”

“Is it just the palace staff?” Twilight guessed. “Did your princess tell them we were coming?”

“Maybe that’s it!” Pinkie offered excitedly. “It’s cause we've got legs! They've probably never seen leggy ponies befo-” her own statement was interrupted by a gasp of realization, “They've probably never seen DANCING before! Oh MAN! We could throw the greatest dance party this place has ever-”

“Pinkie,” Windswept cut her off, a look of panic gracing her face, “no dancing. Please no dancing. I'm working real hard to show kelpies the advantages of associating with land ponies. If you dance they'll never be able to take you seriously again. I just about died laughing when I first saw land ponies dancing.”

“Hey now,” Applejack protested, “we dance just fine.”

“Right,” Windswept replied with a snicker, “just about as well as you swim.”

“I think it’s a cultural thing, Applejack,” Twilight said, not so quick to raise her ire as her friend was. “Kelpies probably do all their dancing underwater and wouldn’t think of doing it on land. We'd probably look pretty silly trying to dance while submerged, and I guess what we do above the water they just don't interpret as a dance.”

Windswept nodded, “I was legitimately concerned for your mental health when you first-”

“I get it,” Twilight said firmly. “So if it’s not because we've got legs, why does half your palace seem to drop to their fins when they see us coming?”

“Not half the palace,” Windswept replied, “I imagine the vast majority of Kelopolis would do the same thing. There's probably not a kelpie alive who hasn’t heard of Twilight Sparkle and her companions,” she beamed. “You're national heroes.”

Windswept's statement was met by a sea of blank faces, with the exception of Pinkie, who was glaring at her suspiciously. Windswept worried her lip with her teeth and nodded down the hall.

“C'mere,” she said, “I want to show you something.”

Two hallways later, Windswept turned left, and brought her group into a massive foyer that contained within it a collection of statues all formed together to complete a single sculpted scene of six beautiful ponies trapped forever in time, and cast some three times their actual size.

“By Celestia...” Applejack breathed as she stared upward at the gleaming brass replica of her flank, set in frozen motion beside Rarity, who'd be carved out of what appeared to be marble, and Fluttershy, who hovered with wings forever outstretched, cast in brass.

“Mm-m-m-me?” Fluttershy stammered, a blush flooding her face, “oh my gosh, I'm… huge!”

“It’s a great view from the back,” Windswept teased, and Fluttershy's face grew redder.

Rainbow Dash had been sculpted out of turquoise, with lines smooth enough to trace the path of the wind over her wings, and pink granite Pinkie Pie was near the front with forelegs outstretched toward the sky. The real pink pony mimicked the pose for a moment, and the very action of it caused hushed gasps and whispers to emerge from the kelpies who were making their way through the halls about their business. Each would bow whenever one of the still boggled land ponies caught their eyes.

“Yours was always my favorite,” Windswept commented to Twilight.

The purple unicorn was staring up at her rendition with mouth agape. It was sculpted of the finest silver, so polished that she could see her own reflection in it far below, like some filly trying to live up to the silhouette of her hero. Her mane was rendered as a wreath of flames that extended upward off her body, and her eyes were fierce, and purest white, cast with some sort of opal in the sockets. Were it not for the cutie mark emblazoned on her flank, she wouldn't have recognized herself.

“‘The Living Flame’,” Pinkie Pie read softly, and Twilight blinked and looked down at the golden plaque inlaid in the floor.

“Our name for the Element of Magic,” Windswept clarified. “You might also hear some ponies calling Twilight 'The Firemare,’ but that's sort of a specific name for her, rather than the office she keeps. All the Elements have names, you know.”

Windswept could tell by the stunned looks at the statue that the whole situation was boggling them a bit. “We don't even have something like this in Canterlot,” Fluttershy said breathlessly, “and Princess Celestia gave us medals there.”

Windswept thought for a moment. “It’s difficult to find a place to begin,” she said finally. “You ponies are… extremely important to us. You six, specifically, not land ponies in general. By and large, Kelopolis could care less what Equestria is up to, but you six,” she nodded, “you're special. In Equestria, you've had a great, big, loooong history of expansion and growth and peace and prosperity, beginning from the day you all arrived there to the day Celestia took the throne and took you all by the hoof and spread you out across the land. That pilgrimage has done a lot for you as a nation, you know? It’s given you cohesion, it’s made you strong and unified, but it’s also distracted you from some of the things that have happened in your distant past that are awfully important,” she made a face of disapproval, “and your Princess hasn't helped in that matter. If Discord hadn't come back, I doubt any of you would ever have known he existed to begin with. There's not a single kelpie born that doesn't know about the Age of Discord by the time they're old enough to not swim off in fear when the story gets told.”

“You mentioned,” Twilight said, “that your princess was a result of some of his… tampering, from the first time he was here.”

“Yours too,” the kelpie replied, and held up her fins before the immediate defensive reaction could manifest. “Hang on, hang on,” she said, “I'm just telling you what we're told, and what we believe. If you disagree, take it up with Celestia. Ask her why she has the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus on the frame of an earth pony. I'd love to hear her explanation. Princess Aurora has never hidden what caused her to look and function as she does today, and she's always said she wasn’t alone in her transformation. You can take that or leave it, it doesn’t change the story.”

When she was sure she wasn’t about to get pounced on, Windswept continued.

“When Discord was here the first time, it was… misery. Not the short term, localized chaos you six stopped. I mean global, total catastrophe. He ruled with,” she searched for words, “I wouldn't even call it tyranny, because it just didn't make any sense. It was a sort of unstoppable madness that rotted the mind and perverted the land and the oceans. At that time, Equestria was still relatively new, but Kelopolis had been around for ages. Discord actually constructed this,” she indicated to the structure around her, “out of the ruins of the original palace. He animated it magically and called it the Kraken. It was his throne, the vehicle by which he traveled the world and sewed ruin. It was also where he found and transformed Aurora, who was the daughter of the legitimate rulers of Kelopolis, as a punishment for her failed attempt to overthrow him. He wanted a puppet that would last for eternity without wearing out.”

“That’s why she's immortal?” Fluttershy asked in horror, “so he could toy with her forever?”

Windswept nodded. “If it’s any consolation,” she added, “I think Celestia and Luna made themselves immortal, through some other means I'm not aware of, so that they could have time to make sure Discord was defeated, and not have to quit the fight due to, you know, age.” She gave a little smile. “Much as the kelpies would love to take credit for putting Discord in his place so long ago, that honor falls on Luna and Celestia. See, for Equestria, that was your first great victory as a nation. Military victory anyway. For us, it was like… being rescued by strangers. We were thankful of course, but it stung. Kelopolis was a mess, and it took a very long time to pick up the pieces.” The kelpie looked back at the statues and sighed. “And, of course, some mid-way through, Luna fell victim to Nightmare Moon's influence and was banished, which went an awfully long way toward fueling the animosity between Celestia and my princess.”

“It did?” Applejack asked. “Were they close?”

“Very, once,” Windswept replied. “In a way, they still are. There's a trust and understanding there that has come out of a relationship that has lasted for, quite literally, thousands of years. You don't just turn your back on something like that.” She caught Twilight's eye, and nodded, recognizing the look she saw there. “You've thought about it,” she said.

Twilight nodded slowly. “She’s going to outlive me,” the unicorn said, “by no small stretch. When I was younger I always sort of… prided myself on being the princess' personal student and friend, but as time went on I began to work out just how small I must be in the grand scheme of her eternal existence.”

“I don't think it’s quite as insignificant as all that,” Windswept spoke in support. “You're right of course, they will outlive us, they will have other students and other friends just as they have before, but they're not statues, Twilight. They have hearts,” the kelpie gazed upward at the royal motifs along the walls and seemed inwardly contemplative, “hidden though they may be, from time to time. When they pick a student, they pick a friend for life. And they know that, eventually, even if all the best luck happens, even if everything works out wonderfully, they're still going to have to sit idle while that friend leaves them for a place they may never get to themselves.”

She smiled a bit and stepped over toward the group of land ponies listening to her story.

“Aurora tells me about her previous students,” she said, with happiness in her tone, “all very different kelpies. Colts and fillies, artists and athletes and scholars. Amazing kelpies, every last one. I get to keep that knowledge; it’s one of the perks of the position, so to speak. And when she talks about them, I know they've affected her. They made marks in an eternal tapestry, and I get to add my mark to it too.”

“That sounds… terribly stressful,” Fluttershy whimpered. “I'd be worried about leaving a bad impression! I mean, we've seen how Twilight gets when she worries about messing something up for Princess Celestia...”

“All of Ponyville has seen how Twilight gets when she worries about messin’ somethin’ up for Princess Celestia,” Applejack confirmed with a small smirk.

Twilight's emerging blush grew redder and she shot her friend a glare. Windswept, however, only giggled.

“So what if you do?” she asked Fluttershy. “What makes a failure any less valuable than a success, to a being that lives forever? Do you know why Aurora picked me to be her student to begin with?” All three ponies shook their heads, which was to be expected, as it hadn't previously been explained. “It’s because I talk to myself when I'm sleeping.”

Twilight blinked. “You… huh?”

“Why would she care about-” Applejack asked incredulously, but Windswept cut her off.

“No,” the kelpie corrected, “why would you care about that? Why would I care? Why would any normal pony care? They wouldn't,” she smirked, “might even find it annoying. I've been told I say some questionable things. But she’s not a normal pony. She’s eternal, and in thousands of years of living, she'd never once met a kelpie who talked in her sleep. Not because they're rare or because she needed one, just because it hadn't happened. I was a surprise. It’s as easy as that. I was an experience she'd never had before. When you live forever, anything that makes you look twice is worth a great deal more than we little ponies might give it credit for.”

Windswept brought herself back to topic by glancing back at the statues in the middle of the room.

“The flip side is also true,” she said, “when you know you're destined to forever lose those you're close to, by virtue of simply outliving them, then things you can count on forever really become important. According to Princess Aurora, there are actually quite a number of eternal ponies littering the planet, all in various states of agreement or disagreement with each other. But as bad as it gets, even as much as Aurora and Celestia can't stand each other, there's a connection that's far too valuable to lose or give up.” The kelpie turned back to her companions to see if they'd followed along, and Twilight nodded slowly.

“Forever is an awfully long time,” the purple unicorn said, and Windswept nodded.

“They may hate each other’s guts,” she confirmed, “but I don't think we'd be able to comprehend just how much they love each other in our lifetimes. It's something only Forever will ever get to see.”

The five of them were silent for a moment, until Applejack took a nervous step forward and looked Windswept in the eye. Or at least, attempted to, but found herself staring at the floor instead, unable to hold her gaze.

“Windswept,” she said carefully, “listen, I… I owe you an apology. I've given you an awfully hard time ever since you joined up with us just ‘cause I really needed somepony to blame, and it wasn't fair of me.” She looked around the massive chamber and sighed, “But I think at this point you've pretty much pulled through on everything you ever promised us, after a fashion, and uh… well. I'm sorry. It wasn't very… 'Element of Honesty'-y of me.”

She looked up at Windswept's face, which didn't require much effort, as the kelpie was shorter than Applejack already. She was smiling. Not mockingly, but with a sort of secret understanding glinting in her eyes. She nodded toward the statue, specifically toward Applejack's gleaming golden sculpt.

“Go read that,” she said simply. Applejack parted her lips to ask why, but held her tongue, and stepped over toward the plaque.

“‘Applejack’,” she read, “‘The Steady Pulse’,” she looked back at Windswept, who's smile remained unwavering.

“Ever tried holding a seashell to your ear?” the kelpie asked.

Applejack nodded. “It sounds like the ocean,” she said, and Windswept nodded.

“Its actually the sound of your blood moving through your ears,” she said, “but down here, that pulse, that rhythm, is everything. We live and die by the tides. The ocean can be steady as a rock, or it can be tumultuous and dangerous. Sometimes it can fool you into a false sense of security, other times it can look dark and dangerous when its really smooth as glass, just past the horizon.”

“Doesn’t sound like something worth trusting,” Applejack said, still unsure where this was going, but Windswept shook her head.

“It’s the most honest thing in the world,” she responded. “Honesty isn't always about 'being easy to read', Applejack. Honesty is about being reliable. Honesty is about sticking to your guns and knowing where you stand, and protecting those you care about and being willing to be that pony that speaks up when others stay quiet. The ocean compromises for no pony. It shifts and it flows and it moves as it always has, and as it always will, since before any of us were ever here, and the blood that flows through every creature in this world shares its rhythm, and its implacable will.” Her smile split into a humored, toothy grin. “You are the Steady Pulse, Applejack. You are the pony that honestly thinks other ponies should honestly think a little harder before they honestly believe anything a seemingly honest pony says to them,” she chuckled, “and I would honestly be disappointed if you weren’t exactly what you are.”

Applejack laughed a little, and a small blush touched her face. She wasn’t used to being talked up as anything other than a rodeo pony. “Never thought anypony would thank me for bein’ a pain in the rear,” she said, and Windswept giggled.

“It is,” came Celestia's voice from the archway that lead into the chamber, “admittedly, not the sort of logic we tend to do in Equestria.” The elegant white alicorn walked on quiet hooves toward the small group, who turned to face her. She was looking up at the statues, and smiling. “I haven’t seen these,” she said, “they almost do you justice.” She winked at them. “Almost.”

“Princess,” Twilight said, but Celestia shook her head.

“Seems I'm just 'Celestia' at the moment, little one,” she said, and chuckled. “It's been a long time since I've been without a title. I think I'll enjoy it while I can.”

Twilight nodded, “Celestia, why didn't you ever tell us about… this?” she asked, nodding toward the statues, “About the names of the Elements and the kelpies and… everything! There's so much here we never knew.”

Celestia nodded, and lay down on her belly to reach eye level with the others. “And far more out there in the rest of the world outside Canterlot as well, Twilight Sparkle,” she replied, “enough to fill more books than you could ever finish reading. Which is one of the reasons, honestly. There's simply too much in the world to sit down and tell you, I wouldn't even know where to begin. As to the Elements, there's less there to tell than you think, looking from within.” She smiled at them, and nodded toward the statues. “You look over there and see stylized representations of amazing heroes with wonderful, profound names and deeply nuanced metaphors that define them and think to yourselves, 'if I'd only known'. But you did know. When I look over there, all I see are the ponies I see right here, the same I've always seen. The Elements of Harmony were kept in stones and manifest in jewelry, Twilight, but they are and have always been simply ponies. Ponies who know themselves far better than they think they do.”

She chuckled, and tapped Twilight on the head.

“Your brain is getting in the way of your heart, my student. Knowing a few names and history isn't the same as knowing the Elements themselves. The Element of Honesty, for instance, is called the Steady Pulse, but that's not what it is. It’s a pony, named Applejack, who found value in the truth and chose to live by it. No magical stone or necklace did that for her. You remember our math lessons?”

Twilight nodded silently.

“What happens when you boil away all the unnecessary information in a big, complex question?” She asked, her tone reflective of a long history of teaching.

“You're left with a simple equation,” Twilight said softly, “usually much simpler than it looked to begin with.”

Celestia smiled. “I chose to spare you the trouble of cutting through all the unnecessary information surrounding the elements of Harmony. You six took the remaining equation and solved it together. Right now, you're learning about all the things that only would have bogged you down had you known them when the Elements first fell into your hooves. This,” she pointed to the statues, “grand and astounding though it may seem, is nothing new, Twilight. You have no need to worry yourself with 'living up to' this image. This image was made in the hopes of living up to you.”

Twilight felt a weight lift from her back, and was surprised at it. She hadn't realized just how much that idea was troubling her, but it had been growing larger in larger in the back of her mind. The fear that she had somehow deceived these ponies into thinking she was something greater than she was. Celestia, as usual, had absolved her of that fear.

The alicorn stood again, and faced her little ponies with a proud smile that made each of them (save Windswept, who in light of all the personal conversation had moved awkwardly toward the back of the land ponies and was staring at a spot on the tile with undue interest) smile back at her. It was a long-awaited breath of fresh air to all of them. When her smile faded, Twilight knew the break was over, and so did everypony else.

“Now,” Celestia said firmly, “here is the plan.”

13. The Calm Before

Rainbow Dash turned a slow spiral in the air as a thick plume of purple and black clouds trailed out behind her. The ground raced by below at breakneck speed, and the pegasus grinned at the ease of it all. It was the uniform; it had made distance flying dramatically easier. Part of the job, she figured. The uniforms must have been enchanted so that the Wonderbolts - and likewise, the Shadowbolts - could arrive at whatever distant destination they needed to be and still have the energy to perform their intended task. She even felt rested, despite having not slept in quite some time. Granted, the company helped.

“And that's how I got my cutie mark,” Soarin explained, matching Rainbow's spin.

Rainbow grinned at him. “And went on to be Equestria's greatest altitude champion?” she asked.

Soarin laughed. “So I've got a record or two. I dunno if that makes me thegreatest,” he replied. “Besides, I've dived from heights most pegasus ponies don't get anywhere near, and I still didn't manage to pull off a Sonic Rainboom.”

“Yeah, that's really something, filly,” Spitfire agreed. “How did you do that? I keep meaning to sit you down and ask you, but every time we run into each other there's always something else going on.”

“You remember running into me?” Rainbow asked excitedly.

“Sure!” Soarin replied easily. “Best lookin' mare at the gala! Plus, you saved my pie.” He looked like he had to restrain to keep from salivating at the memory. “Mmm… pie.”

“Best looking mare at the gala, huh?” Spitfire asked with a tone of mock-jealousy in her voice.

Soarin snorted. “You don't count,” he replied simply, “you're Spitfire.”

Rainbow's blush was hidden by Spitfire spiraling over her and thunking the other Wonderbolt over the head with her hoof. She restrained a giggle and did her best to maintain her cool, but as practiced as her social image was, picking her words in the presence of ponies she idolized was never her strong suit.

“Oh, it’s just uh… something I figured out as a filly,” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant. It was partially true. “I'm sure you could get it with enough practice!” she added. Less true, she knew. No amount of practice had gotten her the Sonic Rainboom. There was another requirement involved, but to reveal it in front of the Wonderbolts might compromise her credibility as a champion flier, to say nothing of violating a very old promise to a very dear friend.

The trio had made considerable distance since departing Canterlot, and were now cruising low over the open plains that preceded the shores neighboring the Griffin Lands. Griffins had a continent of their own, beyond Equestria's borders, but being winged creatures they had long ago spread beyond the confines of their homeland and now had a small but stable population within Equestria itself. Griffins as far inland as Ponyville were rare, but on the eastern coastal lines there were several small towns where griffins and ponies mingled regularity, and one in particular that housed an old friend.

Rainbow sighed inwardly as she thought to herself, her slowly fading smile lost amidst the casual banter of the other two ponies. 'Friend' was a step beyond stretching. She hadn't spoken to Gilda in person in almost a year, and while she had (more or less) 'made up' with the griffin by means of letters, there had never been an apology by either party. It had boiled down to 'Those are your friends, and you can keep me out of them,' which had resulted in a relationship in which both girls could still talk to each other through literary correspondence, but had nailed the wedge between them rather firmly into place. Rainbow didn't know what to expect from Gilda one way or the other at this point. Had it not been for the grave necessity of the situation, she likely never would've taken the trip to begin with.

Having the Wonderbolts with her was a blessing, though. Gilda and Rainbow had initially bonded through a shared love of flying and pushing their own limits, and the Wonderbolts fit that bill perfectly. Griffins and pegasus ponies had a mixed bag of advantages and disadvantages when paired together in the air, but by and large both races considered themselves on an even playing field. That in mind, the Wonderbolts had repeatedly bested the cream of the griffin's crop in interspecies flight competitions, and it was not unusual for young hatchlings to have Wonderbolt posters hanging on their walls. Gilda was one such girl, and Rainbow hoped their presence would provide the icebreaker that would at least get her talking.

The knowledge that she was using her childhood idols as bargaining lubrication to try and persuade her once-best-friend to commit her father to a war wasn't lost on her though, and it did little to improve her fading mood as their destination grew closer.

“Just over that hill,” came Spitfire's voice from beside her.

Rainbow hadn't realized the other two ponies had stopped talking, and shook her head to clear the inner turmoil out of it. She didn't have the luxury of distractions anymore. The familiar determination she'd honed from race days and flight tournaments crept into her posture, and her jaw set. She nodded to the flame-maned mare beside her, and narrowed her eyes.

“Let’s do this.”

I can't DO this!

Princess Rarity thought in terror as she forced a cheerful smile to remain on her face while desperately juggling the cluster of concerned business ponies that had accumulated in front of her the moment she'd entered the palace. Representatives from every guild, corporation and trade had poured out from the woodwork as soon as they'd felt the fluctuation in power, all seeking explanation and some sort of statement as to how this would affect their business. Add to that the media, who surged in now that the Pegasus Guard had lifted the lockdown on the city and collected the first damning pictures of the fractured palace wall and the new pony who had taken Celestia's place. Who was she? Where was she from? Where were her wings? What in Equestria had happened to Celestia, and what was going to happen next?

Rarity could hear them speaking to their fellow journalists, frantically taking notes, dictating, and snapping picture after picture. It was the first time she'd been the subject of everypony's attention and wanted nothing to do with it. And all the while, out of the corners of her eyes, she could see ponies still in their homes. Fillies stared out the windows fearfully toward a darkened sky that should have been light long ago, and parents were too unsure of the safety of Canterlot to risk opening their doors. More than the frantic, never ending questions of the crowd or the harsh, judgmental flashbulbs of the press, that hurt her. They had questions too, but were too frightened to come out and ask them. And even if they did, she didn't have any answers for them.

“P-Princess… er… Celestia will be alright,” she said aloud, in response to a question directed to her by yet another unknown face in the crowd. “We're doing everything we can to get her back safely and securely-”

“Where is she?” a voice asked, “What's happened to the palace?”

“There was a bit of a, uh… a minor conflict and she was ponynapped and-”

She winced at the sudden plague of gasps that washed over the crowd. A poor choice of words, perhaps.

“But I'm sure she's going to be fine! Princess Luna is-”

“Why would Princess Luna leave you in charge is she was fit to rule herself?” came the cry of one inquisitor. There were shouts of agreement.

“Is there something wrong with Princess Luna?”

“Where are the other Elements of Harmony?”

“What caused the declaration of martial law? Why has it been lifted? Is the threat over?”

Rarity's responses were cut off within seconds whenever she tried to speak them, each time by another, more complex question from one of Canterlot's news ponies. All the while, ponies in suits and ties, clustered up front, bowed and shook her hoof, introducing themselves as representatives for pony-this or pony-that and asking if their Princess Celestia authorized transaction letterhead documentation was still valid or if they'd have to put in for replacements, and offering dozens of expertly crafted arguments for why this policy or that policy was unfair to their business and should be removed, and how eager they'd be to write a new one. As a favor, of course. Tall as she now was, Rarity felt like they were swarming about her legs like small, rabid beasts closing in for the kill. She could feel instinctual panic swelling in her chest, and was rescued mere seconds before a rather terrible first impression by Fancy Pants, who had gotten the door to the private levels of the palace open and escorted her inside, closing it in the face of the still clamoring crowd of chattering ponies and cloistering her inside.

Rarity leaned against the wall for a moment, listening to the muffled noise outside the door. It was so very different than she'd imagined it. She loved the spotlight! As a fashionista, it was her heart's joy to answer the questions of doting fans and talk for hours about her work, her opinions, and how wonderful (or horrible) this, that and the other was.

But this...

“Rarity...” Fancy said softly. Rarity shook her head slowly, muttering in a small voice.

“I don't think I can do it… I… I don't know how...”

“Rarity,” he replied in a slightly firmer voice, “Listen, you-”

“I don't know how to HELP them!” she replied suddenly, with tears welling in her eyes, “They..they all need help! They're lost, their princess is gone, everything they've ever known is missing, they don't know what they do and they're all looking to me for answers and I haven't GOT any! I'm lost too! How can I help them find what they're looking for if I'm just as lost as they are?!”

She circled in a tight, rapid pace, and her hoofbeats echoed down the hallways.

“I've only ever taken care of myself! I run MY business, I sell MY dresses, I… I can't even take care of my little sister for a week without it turning into a family emergency! I have to help them all, but I don't know how to-”

“RARITY.”

Rarity startled and looked up at Fancy, who cleared his throat and smiled.

“What is important right now?” he asked her.

She blinked. The question seemed so broad it bordered on ridiculous. “I'm… What? Important? Its’ all important! Half of Equestria's economy is wrapped up behind this door trying to figure out if they have to change their mailing addresses and-”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “forget the details dear. What is IMPORTANT, right now?”

Rarity blinked again, and realized she was panting. She took a moment to catch her breath, and tried to mimic Fancy's calm, upright stance. Important. Right now.

“The stars are falling,” she said, and looked surprised at herself. She'd forgotten. How had she forgotten that?

“Yes. And?” Fancy asked, prompting her to continue.

“And ponies in Canterlot are frightened,” she replied, her eyes scrolling across an unseen page. She could feel them. She hadn't noticed it until now, but she could feel them, scared and alone in their houses, unsure what was going on. “Not just Canterlot… everywhere. They're looking for guidance.”

“They're looking for leadership,” Fancy corrected, and smiled as he adjusted his monocle. “Darling, you've taken the title, but you haven't taken the position. These ponies all have questions, certainly. But their questions can wait. YOU have a job to do, and YOU know what matters right now. You simply need to do it.”

“But...” she considered, looking back at the door, “but how can I ask them to do things for me? Some of those ponies-”

“Rarity,” Fancy replied with a smile, “you're a princess. A princess doesn't ask. A princess commands. Don't ask them, and don't answer them. Rule them.” He winked. “There will be time for velvet gloves when the world isn't under siege by terrible alien beings.”

Rarity's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she considered. A moment later, her hoof was at the door, and she thrust it open, stepping purposefully into the light and the flashbulbs and the sudden rancorous hail of questions.

“SILENCE.”

Her command echoed off the stone walls of the fractured palace and radiated across what window's still remained in the main chamber, and every pony took several steps back and hunkered slightly in surprise and instinctual revelry. The tall, brilliant white unicorn thrust her hoof in the face of one of the closest business ponies, and she lifted a brow at him.

“Name?”

“Er… Fine Print, Princess,” he stammered, and continued with “I represent the-”

Rarity cut him off.

“How many ponies are under your employ, Fine Print?” she asked sternly.

He blinked and considered. “I'd… say just over three hundred or so, Princess.”

“Those three hundred ponies are now your personal responsibility.” Rarity said flatly. “You will assemble your employees, every last one of them, and travel to every home they live in, and find every family member they have, and ensure that ALL of them know that Canterlot is safe, secure and that there is a Princess on the throne. Her name is Rarity.”

She cast her hoof across the crowd.

“EACH OF YOU! Every business owner in this room, it is YOUR TASK to ensure the safety of your employees. Travel to their homes, make sure they're alright, collect them with you and send them to other ponies homes to do the same. Spread out, find everyone! I expect the Canterlot streets filled with ponies within the hour with the knowledge that it is SAFE to do so!”

She set her jaw, and addressed the media.

“The rest of you are coming with me. I want the Sun Dais prepped for a public address in two hours, and everypony needs to know it’s happening. If we need to go door to door to make that happen, we will.” Her expression softened a little as she looked at the seas of startled faces. “There are a lot of frightened ponies out there,” she said, “and I won't let them sit in the shadows feeling like no pony is watching out for them. I may not be Princess Celestia, but I am Princess Rarity, and MY little ponies are not afraid of the dark. Today begins in two hours, and Celestia or not, it will begin with the sunrise. I will see to it.”

When she stepped forward toward the palace door, the crowd split open to grant her passage, and the ponies to her sides dropped to their knees as she passed them. She didn't need to look back. She could feel them follow her, keeping a respectful distance, and trotting in silent reverence.

Not for the first time, Rarity realized the astounding amount of impossible work that lay before her, and found herself smiling.

“Even if I wanted to help,” Gilda snapped, “and I don't, OUR legends say the stars can't be hurt anyway! I'd be asking my dad to lead his entire army to destruction. For what? Ponies? You caused this problem to begin with! You can deal with it yourselves!”

Rainbow grit her teeth and stamped a hoof on the floor of the aerie. “You OWE us, Gilda! Call it payback for rescuing your butts from Discord! TWICE!”

The griffin blew her feathery hair out of her face with a dismissive huff. “None of us saw Discord come back, Dash. Lots of griffins don't even think it happened. Six ponies put down the lord of chaos in a couple days time? Alone? I've met your 'friends'. I could take one of them completely out of the picture by tossing her rabbit off a cliff. If it was a cupcake instead, the pink one would follow her! You're telling me-”

“You shut your beak about them,” Rainbow hissed defensively, her wings flaring in aggressive posture and fanning outward. “They've done more for me than you ever have. If you weren't so busy being a… selfish… arrogant-”

“I'M selfish and arrogant?!” the larger griffin snapped, her own wings flaring. Rainbow was keenly aware of Gilda's superior size and strength, but it seemed more of an issue now than it had been in the past. “At least I stick to my friends, Dash! Aren't you supposed to know something about that, huh? 'Loyalty'? You dropped me on my butt pretty quick when I didn't get all touchy-feely with your dweeby new crayon-box buddies!”

Rainbow blinked, and her wings drooped a little.

“Is that what this is really about?” she asked incredulously, “You're… jealous? You? The coolest cat in flight camp?”

Gilda sneered, but she didn't respond. Slowly, after a moment or two, her angry expression faded, and was replaced by one of subdued, quiet sorrow. The face of someone who'd come to terms with something a long time ago, and only just now had the chance to voice it.

“... Yes.” she said simply.

Rainbow had no immediate reply, having been knocked silent by the admission. Getting Gilda to admit to weakness was a feat of rare occurrence as it was. To admit to something like jealousy was nothing less than biblical. The golden griffin folded her wings and took a seat in the middle of the thatched floor of her tree-borne home. Aeries like this one littered the tall trees off the coastline, making a town of interlinking bridges and platforms that contained all the comforts of any other habitation: stores, a town square, a market, but all suspended above the ground. Gilda, being a griffin of some importance herself, had the largest of the residential 'nests', and had been shocked and amazed when Rainbow had arrived at her doorstep with the two most prominent members of the world's greatest aerial team. Their presence had bought Rainbow the legitimacy she needed to convince Gilda of the severity, and accuracy, of the situation. But when she'd requested help, the griffin's attitude turned sour, and she refused to continue the conversation in front of Spitfire and Soarin. Both ponies had left some time ago to patrol the surrounding area, and Rainbow was thankful they weren't here to listen to the fight that had broken out not long after their departure.

“I… didn't know.” Rainbow replied, and even she realized how weak the response felt on her lips.

Gilda snorted. “Of course not. Why would you?” She rolled her eyes and looked over at the uniformed pegasus. “Do you know where I live, Rainbow Dash?”

Rainbow's ears tucked back and she looked around her at the room they were in.

“Er...” she chanced, “here?”

“Yeees,” Gilda chided, “and where is here?”

“In a… tree?”

Gilda sighed. “In Equestria, dweeb. Land of pretty little pastel herbivore magical happy musical marshmallows. Which, you may have notice, I am not one of.” She slumped a little. “The other griffins are here to trade, or pick out new land of their own. They associate with each other socially, and chat with ponies when it’s convenient or necessary. But that's it! When they go home, they go home to griffins, in griffin houses with griffin morals and they leave all the ponies behind. But I'M here as my father's ambassador. I have to attend functions and go to camps and immerse myself in pony society every day because I'm supposed to be a good example! And you know what?”

Her face had transformed from aggressive to saddened, and Rainbow could hear her voice crack, just a little.

“I'm terrible at it, Rainbow. Just… just really bad. I don't understand ponies. I don't understand how you can't eat meat, and think I'm a dangerous, evil thing for doing it. I don't understand how you can all sing and dance and play like little kids, and still be the beings responsible for saving the world again and again and again from things our greatest warriors couldn't hope to fight. I don't know how you can have three totally different kinds of yourselves and still get along so well. I just… don't know how to be a pony.”

Rainbow hadn't heard any of this before, and found the entire admission shocking. Gilda had never mentioned it, not even in her letters. But she'd clearly thought about it, enough that she was venting it all now. The blue pegasus pony chose to stay quiet and let her talk, but moved a little closer. Fight or not, she'd always rather hoped she still had a friend in Gilda. And that friend needed a little support.

“I tried, you know,” she added after a moment, when Rainbow sat beside her. “I tried a lot. But every time something would happen that just… flew in the face of all my logic, and I got mad at it. The way you all behave, your society, your values, they don't make any sense by our standards. The only things we have in common, REALLY in common, are money and competition. So we trade with you, and we talk business, and we play sports. And when they're over, we leave. Except me. I go to camps and towns and piss ponies off because I'm not pony enough for them.”

“You were pony enough for me,” Rainbow offered.

Gilda chuckled. “You made sense,” she said. “You were the only pony I'd ever met that did. You didn't care about all the magic or how I ate or dancing and singing, you just cared about flying. You wanted to race and soar and do the things that we like to do. I… pinned a lot of hope on you. I thought you were the bridge I was looking for. You could be my friend, and through you I could do what I was supposed to do.” She shook her head slowly, and looked out of the window at nothing in particular. “You were the only pony friend I had. That was valuable in and of itself. But more than that, it made you special to me. I think I got a little over-attached.”

“But...” Rainbow chanced, “When I tried to introduce you to Pinkie, you-”

Gilda grunted. “That cotton candy creampuff? She's everything I can't figure out about you ponies. Shes the DEFINITION of what I can't wrap my head around. And, more than that...” she dragged a claw idly across the floor, “she was cutting into my time with you. I think, seeing you with her, I got it into my head that she was turning you into a pony, when I'd always seen you as something more like me.” She reclined and lay prone on her back, staring at the ceiling. “Annnnd I think things just… spiraled from there.”

Rainbow chewed her lip. Time was short, and getting shorter by the moment, but she'd never seen Gilda open up like this before. She wanted to help her friend. She wanted her friend BACK, and considering how badly she needed her help right now, she stuffed down her instinctual need to rush things and gave the griffin time to level with her.

“Why didn't you ever...” she chanced, “I mean, we sent letters and stuff, you could've explained it-”

“PONIES explain things in letters,” Gilda said sharply, “Griffins don't. See? That's what I'm talking about. I wouldn't even know what to write! It’s not like I've been trained for this kinda thing, Dash. You know how we learn to fly? They kick us out of the nest until we don't hit the ground anymore. My social preparation consisted of being assigned a house here and instructed to spend at least a month out of every three in the company of ponies, full time. Usually, it’s a flight camp or something, 'cause that's the only environment I can seem to relate to you guys on. But even those have been somewhat abysmal since… you know.”

Rainbow did, and draped a wing over the griffin sitting beside her.

“I've missed you, Gilda,” she said simply, after a moments pause. “A lot.”

“I've missed you too, dweeb.” Gilda replied with a tired smile. She cast a sidelong glance at the pegasus pony and smirked a bit. “Nice pajamas, by the way.”

Rainbow laughed and shoved the larger avian. “These are ceremonial!” she protested, “It’s an ancient uniform!”

“It smells like one.” Gilda retorted with a chuckle, and Rainbow blushed.

“Its been a really long flight,” she explained in her own defense, “and I haven't slept since… yesterday? Day before? I can't remember. The suit is helping keep me awake at this point, Gilda. I've been non-stop for a day and a half now. We all have.” Her own statement made her think of her friends, and was accompanied by a pang of sympathy. She hoped they were alright.

“It’s really that big a problem, isn't it?” Gilda asked.

“It really is,” the blue pony replied.

Gilda stood up, and paced slowly around the room, before lifting her head and nodding firmly.

“Alright, Rainbow Dash,” she declared, “I'll tell my father Equestria needs our help. You've got your backup.”

Rainbow leaped to her hooves and hugged the griffin tightly, who responded with a laugh of protest. “Hey! Don't ruffle the feathers! You just get your pretty little ponies ready. I'll make sure the word gets out.”

Her statement trailed off as a low, hollow droning, vibrating from the very bottom of their audible range, shook the treeline from overhead. Out the window they could see a long, alien trail of dust streaming from an object slowly descending toward the horizon line. It was close now, closer than Rainbow had seen it before, and the noise rattled her very bones. A deep and painful bass so profound it deadened the air and forced all other noise away. A silence so loud not even the birds dared to speak. Rainbow swallowed hard as it cleared, fading to obscurity toward the distance.

“I don't think we're going to get another pass,” she said, and tried to hide the fear in her voice. Gilda, stunned silent, could only nod.

“I think we had better get going.”

14. Starfall

Luna flapped her wings harder, and tried to clear the buzzing out of her head. That had been the last orbit. Once more around the globe, and it would be here. She kicked off a coastal cloud as she passed it to gain momentum, and heard the contingent of Pegasus Guard that trailed her do the same. Behind them sailed no fewer than twenty ships, every vessel in the harbor that could sport a cannon or support the fleet with food and refuge from the impending battle. Behind them, sailing on the crosswinds like black whales in the starlight, were a dozen airships laden with explosives and munitions for the Pegasus Guard to employ in the air war. The dirigibles themselves were not designed for combat, and would flirt around the outskirts of the arena when the fighting began, providing supplies and support. The ethereal glow of the night sky played like sparks over the gleaming lining of every vessel, and danced over the stylized ponies emblazoned on the ship's hulls. Luna, whose eyes could see clearly in the dark, thought it a thing of beauty, and the most impressive fleet she'd seen assembled in a thousand years.

She also thought it wasn't nearly enough.

The opal spires of Kelantis twinkled in the distance, lit by starlight and their own internal luminescence. It stood motionless, its massive tentacles rooting it in place so it could maintain position high above the waves. Other kelpie ships, smooth and hydrodynamic, were slowly trawling around its perimeter, and more could be seen in the distance as swells on the ocean's placid surface. Luna could only imagine how they looked from below the waterline, floating at neutral buoyancy in massive grids, eery and motionless around the elephantine mechanical armatures that characterized the kelpie's migrating capital. Old thoughts of a war long ago crept through her mind, laced with memories of the Kraken's devastating grasp, and the chaos that once piloted it. She shook them loose. Kelantis was an asset too great to refuse due to thoughts from a time long passed. Its ancient mechanisms were among the most powerful in the world, and she knew it first hand. Still, she wondered if Aurora had truly come to terms with the all too likely chance that her inherited mechanical marvel wouldn't survive the coming conflict.

Blessed as she was with larger wings and larger purpose, Luna arrived on the deck of the Sunrise before her Pegasus Guard escort did. She landed with an authoritative thunk that snapped those ponies still on deck to attention, and appraised the situation.

“Who commands this ship?” she asked a sailor who had moments before been securing the knots on the cannon nearest to her. He saluted sharply.

“Ah, tha'd be Admiral Magenta McGorgamaforg, Princess!” he replied, and Luna lifted a brow.

“Admiral who?”

“Finest in da fleet, ma'am! She an' her officers got us all the way out here, found Princess Celestia, an' er in that might'ee mech'nized octopus roit now, talking ta da PRINCESS o' da KELPIES.” He whistled, and cupped a hoof across his muzzle, shielding his words. “'Tween you an me, Princess, I dinnit think them things existed. Now here I am, biggest adventure o' me life! I'd follow that magnificent pink bastard to 'ell an back I would!”

“Pink...” Luna closed her eyes and chuckled. “How does she do that?”

“Pard'n ma'am?”

“Nothing,” Luna replied, and turned toward Kelantis. “Inform your first officer that new orders are on the way, by means of Equestrian Navy. They'll be here within half an hour.”

The young deckhand looked perplexed. “Er… yes ma'am! Which ship should we be expectin' then?”

Luna spread her wings and kicked off the deck, soaring toward the palace entrance.

“All of them.”

Twilight Sparkle watched the distant lights of the Equestrian Navy grow closer from her position on one of the balconies of the mighty sea city. The air was cool and still, and she could hear the lapping of the waves against the massive hull below. There were likely orders being shouted somewhere, but she was high enough to be out of earshot, and only the the occasional splash of a larger wave graced her ears. She'd showered (which had been a surprise in and of itself. Why a kelpie city had freshwater showers was beyond her. She assumed they were holdover' from the palace's original use as a migrating subjugation machine), eaten, and thanks to Celestia's blessing, felt as rested as she could hope to feel. Her remarkably good condition in light of the circumstance lent a degree of surrealism to her current situation. Like it wasn't actually happening, or at least, not nearly as close as it really was.

She knew that the Star, whatever it actually was, would touch down within the hour. By all rights, she was ticking down what might be the last few minutes of her life.

She wanted a sandwich.

“Apple pie,” came a voice from beside her.

She blinked, and turned her head to see Applejack, who'd stepped unnoticed up to the wall herself. The earth pony canted her head and smirked at Twilight.

“Apple pie. Fresh out of the oven, with Granny's whipped cream and cider,” she sighed at the thought, with a dreamy look gleaming out from under her hat. She wasn't carrying any of the aforementioned delicacies of course, but her train of thought appeared to be on the same rail Twilight's was on. The purple unicorn laughed at the coincidence. After having so recently experienced a shared mind with Rarity, Applejack guessing her thoughts seemed almost expected.

“I was going to say the cupcakes from Sugarcube Corner,” she replied, and Applejack smirked.

“You were not,” she accused. “You were goin’ to say a sandwich or something. Or a salad.”

Twilight lifted a brow at the other pony, expectant of an explanation. “First Rarity's in my head, now you? Did I miss a memo or something?”

Applejack shook her head and grinned. “Nothin’ magic about it, sugarcube. You're just… Twilight Sparkle, that's all.”

Twilight was taken aback, and swatted her friend with her tail in mock protest. “What does that mean, huh? Why doesn't Twilight Sparkle eat cupcakes on the eve of battle?” she demanded.

The rodeo pony looked back over the water, and folded her forelegs up against the ledge. “Because cupcakes and pie are a last meal,” she said softly, “and a sandwich is something you eat when you’re planning on surviving for dessert, and just want to tide yourself over until then.”

The purple unicorn opened her mouth to reply, but no sound emerged. With a trembling lip, she draped her arms over her friend and hugged her close, and the very, very long day that had proceeded this moment faded from her thoughts. She was happy, and it wasn't until that moment that she'd realized just how unhappy she'd been.

“We're going to win this, Applejack,” she heard herself say, and was shocked at the solidarity of her own voice.

“Shoot,” the other mare replied, tears choked in her southern drawl, “I don't doubt it for a minute.”

When the two of them broke off, they smiled, and wiped the pooling tears in their eyes off their faces. Twilight could feel a glow in her heart she'd lost track of during the long, drudging trip. Like embers slowly stoked by some unseen bellows, it warmed her from within, and cut the chill of the sea air. Not a spark, but a furnace, gradually growing in heat and intensity. She savored the feeling, and turned for the door. Windswept had just appeared, peering around the corner cautiously and clearing her throat.

“Um, girls?” she asked, and pointed behind her. “There's somepony here to see you.”

Twilight sniffed away the last of her momentary lapse of composure and nodded, taking her position beside Applejack as they walked toward the hall. She smiled despite herself, and nudged the earth pony with her shoulder.

“Where did you pick up all these wonderful little words of wisdom, anyway?” she asked, “You always seem to have a line for whatever life throws at you.”

Applejack smiled warmly, and stepped through the doorway. “From my mother,” she replied.

Pinkie Pie waved to the pair of them as they entered the main hall. She was standing there with an exasperated looking Fluttershy, who seemed to have her mind, and eyes, on a million things at once, and didn't like any of them. Twilight felt a pang of sympathy for the pegasus pony. She'd been in enough tight spots with Fluttershy to know she wasn't about to fold under pressure this late in the game, but the girl was a worrier. She'd fret herself to death before the fight even began if somepony didn't grab her by the shoulders and shake her out of it. From the looks of Pinkie's defeated eye-rolling, she'd already attempted that. Granted, Pinkie had a tendency to take 'grab and shake' a little more literally than was perhaps necessary.

“You holding up alright?” Twilight asked Fluttershy once she'd gotten close enough to do so without attracting undue attention to the conversation.

Fluttershy chewed her lower lip. “I'm… okay, I just… I feel like I'm in the wrong place...” she answered.

Twilight draped an arm over her friend to comfort her. “Don't say that,” she said, assuming Fluttershy was suffering from another bout of self-depreciation, “you've got as much business being here as any of us do.”

Fluttershy nodded without response. She appreciated the support, but that hadn't been exactly what she meant.

“Luna was just here!” Pinkie explained, and Twilight turned to face her conversation with Applejack. “She went and visited the kelpie princess first. I think they've got something figured out, 'cause she wants to talk with us.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Shes’ waiting on the Sunrise for us now.”

“I'm thinking of changing its name,” Pinkie mused absently, “like, to 'The Frenzied Friend-ship' or 'The Pastry Pummeler' or something. Something with a kind, gentle side, that still says I-will-punch-you-in-the-nose-with-a-cannonball'.

“Pinkie,” Applejack sighed, “it’s not your ship.”

Pinkie waved a hoof. “Oh I know that,” she said dismissively, “Its Magenta McGorgamaforg's ship! I’ll have to run them by her later.”

“How...” Windswept stammered, no longer able to hold her tongue from the back row. “How do you function?”

“Magnificently,” Pinkie replied in a startlingly firm, confident voice. Her face flashed a look of such self-empowerment that pony and kelpie alike took a step back, and the pink pony spun on her heels and stepped out toward the makeshift bridge leading to the Sunrise. Twilight and company followed a few strides behind, with the purple unicorn herself slowly shaking her head and chuckling.

“Is she… completely insane?” Windswept asked, with a slight inclination of fear in her voice.

Twilight smirked. “She’s completely brilliant,” she replied simply. “So, yes.”

Luna, who tended to forgo the 'Princess' title among friends even before she officially lost it, was waiting on the deck of the Sunrise, and she wasn't alone. Clustered around her were uniformed officers of more than a dozen ships, now anchored nearby and bobbing like small islands in the moonlit waves. Earth ponies, pegasus ponies, unicorns sporting the robes of the Canterlot Magic Academy; all standing around the tall, midnight blue alicorn in rapt attention.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said with sigh of relief and a wide smile. She tucked the unicorn in with her wing and hugged her. “Shipshape here was just regaling me with tales of your adventure. My sister is safe, and I cannot thank you enough.” She glanced toward the massive bastion that was Kelantis. “It would seem I've just missed her. Unfortunate, but I can understand her rush.”

“We're… out of time, aren't we?” Fluttershy asked in a timid voice from behind Pinkie.

The larger alicorn nodded slowly. “Entirely, I'm afraid,” she responded. “We're in it now, my little ponies. The navy is here, and the Star will touch down any time now. It will come in this direction,” she pointed overhead, passing over Kelantis, “land, and travel back this way toward the mainland. We're in the right spot, all we can do now is trust in ourselves, in each other, and in the plan.”

“I'm still a little unsure on that 'plan' part, Luna,” Applejack interjected. “What exactly was it? I mean, we're all here, we're willin', but isn't there usually an ace in the hole right about now? What exactly are we doin’?”

“Fighting for our lives, Applejack,” she responded. “No ace, no trick. All the cards are on the table. We just need to make sure our hand is better than theirs.” She managed a playful wink. “Personally, I prefer it that way. We have one job today, ponies,” she said firmly, addressing the crowd. “Let’s do it well.”

Luna stepped forward toward the doorway and pointed out over the water and at the approaching ships, including the Sunrise just below them. Her tone and canter had shifted to one more akin to a general addressing her troops. It lacked the volume of the royal Canterlot voice, but was no less official.

“I've spoken to Princess Aurora. Bless her devious heart, when she stands for something, she stands like a stone. The kelpies will be bearing the brunt of the offensive. Their ships aren't intended to fight things above the water, and while I don't know for certain WHAT these beings look like, I think we can be fairly sure they won’t be designed for swimming. It will probably fly, or at least be large enough that the water here won't obstruct its movement.”

There were various nods all around, though the thought of a being that could stand and move without impedance in water deep enough to support Kelantis was somewhat terrifying in and of itself. Equestrians were used to large monsters; they had more than a few living locally. But this was somewhat beyond 'large' and nestled more in the 'nightmarishly colossal' category.

“Since they lack our brand of offensive magics and their vessels are built to combat underwater targets,” Luna continued, “they'll be focusing entirely on protecting us. It’s our job to deliver the blows that bring the creature down.” She turned to face them, her expression stern. “The longer that takes, the more our allies will have to endure.”

Twilight blinked at that. It seemed a rather extreme step for Princess Aurora to take for a society she'd intentionally avoided for generations. Windswept, who had also been listening, picked up on Twilight's trepidation and spoke softly.

“She's doing this because its the best use of our resources,” she said, staying under Luna's voice as she continued to distribute orders, “but it’s also out of a need to settle a very, very old debt. Aurora… All of us really, feel we still owe you for Discord, and kelpies don't like being indebted. She feels this will square us off, and that can go a long way toward improving relations between Equestria and Kelopolis when this thing is over. I, for one, pray she’s wrong.”

Twilight lifted a brow at her. “You… do?” she asked, and Windswept sighed.

“That debt came out of a very long, very hard war, Twilly. Centuries of fighting. It was purchased in blood and tears. Honestly, if we pay back our pound of flesh to Equestria today, I don't think there will be any kelpies left to reap the benefits.”

Luna had paused for a moment to stroke the massive mechanical tendril that served as the bridge between the Kelantis palace and the Sunrise. Her face was full of old memories, likely of that very same war, and she smiled a small, whimsical smile.

“This old thing,” she said, a chuckle in her voice. “Celestia hates it. She wanted it gone the moment we locked Discord away. I always thought what Aurora did with it was inspiring.”

Her smile faded a little, and she turned back toward the others.

“This palace is their Canterlot,” she said, “and they are sending it into battle. It’s a monstrous machine assembled of power and engineering unparallelled on our world, but...” she sung its praises, but followed them with a sigh of consent to realism, “but I for one do not expect it to survive in one piece.” She lowered her voice just a little, speaking cautiously. “The kelpies are proud and willing, little ponies,” she said, “but if Kelantis should fall… I don't believe we can count on them staying in the fight afterward. It is, literally, the rock that holds them together, as is Aurora. We all know we have to fight to win from the very first shot, but that fight will become horrifically difficult should we fail to seize victory before Kelantis meets its end.

Applejack, by experience, glanced toward Windswept in expectancy of a rebuttal. Instead, the little kelpie's lip trembled slightly, and she maintained her silence. It was true, and she knew it. Something about the mental image of the monolithic structure they stood beside falling in combat like a slain warrior drove home the gravity of the fight that lay before them, and Twilight could feel the heartbeats of every pony nearby quicken. Mercifully, Luna didn't give them much time to dwell on it.

“Admiral McGorgamaforg,” she said to Pinkie, with a raised brow and a smirk, “against my better judgment, you will maintain command of the Sunrise.” She chuckled softly as Pinkie's eyes widened in excitement. “They know your face now, and they credit you with a rather profound victory, and impressive rescue to boot.” She lowered her voice just slightly and added “Personally, I think you had a little help, but we'll just keep that between us.”

She winked, and Pinkie Pie laughed aloud.

“Applejack,” she continued, “I need Shipshape to move to another vessel, as the most experienced officer. That means Pink… Magenta, needs a first mate.”

“I’m usin' my real name,” Applejack warned Pinkie, who had already produced her large coat from… Pinkie… land… and was fumbling around in her pockets for a pipe. She guffawed, and smacked the other pony on the flank.

“You'll answer to whatever I call you and you'll do it with a SIR, seananny!”

Twilight could see Applejack mouthing 'I will murder her' to Luna as Pinkie adjusted her hat, and the alicorn grinned. It was a ridiculous idea. She respected the power of ridiculous ideas.

“Twilight,” she said, turning to the unicorn, “whether you choose to admit it or not, you're one of the finest magicians in Equestria, and I can't risk having both you and your friends on a single ship. I need to divide my assets. I'm assigning you to the Triumphant. You'll have command of the unicorns there, and through relays by the Pegasus Guard, the unicorns in the rest of the navy. I'm counting on you to put our magic where it’s most needed.”

There was a muffled uproar of protest from the surrounding unicorns. Twilight Sparkle was a known name around Canterlot, but not in any great detail. Ponies knew she'd been awarded for great deeds on Equestria's behalf, but those who had not looked into the matter extensively tended to put those awards at more or less the same level of importance as the ones handed out for charity work. Many of these unicorns were senior members of the Canterlot Academy, and rather stuck in their ways.

Twilight turned to try and reassure them all of her qualifications (which she was, herself, a little uncertain of in the present company) but their harsh glares silenced her before she could speak.

“General Luna,” one protested, “you can’t really-”

“I CAN,” she declared in a voice that radiated over the water, “and I have. Twilight, take command.”

“But..but I don't know them, what if they-” Twilight cut herself off and bit her tongue. She'd find a way. There wasn't time to worry about that now. “Yes, Luna. I'll make sure it happens.”

Luna nodded and turned to Fluttershy, who had been nervously shifting her weight and twitching her wings. Every so often her hoof had raised during Luna's speech to try and get her attention, and lowered a moment later in fear of actually being noticed, or interrupting. When Twilight had faced the scrutiny of the other unicorns, she'd bit her lip, still too concerned about the results of her previous attempts to be 'assertive' to risk it here. Now, it had seemed, she was awaiting her own assignment, but her body language spoke of a pony who desperately wanted to be somewhere else.

It did not, however, speak of fear. And that in itself was a strange thing for Fluttershy.

The larger alicorn paused for a moment as she looked at the worried yellow pegasus pony, and smiled a small, knowing smile.

“It’s a very, very long flight, little one,” she said gently, “and you don't have much time to do it.”

Fluttershy blinked and looked up at her. “I… what?”

“Rainbow,” Luna said, “she has quite a head start on you. I can teleport you as far as Canterlot, and from there Princess Rarity can push you further toward the east coast, but you'll still need to fly the last span. Harder than you've ever flown before, if you hope to get there in time to help.”

Fluttershy's eyes had grown wider and wider as Luna spoke, and as she completed her last statement, the meek yellow mare sprung to attention with wings snapped high and desperation in her eyes.

“I'LL GO!” she exclaimed, as though worried Luna might not hear her from two feet away. “I’ll go! Send me! I… I… Girls, um, I'm… sorry but...” she looked apologetically toward the other three, who were all a little stunned by her response. It was Applejack who's shock transitioned into a smile first.

“Go on, Fluttershy,” she said, warmth in her tone, “the three of us can handle things here. RD needs the backup.” She pointed a hoof at the pegasus pony. “You just make sure you make it in time, ya'hear?”

“I won’t let you down,” she replied, her jaw set. Uncharacteristic confidence and determination radiated off her body, but it wasn't something any of them hadn't seen before.

Twilight couldn't help but grin. She'd hoped for this. Fluttershy was in the fight. A different fight, perhaps, but she'd get there with Hell flying in her wake.

“I'm ready,” she told Luna, but then hesitated slightly. “Just a moment,” she added.

The yellow pegasus marched toward the most outspoken of the protesting unicorn mages.

“Now you listen to me,” she snarled, “that purple unicorn has pulled your plush pillow-sitting butts out of the fire more often than you've enjoyed the company of a mare in your lifetimes, you snotty arrogant nose-lifting twits. She's led five ponies who barely knew each other into battle against things that once left this whole country… no… this whole WORLD in war for CENTURIES, and she's WON. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.”

Every word was punctuated by Fluttershy (who, when she wasn't hunkered down in a submissive posture, was actually a fairly large pony) shoving her nose into the face of the now vaguely terrified unicorn and burning a hole through the back of his skull by means of her unflinching gaze into his eyes.

“So every last one of you had better pull your heads out from under your tails and LISTEN to what she has to say,” she hissed, “because if there's ANYPONY on this boat that's going to save the world, its TWILIGHT GOD DAMNED SPARKLE.” One of her eyes widened fiercely, and drove the unicorn into the deck of the ship. “Got it?!”

“Got it,” he replied, in a voice barely audible over a whisper.

“Good.” Fluttershy growled, and turned to face Luna with a single pivot and a heavy stomp. “SEND ME TO WAR.”

There was a terrific flash of purple and blue light, and Fluttershy was gone, drawn through a portal of Luna's creation and sent off toward Canterlot. Her outburst had left even the alicorn speechless, and her response to Fluttershy's demand had been so fast she'd almost appeared to be frightened of taking too long. Twilight coughed nervously, and every unicorn on deck snapped to attention, as though the throat-clearing had been a prelude to orders. She blinked, and whispered an aside to Windswept.

“Er… what’s the kelpie name for the Element of Kindness?” she asked.

“The Endless Sea,” she replied, “It’s, uh… a reference to the bottomless well of kindness the Element bearer is said to possess, but any reference to an ocean in our culture tends to be double-sided. Oceans brew storms, you see. Hurricanes. The name kinda goes both ways.”

Twilight smiled. “Hurricane Fluttershy,” she said softly. It sounded oddly fitting.

Fluttershy's 'inspirational speaking' had done wonders for motivating the unicorns under Twilight's command, and within minutes after her departure, the ponies on board the Sunrise had been dismissed, and rushed back to their posts. Twilight had stepped onto the deck of the Triumphant mere moments before, and having familiarized herself with the ship's fundamental layout, had taken position on the bridge, and overlooked the water before her. Luna was beside her, having chosen Twilight's ship as a base of operations for the air campaign. It had the largest deck, and she wanted to be nearby the unicorn.

Kelantis had shifted position, and its monstrous tentacles had sunk into the water to grant it additional support. Not long ago, Twilight had watched a mass exodus of non-essential personnel diving off the sides and into the water, but the majority, she knew, had stayed. While it was certainly possible to flee from these… things… it would only be for so much time. This was a fight for the world, and most chose to be right there, on the front lines. Even pegasus weather ponies and civilian unicorns and earth ponies alike had arrived in personal watercraft within the past few minutes, following the big ships out toward a fate they knew not what, but felt in their hearts was too important to ignore.

“There it is,” Luna said softly, her larger ears twitching.

She'd been listening for it, and Twilight strained her own ears, looking toward where the once-princess was facing. It began as a low drone, its size and shape vibrating the air in such a way through massive gaps and pockets in its alien architecture that it's natural pitch rattled the very bones in her body and set her teeth rattling. Were it not for the dampening of the ocean, she would've worried about the hulls of the ships shaking apart from the noise alone as it gained in volume and dipped to frequencies normally reserved for whale-song. As it approached, she could see a wall of smoke and steam pouring off its still hidden shape. It had slowed itself to something significantly less than orbital speed, but was still fast enough to pass overhead like a rocket, and send the pegasus ponies in the clouds scattering. The low-end of its sound was joined by a piercing scream she prayed was due to some strange aspect of its design and the passage of air over it rather than from a mouth, as a being that made that noise naturally spoke to her of childhood nightmares that resided in closets, under beds, and in the darkest corners of the darkest rooms. Creatures that grew bigger with fear, and couldn't be slain without the presence of some nightlight she knew wasn't coming. It was the sound of one's brain being ripped in half, thought by thought. It made her wish for daylight.

It passed them as quickly as it had arrived, descending ever lower toward a distant point of impact. The splash it made blotted out the starlight, and sent water up in a multi-level arch that resembled a hand with too many fingers, reaching out to grab the night. It was enormous, and the sheer level of enormous was only made clear by how long it took the sound of its touchdown to reach them. By the time it arrived at the boats, it was little more than a rush of warm air, followed by a wave that rocked the ships noticeably, but must have lost most of its ferocity during its trip. Twilight could hear the shuffling of activity on the decks, and the thrumming of her own fluttering heartbeat in her ears. It was here now. All that stood between her and destiny was a few scant miles of ocean. The waiting, now, was more frightening than the creature itself. She still hadn't seen it in full detail, but every moment it sulked out of view, shrouded by darkness, it grew larger in her mind. Every minute passed in silence added to her worries and doubts. And worse still, she knew she wasn't alone. Every pony in every cloud, every sailor on every ship, all were slowly, nervously shifting their weight, and waiting.

She had very nearly lost her mind, when Luna put a wing on her shoulder.

“Twilight,” she said softly, and the pony looked up at her. She was smiling. Luna was smiling, and she pointed out toward the water. “Listen.”

Twilight strained her ears toward Kelantis, looming ahead of them, and her eyes widened. The kelpies had begun to sing. Slowly, like a blanket of Hearthswarming lights draping down a building, Kelantis lit from its top to its bottom. The soft, colorful glow of kelpie bio-luminescence sparked on every level of the massive castle. It washed the walls in blues and greens and oranges, and cascaded across the water like fairy fire. And as they lit, their voices grew, and Twilight could here the pounding of drums, and the voice of a people united.

We are born, embraced by the sea
blinking lights with beating hearts
Held in trust by surf and wave
Shining in the dark

Lights! Lights!
Lights on the sea,
A hundred thousand torches
aflame and burning brightly

Home is our name
for the dark and the cold
Trust is a word for the lies we’re all told
Deep is a place where our nightmares dive
and make all our fears unfold

Fire! Fire!
Flame within our hearts,
A hundred thousand torches
to warm us with their sparks

With every verse the beating of drums grew louder, and the ring of unique, waterborne instruments rippled across the waves and bounced off the hulls of the Equestrian fleet. Kelpie bio lights glowed brighter on the surface, floating around the Triumphant like rainbow lanterns, and dipping deep under the sea to form a thick, glowing blanket of sound and light. But most amazing of all, Twilight Sparkle knew this song. She'd never met a kelpie before Windswept, never even believed they existed, but the tune, the cadence, had been sung with different lyrics in Canterlot since time immemorial.

Wave and storm, our cradles
Deluge, our daily bread
Thunder shapes our world
and lightning arcs above our heads

Be bright! Be bright!
With all your heart, unite
A hundred thousand torches
to ward you in the night!

And when the ocean rages
or when the sky grows black
or when the moon cannot be seen
behind the worries on your back

To her right, distant, but clear in the still of the air, came Pinkie Pie's voice, ringing out over the ocean to join with the symphony of sea ponies. She knew it too. Every pony knew it. Different words, perhaps, different references, but the song itself had been passed down through every tribe, every culture, since the day Discord was banished over a thousand years ago. Since the last time the world stood united against a common enemy with all its hearts as one.

Be strong! Be strong!
It’s been in you, all along
A hundred thousand torches
and yours among their song!

Pinkie's voice carried across the Equestrian battle lines, and before she was three words in, she had vocal reinforcement. Ponies on every bow broke out in song, slamming their hooves into the decking to punctuate their words. Pegasus ponies kicked the clouds in time to every verse, raining drumbeats of thunder and stoking their air with the smell of storms and the energy of lightning. The muted glow of kelpie mouths ignited into a dazzling array that bounced across the mists of the sea and wrapped every pony in a cloak of light that turned Kelantis into a beacon in the night.

We can make the sea our servant!
We can transmute fear to hope!
With fin and flame and lights within,
We will grow and swim and thrive again!

As one! As one!
One voice, one soul, one light!
Together! Eternal!
By all our hopes and dreams
A hundred thousand torches!
A hundred thousand torches!
One hundred thousand spirits
Burning on the sea!

The monster's howl could be heard now, raining out across the sea. But this time, when it hit the ships, the ships howled back. An eruption of voice and righteous indignation that roared its protest against this new invader, and swore to it the same bitter ending that had befallen every enemy that had dared tread its path against this world before. Twilight's voice was among them, and she shared a savage grin with Luna. Let it come. Let the stars themselves fall upon them.

The fight was here, and they were ready.

15. For Equestria, and the World

“What do you intend to do?”

“The best I can.”

Hoity Toity let out a little sigh and cocked a sympathetic brow toward the pacing mass of Princess Rarity. She'd been wearing a row into the rug in Princess Celestia's bedroom, walking back and forth, trying to formulate some sort of solution to the sun problem. The problem being, of course, that there was no sun to speak of, and trying to convince Canterlot that everything was going to work out okay was going to be awfully hard to do with an empty, black sky overhead.

“Princess,” Fancy Pants said, stepping up from beside Hoity and holding out a hoof, “that's a lovely sentiment, but we really need a direction to move on. You're bogging yourself down with too many problems right now. Breathe.”

Princess Rarity resisted the urge to snap at him. Of course she was bogged down with too many problems; there were too many problems! She slowed her pacing, but didn't stop it completely, and attempted to pace her breathing. Helpful. Not a solution, though.

“Do you think it’s a ‘Princess’ thing?” Hoity asked aside to Fancy, who chuckled a little.

“I think it’s a leader thing,” he replied. Princess Rarity looked over, confused and agitated. Fancy pointed at the floor. “You didn't do all that yourself, Rarity,” he said simply.

Rarity glanced at the rug, and for the first time took notice of the faded row that had been trampled into it. The only part of the rug that was threadbare, and it was the same track she was walking.

“Princess Celestia… did this?” she asked, taken aback.

“Does that,” Fancy corrected, “with some degree of regularity, actually. Usually when she’s worried about her student, and the rest of you.”

Princess Rarity stopped walking and slowly dropped into a seated posture. “I… huh,” she pondered. “She always just seems so composed. I never thought of her as a worrier.”

“Most ponies don't,” Hoity said, smiling from under his shaded glasses, “which is why when she tells them to do something, they do it. Even if she doesn’t have all the answers yet. They assume she does. Often, that's enough, until the other answers can be found.”

Princess Rarity looked around the room. Princess Celestia's room. Her sanctuary for some thousand-plus years now. It was simple, elegant. But here and there she could spy little pieces of personal paraphernalia. Tiny trinkets, hanging from doorways or hidden beside books. A little bauble. An earring. A stuffed animal. She smiled. What possible memories could all those hold, that an eternal being would keep them perpetually present in her company? They almost seemed hidden, like she'd placed them specifically to forget they were there, and experience the thrill of finding them again.

For perhaps the first time in her life, it occurred to Rarity that Celestia was, in fact, a pony, as well as a princess.

“It’s all an act,” she said softly.

“All the world's a stage, dear,” Hoity Toity replied in an equally gentle voice. “The trick is putting together one hell of a show.”

Princess Rarity set her gaze. “I can put on a show,” she said firmly, and looked over to the pair of them. “Alright. Immediate problems. I have a declaration to the public to make in two...” she looked at the fine filigree clock on the wall and swallowed, “... one and a half hours. I need the Sun Dais prepared.”

“Already on it,” Fancy Pants reported.

“Annnd I need to know how to raise the sun.”

Fancy and Hoity clenched their teeth a little and looked at each other.

“Er… that one is a little more… touchy,” Fancy chanced, motioning with trepidation with a circling hoof. “Princess Celestia never really indicated if she'd ever recorded that trick anywhere.”

Princess Rarity blinked. “She… what?” she asked incredulously, “She had to have. Surely there was some sort of contingency in place for this sort of thing, in case she was ever lost or captured?”

“Princess Luna,” the two of them replied in unison.

Rarity waved her hoof. “Beyond that.”

“The Elements of Harmony,” they again replied as one.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Beyond that!”

Hoity and Fancy looked at each other, before turning back to the princess and shrugging. Rarity felt her lip tremble.

“When this is over,” she declared hotly, “we're going to have a serious talk about re-evaluating the emergency protocols of this nation.” She resumed her pacing. “No pony knows how to do it. Delightful. It has to be somewhere. She wouldn’t just take it to the grave with her, it’s too important! It’s written down, it has to be... It’s just finding it.” She looked over as she walked, trotting the same path they'd watch Celestia trot many times before. “The palace libraries? The Starswirl the Bearded wing? Twilight said that's where all the most dangerous spells are kept.”

Twilight had never actually told her that, she realized. For a fleeting moment, she scoured her mind for the link to her purple friend. Nothing. Silence. But still, she had that little tidbit, tucked away. Maybe there was more of Twilight left in her than she'd realized. She said a quiet thank you for that. Twilight Sparkle was exactly the pony she needed to be right now.

“I'll have the librarians scour the shelves right away, Princess,” Hoity declared, saluting and spinning on a hoof to exit the room.

Fancy stepped forward. “Princess,” he cautioned, “it’s a good place to start. We can send an army of ponies in there, check every book, but it’s still a public wing. Albeit a high security one. I can't guarantee Princess Celestia would have left a spell that important in there.”

Rarity chewed her lip, but her gaze remained firm. “I don't think she'd hide it too well,” she replied. “Celestia is ageless, but she isn’t invincible. She knows that. She wouldn’t leave us all in the dark if she passed. It has to be somewhere accessible.”

Celestia. Not Princess. She hadn’t even realized she'd left the title off. Fancy noticed, but didn’t comment, save for an almost invisible smile. There was hope yet.

“Is there anywhere in the palace only accessible to the princess?” she asked, exploring a different route of investigation. “Somewhere only she's allowed to go?”

“Several, but they all have exceptions to the rule,” Fancy replied, mentally scrolling up a list. “Her bedroom, for instance, but we're both in it right now. Her private study, but Twilight Sparkle spent most of her childhood in there, along with Spike and their other tutors. Some of the old wings that have artifacts from the Discord Age locked up in them, but scholars and researchers are in and out of there on a reasonable basis. The vault where she held the Elements of Harmony,” he scrunched his face, “but I think she emptied that when Discord proved himself able to penetrate it so easily. The private garden, but it’s all outdoors. The harem-”

Princess Rarity blinked, and looked over at Fancy Pants, who seemed to have stumbled upon the same possibility.

“She wouldn’t have...” Rarity said.

“She might have!” Fancy countered. “It’s one of the most private areas in the palace. Everypony in there is sworn to personal secrecy and exclusive to the Princess. It’s the only place completely free of outside traffic.” He seemed to mull the possibility. “It’s more than just a room for indiscretions, Rarity; it’s also a rather beautiful building. More often than not she'd go in there just to have some quiet time alone.”

Rarity lifted a brow, both in incredulity and interest. “Worth checking out?”

“I would recommend it,” he replied. “I'll scour the Princess' study myself on the off chance she kept it there, but she was usually only in that room if she was helping Twilight. If you're going to keep something that fundamental around, you'd probably keep someplace a fair distance from inquisitive children.”

“Somewhere you would feel safe in,” Rarity mused.

Fancy nodded, and moved for the door. “This way,” he gestured, “and, Princess… do try not to get distracted in there. We're on a bit of a tight schedule.”

Princess Rarity made no promises.

=====================================================================

Cold.

Twilight struggled to right herself as the frigid clutch of the ocean's embrace numbed her to the bones. She'd felt cold before, but there was something altogether more sinister about this kind of cold. It was deceptive, almost ignorable upon first encountering it while the blood thudded through your veins and convinced you that the chill was a minor nuisance more than anything else. But within a minute's time its slow crawl would seep into your very being and sap you of your strength and mobility, as it threatened to do to her. This made three times she'd been flung from the boat. She was long past the point of underestimating the cold of the open water.

Vibrant bio-luminescence swirled around in the inky black like a tornado of light and fury. It was all she could see down there, that and the dark hulks of ship hulls and the occasional forlorn silhouette of shattered vessels slowly sinking to their eternal rest. One set of lights, eyes and teeth in the dark, darted below her with staggering speed, and she felt herself lifted violently toward the surface. Her heart sang with relief, but sank with realization that felt even colder than the water around her. Once more, she'd been rescued. Once more, into the fray.

Sound and violence erupted around her when her head breached the surface. Yelling from all sides, calls to arms and the roar of cannon blasts from a dozen of Equestria's finest sailing vessels rained down around her like a deluge of bedlam and urgency. A familiar face erupted from the water beside her, and wrapped a fin around her side.

“You've GOT to stop falling off your pretty little boat, Twilly!” Windswept yelled as she towed the waterlogged unicorn toward relative safety, if anything still counted as that.

Twilight coughed ocean out of her lungs in a sputtering attempt to speak. Windswept couldn't hear her anyway, head half covered by water as it was while she swam.

“Just-” Twilight coughed, “get me to the closest one!”

Windswept got the idea, or had the same one herself, but never had the chance to implement it. An object of such immensity as to defy identification landed on the nearest ship from above and detonated it like a hoof stomping on a sapling. Twilight had barely enough time to hold her breath before the resulting wave caught her and her finned escort and towed them under. She squeezed her eyes and mouth shut, winced against the pressure, and counted heart beats while she prayed for rescue. It was all she could do out here, in the middle of the maelstrom. Windswept had been right: Equestrians couldn’t swim. Not really. Not in this.

Strong fins towed her to sweet air and the howls of an unearthly foe once again, and Twilight shook her head and gasped, blinking the water free from her eyes. The small ship that had been there moments earlier was gone. Completely and totally. Kelpie rescue teams swarmed under the wreckage like frenzied sharks, grabbing as many ponies as they could and towing them to the nearest ship still afloat. Twilight reoriented herself and pointed toward the next potential refuge with a fevered yell, and Windswept took off toward the hull of the Sunrise with Twilight gripping her dorsal fin. Her teeth were chattering by the time they pulled alongside it, but its outline stood out in razor focus. She clenched her jaw against the cold and grunted as she flickered out of existence, leaving the water that coated her fur behind as she exited her teleport on the deck of the ship. Being free of the wet went a long way toward being free of the cold, but not enough to thaw the ache in her bones. At this point, though, Twilight wasn’t sure if they'd ever stop aching. Within her lifetime, at least.

“Good luck!” she yelled to Windswept, who threw her a salute before disappearing beneath the jagged waves and joining the swirls of blinking lights just below the surface. After the first time, she'd made a note to thank the kelpie later for pulling her out of the water and getting her back to her ship. Twice later, that mentality had faded. Windswept was doing her job, and so was Twilight. Everypony, all of them, deserved more thanks than could possibly be afforded to them. The question now was less 'who was worthy of praise' and more 'would anypony be left to give it'.

Which was not to say Equestria was listing on its last legs. The majority of the fleet still remained, thanks to the amazing efforts of the kelpies to keep them from harm. Devastating attacks were narrowly avoided by quick manipulation of large masses of water to shove ships just barely out of the way, and ponies hurled from their ships by impacts or the rocking of the waves were swiftly rescued and teleported back on board by the combined efforts of lightning-quick kelpie swimmers and Twilight's own unicorn support team, tasked with the job of ensuring that every post that needed a pony had one.

Crew reallocation via teleport had made for brutally efficient shooting on the part of the Equestrian navy, but was exhausting Twilight's own teams fast. After the first few waves she'd implemented a cyclical system to ensure no unicorn was performing more than three teleports in a row before being relieved by the next in line so they could catch a moment's rest. 'Moment' had changed its definition since the start of the fight. She'd hoped it could be ‘two minutes’. It was currently ‘thirty seconds’, and even that felt like stretching painfully thin. She wanted to drop it to fifteen, but it was becoming all too clear that they couldn’t keep up that level of intensity for the long haul. She chewed her lip as she ran for the bow of the ship. 50 seconds? 50 seconds. The math worked out. They could keep that pace for a while. They'd have to. Though it meant the unicorns on the front lines would be taking on the additional lapse during their shifts. Efficiency would drop. Twilight groaned at that, and seethed at her own attention to detail. Efficiency WOULD drop. Ponies would slip through the cracks, and the kelpies had to prioritize the ships over the stragglers. There would be losses.

She put the thought from her head. Win, Twilight Sparkle. Win or we're all lost anyway.

The Star had hit the front lines less than seven minutes ago.

=====================================================================

“NOW!”

Rainbow Dash felt the wind bite hard at her wings as she banked, tip to tip with Spitfire and Soarin, each pony loaded down with heavy griffin explosives. They released, and the spherical iron payloads sailed with brilliant accuracy toward their target. Rainbow could feel the explosions behind her, like cannon balls hitting home. They singed her feathers, and she swerved to avoid the shrapnel. A hit. A most palpable hit. She would have cheered, like she did the first time.

She knew better, now.

The thing behind her howled its indignation, and she could hear the thunder-like crack of the solid stone of the mountain being ripped asunder. She bit her lip, and looked toward her wingmates. They were looking at her, too. Fear glinted in their eyes. For the smallest of moments, it was unearthly quiet. As though something was blocking the air from reaching her ears from behind. She could almost hear her wings whistling.

“Here it comes again,” Soarin said softly, and inhaled with a wince.

The world around them exploded. Stones the size of houses shot past at cannon ball speed. Rocks like watermelons showered from above by the thousands. The thing was throwing the mountain at them, chunk by chunk, with all the concern of a filly kicking mud at an annoying rodent. Rocks. Rainbow Dash had never in her life been afraid of somepony armed with rocks. She was very afraid now.

Spitfire howled in pain as pebbles like grapeshot pelted her from behind, and dropped altitude rapidly. Soarin called out to her, but was forced to abandon his pursuit as a cluster of skull-sized stones hurled past him, almost too quickly to see. By the time he had a clear shot, she was already too low. He dove. Six seconds away. Just six seconds. And five seconds to the ground. Rainbow felt her breath catch in her throat, and ticked away the last moments of Spitfire the Wonderbolt. She could hear herself speaking. She couldn’t hear the words. She doubted they were words at all.

Gilda screeched upward from below, emerging from around the treeline and snagging the falling crimson haired pony, hauling her upward. The lift brought her into Soarin's range, and he scooped her up on the pass and sang the griffin's praises as he deposited his injured partner around a bend in a thus far untouched mountain. Rainbow shouted out loud with glee, but Gilda's face remained stern. Celebration would come later.

The griffin had opted to sacrifice mobility for armor, and was clad in the overlapping metal plate her race had sported to battle for years. The smaller stones sounded like hail on a tin roof as they rained against her bulk during her ascent to Rainbow's level. Their assailant had turned back and resumed its inextricable march toward the Equestrian interior. Their attack was naught but an annoyance, and its response little more than a limb brushing away gnats. Depressing though the thought of that was, at least it was according to plan.

“Up above the clouds!” Gilda yelled, soaring past Rainbow Dash, who flapped up alongside her. The pair of them powered upward, sacrificing discretion for speed to take full advantage of the Star's momentary lack of interest.

“Are you sure?” Rainbow yelled over the sound of the remaining rocks dropping from the air and thudding into the ground, “We'll lose eye contact! If it throws again-”

“The bombers are ready!” Gilda yelled back. “It’s now or never, Dash!”

Rainbow swallowed hard. She'd heard that before. This might well be the first time it was genuinely true.

“I sure hope your dad's ready for this, Gilda,” she said, kicking her wings hard to sail through the cloud level. Gilda scoffed.

“Have you met my dad?”

Rainbow and her golden partner burst through the clouds to the field of white above them, and the pegasus pony's breath caught in her throat. Hundreds. There had to be hundreds. Row after row of beautiful, gleaming, armored bodies. Gauntlet clad talons wrapped around sinister black iron bombs. Overlapping rows of plate, clanging rhythmically as the entire host flapped as one. And breeds, every sort of breed she could think of. Griffins she didn’t even know existed. Lion griffins and tiger griffins and lynx and panther and hawk and eagle and every breed in between. Stripes, spots, lines and blotches, united with the cold unyielding lines of gleaming plate steel. Harsh, avian eyes glared through hooked, silver helmets. Rainbow had never seen its like. For a heartbeat, she almost felt over-prepared.

The feeling passed.

At their lead was a massive bald eagle, clad in gold, leather and muscle with pauldrons that bowled around the curves of his feline shoulders. He gripped a long metal club with a wicked talon protruding from one side and a painfully blunt stop on the other. His beak was framed in feathers, fluffed outward so as to give the impression of a full beard and soot black. What she could see of them, anyway, behind his savagely large grin. Gilda's father, Gultan.

“It’s below you!” Gilda called out, gesturing with a claw. “Headed southwest, into the mainland!”

Gultan laughed, his voice low and full, and Rainbow couldn't decide if his confidence stemmed from sheer ability or relative insanity. A solid mix of both would suit the situation well enough.

“GOOOOD!” He exclaimed, and lifted his mace high above his head. “Squadron forty!!!”

The griffins immediately behind him for three rows snapped to attention with a sudden clanging of armor and hefting of munitions. Gultan set his gaze, and his eager grin widened.

“DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”

Screeches filled the air as the first wave howled downward, tearing through the cloud layer and billowing it outward into mist as they traveled. No sooner had the last of them vanished into the haze when Gultan lifted his mace once more.

“Second wave!” he thundered.

Gilda shoved Rainbow in line with them. They gave each other a look, one last moment of trepidation, before swallowing it down. Time for the real thing.

“DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”

Rainbow Dash shot downward, Gilda and thirty other griffins joined to her, wing tip to wing tip, into the white blind of the cloud. Sound and fury echoed around her as the first wave delivered its payload. She could see nothing, wrapped in the white haze, but she could feel the impacts. Each concussion struck her like a club, threatening to knock the wind from her lungs. She held strong, and she and her wave breached the lower surface of the cloud and took aim at their enemy.

==================================================================

Mountainous. That had been the first word to come to Twilight's mind. It was mountainous. In more ways than one.

She estimated its size as roughly twice that of the Canterlot palace, at least in height. Flesh like stone, but porous and rough. That had been what had made all the noise as it fly past; all the hard, deep holes catching and rending the air. It moved on five independent limbs, each one wider than the largest of Equestria's ships and surrounded by the same armored carapace. And it felt like armor, to Twilight. Their cannons were damaging it, flaking it off with repeated, magically guided impacts, but she didn’t feel like the thing itself was enduring any harm. It was like beating on a shell they had yet to crack. Its motions were slow, but maddeningly powerful, and it was impossible to tell where it was focusing its attention. At any given moment it would change directions, as though it saw from all sides at once. It couldn’t be flanked, and it could shift its orientation with enough speed to keep sustained fire off the areas of its body that had already sustained harm. It had no discernible head to speak of, and in the spaces between each of its five limbs lay a stony maw with teeth like the crags of a cliff face. A maw that could swallow a ship completely, and crush it between its rock-like jaws.

She knew. She'd seen it happen.

“Guide those IN, unicorns!” She yelled over the maelstrom, her own violet magic taking the shape of a curved ramp and guiding the propelled cannon balls of the neighboring ship in toward a centralized location on the creatures body. The other unicorns followed suit, and volley after volley collided in rapid succession. It was tremendously efficient, but it just wasn’t doing enough! They were chipping at it, chipping away while it ran rampant through their lines and tore through their kelpie escort like a dog with a chew toy. Twilight fought back her panic. Adjust. Adjust the plan. She'd lost track of how many times the plan had been adjusted. She'd lost track of how many ships had been reduced to so much flotsam in the water.

“Twilight!” Applejack's voice called out over the battle din. She ran up the deck from below, concern and exhaustion on her face. “We're taking on water, sugarcube. I think we can patch it but we're gonna lose this boat if we don't put some distance between us and the meat grinder!”

“WE MOST CERTAINLY ARE NOT!” came the booming voice of Admiral Magenta McGorgamaforg, who just then leaped up on the deck of the ship from along side it. Her smoking pipe had ricocheted square off Applejack's forehead before her hooves had even met the timbers. Every pony on deck breathed a sigh of relief as their commander set her jaw and fetched a new mouth prop from her coat. This one blew bubbles.

That meant it was serious.

Pinkie had taken temporary command of the Rodeo, which was left captain-less after taking a wave that nearly capsized it. Its command now replaced, she'd only just arrived back aboard the Sunrise, and the fire in her eyes burned hot.

“THIS SHIP,” she declared, and put her hoof up on a nearby pony so as to strike a more dramatic pose, “is going IN!”

“In where?!” Applejack exclaimed, and Pinkie Pie grinned.

“Luna has a plan,” she explained. “We're going to punch a hole in one of those legs, and the kelpies are going to start flooding it. Build up enough pressure-”

“And it will crack the shell from inside!” Twilight said in shock. “Pinkie, you're a ge-”

“Admiral,” she said matter-of-factually, and puffed a few smug bubbles from her pipe.

“ALL AHEAD, FULL!” Applejack yelled to the wheelhouse, and the pony within saluted her.

Twilight took off toward the cannons to relay orders down the line and ready them for the operation. Applejack turned quickly back to her puffy maned friend, who now stood stalwartly at the bow.

“Pinkie,” she cautioned, “I weren’t kiddin' about the hole in the boat. We get in much more chop and we're not gettin’ out again.”

“Plug the hole for me,” Pinkie Pie replied, her back still turned.

“Pinkie, it ain't-”

“Applejack,” Pinkie said softly, and turned to face the blond mare.

She was smiling. Not her big, Pinkie Pie smile. A small one. A resigned one. A smile that made Applejack hurt inside, just a little.

“We need to get there,” she said simply. “We need to get there, and we need to get the job done. We don't need to get back. Please. Make that happen for me.”

Applejack slowly closed her mouth, which was hanging slightly agape, and nodded. “Aye aye, Admiral,” she replied, and found her smile matched Pinkie's.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, before embracing firmly.

“Whatever the end, Applejack.” Pinkie said, a single tear on her cheek.

“I'll meet you there, sugarcube,” Applejack replied, and squeezed tighter. When she released, she spun on her hoof and took off toward the lower decks, snagging two other ponies to help her on the way. Pinkie didn't see her face. For that, she was thankful. It would have hurt too much.

The Sunrise's screws churned the water hard behind it as it steamed forward toward the nearest of the massive stone pillars that thrashed in the water. No fewer than seven other ships changed course and followed suit, falling in line. It would never hold still long enough, though. There was no chance. Even as relatively sluggish as it was, it could still move its leg faster than the fleet could compensate.

“Pinnnkiiiie...” Twilight said worriedly, but the other mare didn’t acknowledge her. She simply reached into her overcoat, and pulled out an umbrella.

Opal tentacles surged upward from below the water, and the hiss and grind of gears filled the air. The mighty spires of Kelantis breached the water's surface and soared upward into the midnight sky, crashing into the Star's carapace and lifting it, with considerable strain, sideways. The Star screamed its protest like steam hissing through vents and whistles. Legs held aloft by the massive mechanical palace crashed downward into its beautiful polished surfaces, and they exploded in showers of stone and metal. Up till now, Kelantis had been kept to the outskirts, assessing its chances and baiting the Star when it charged the lines too aggressively. Twilight swallowed hard. This was it. They were committing. One way or another, one of these two titans wasn’t coming out of this encounter in one piece.

Kelantis coiled its tendrils around the creature's legs, wrapping them in its unyielding mechanical grip. But its organic body could twist and writhe in ways the fixed joints of the mighty palace couldn’t compensate for. Cables snapped and twanged, gears ground and spun. Massive, ship-sized armored plates fell free of the mighty arms of the castle and splashed into the water below, sending ponies scrambling to adjust their bearings to compensate for incoming waves. But it was working. The thing thrashed and crushed, but couldn’t get away.

“ALL CANNONS,” Pinkie Pie roared, running backward and manning one herself, “OPEN FIRE!”

“Direct all fire toward the nearest leg!” Twilight yelled to her unicorns, sparking from ship to ship to ship in a dazzling display of rapid teleportation. “All fire! Not one ball misses!

Eight of Equestria's finest opened up with every bore they could bring to bare. Great ramps of magical manifestation curved and scooped from every stray shot. Twilight reinforced them, lending her talent to every ramp that wasn’t long enough, every curve that wasn’t the right angle.

They will hit, she told herself, they will ALL HIT.

And they all did.

A massive fissure, like the very plates of the earth splitting, opened in the creature's leg. It split upward toward the knee joint and all the way down to the bottom, and Kelantis strained its all into cracking the stone shell like a lobster. The resulting sound was so massive, Twilight could actually see the shockwave resonate over the water. The tentacle broke, its internal mechanisms having been pushed too far beyond their limits to maintain functionality. It fell into the water as ships both Equestrian and Kelpie steamed out of the way. But so did the Star's armor. The leg, at long last, was exposed. Ocean water spiraled upward in a roil, surging into the opening with so much force and aggression that Twilight could feel the Sunrise being drawn toward it like a whirlpool. Pinkie hadn't bothered with orders; she was already leaping through the door to the wheelhouse and bringing the listing ship around, throwing every ounce of thrust the Sunrise had left into a straight shot out as millions of gallons of furious sea forced upward into the rocky shell.

It was getting heavy. Twilight could see it leaning harder, its limbs moving slower. Full as it was with seawater, it no longer had the strength to move its own bulk. Pressure was building up inside it, and Twilight lent her magic to the cause, doing the best she could to reinforce the wake rollers that were force feeding ocean into the breech. Her magic added energy to their actions, and her unicorn teams followed her lead. She could hear cracking and thrashing from inside the beast. Leaks sprang like geysers from its armored hull, and pegasus pony air teams fired lightning bolts at them, conducting the electricity in through the armor that had so casually shrugged them off before. Something inside was screaming, and Twilight Sparkle savored the sound.

“Come out, come oooout...” she muttered through gritted teeth. And all at once, in a deluge of stone and water, the igneous shell split at its seams, and exploded.

“TAKE COVER!” Pinkie Pie roared, and Twilight shielded the deck of the Sunrise with a magical barrier. Her unicorns assisted her, and the smaller shrapnel was shrugged aside. But the larger...

“Uh… Piiinkie...?” Twilight swallowed.

She could see it coming. A piece larger than the ship itself, hanging in the night sky, falling in perfect trajectory. There was no avoiding it, and the shield stood no chance of stopping it. Twilight wondered, for the briefest of moments, if there would be books in the afterlife. She did hope so. Worlds of books. It seemed an appropriate paradise.

Luna collided with the incoming meteor beside no fewer than thirty Pegasus Guard. Their mighty wings offset the projectile's course, sending it flipping end over end and landing off to the Sunrise's port side. The resulting wave didn't pick up its full size and energy until it had passed under the ship, but for a sickening moment, Twilight found herself gripping the rail and staring downward into the ocean, from the deck. When the vessel righted itself, it was all she could do to not be launched from the side.

“SPARKLE!” Luna's voice sounded out over the crashing of waves. The massive mare slammed her hooves to the decking and helped the purple pony off the floor. Twilight was too disoriented to speak a response, but she coughed and nodded at the once-princess. Luna nodded back, and turned toward the wheelhouse. She looked like she was going to yell something up to Pinkie Pie, but her voice was cut off by a new sound rippling over the ocean. A sound like a million garbled voices screaming secrets in a forced whisper. It spanned the audio spectrum from the very height her ears could hear, to so low it threatened to vibrate her bones from her body. It sounded alien, so devoid of recognizable phonemes and structure that her mind manipulated it to make it sound more identifiable. Like hearing madness so profound you couldn’t help but try to understand it. Luna turned to face the new form that stood in the open water, now free of its stoney husk, and Twilight could see terrified recognition in her eyes. That, more than the sound itself, was bone chilling.

“Oh,” the great dark mare breathed softly, “there you are...”

=====================================================================

It was headed for the munitions depot.

Rainbow Dash grit her teeth and said a silent thank you to the goggles that kept the dirt and sweat from her eyes. She was coated in it, despite the Shadowbolts uniform's best efforts to keep her refreshed. Her wings screamed. She'd never flown this hard before. It was as though her muscles wanted to tear free of their tendons and plead for rest. She would ignore them, if she could, but it hurt too much.

So she powered on to spite them, instead.

“We have to change its direction!” Soarin yelled, and Rainbow nodded, though for the life of her she wasn’t sure how they were going to manage that.

“Let’s piss it off,” Spitfire seethed. She too had re-entered the fray, and Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but beam with pride at that. She was patched and bandaged, but the wounds had not been superficial. She needed a hospital. She was fighting to ensure there would still be one left to go to when it was finished. “Low through the breach. Try and find something squishy to ruin.”

The trio banked and dived hard, screaming inward toward the monstrosity below them. The griffin air bombardment had been devastating and underwhelming all at once. Three waves of brilliant, bomb-toting birds slamming their payloads home on the Star's back with knife's edge accuracy. It had been beautiful. Gultan had half expected the thing to fall to the floor, stone dead.

The attack had made a fissure in its rocky hide. And it was most soundly upset about it.

The tide of the battle had shifted dramatically after that point. The griffin army knew it was only going to have one shot at a completely coordinated attack like that one, and it hadn't been sufficient. Now they had to strike in waves, distracting while the others came back around, harrying the wound with smaller strikes and circling like vultures overhead. The air was thick with them, and that was proving problematic.

“LEFT SIDE!” Rainbow warned, banking hard toward the right as the Star hurled the better half of a city block upward into the air. She could hear the screeching of griffins banking out of the way, and the terrifying thuds of those who failed to do so, their screeches cut short. Dirt and rocks. That's all it was doing. Throwing dirt and rocks into the sky. And yet it was so brutally effective that Rainbow felt her heart in her throat every time one of the creature's armored limbs dug into the soil. It wasn’t just the throw, it was the return to earth. It was night, and the stones and dirt were dark, and as they fell from the sky they made no sound to speak of. Boulders rained like silent cannons, and you didn’t know one was on you until it was too late.

Rainbow veered in and down, dragging her griffin spear through the canyon-like crevasse in the Star's armor, searching for breaches. Left, right, left again, faster and rockier than any run through ghastly gorge she'd ever attempted. She could smell the thing, in there. Feel it moving the air as it shifted in its shell. She wanted to call it vile. She almost wished the scent was fetid. But it wasn’t. It was just… strange. Alien. She'd never smelled its like, and couldn’t find words to describe it, which chilled her all the further. If she survived this, by some miracle, she'd remember that smell the rest of her life.

“There...” Soarin said, pointing. A breach in the canyon. Something dark and glossy was moving under it, just out of sight. Shifting and spinning inside. A nearby bomb illuminated it, just for a second, and Rainbow and her company recoiled reflexively. She felt a small scream escape her throat, and clamped it down. An eye. An eye larger than a dozen ponies. It had looked at them.

“H..Here!” she stammered, finding her voice. “HERE! RIGHT HERE!”

Spitfire and Soarin yelled with her, each pointing frantically toward the breach in the armor. Griffins took notice. High above, Gultan was summoning up all wings still carrying bombs and redirecting them. Two dozen griffins, tired, bruised, but determined, formed up a wing with massive black bombs in tow. They turned a wide left and lined up for a dive, and Rainbow held her breath.

And then, just like that, they were gone.

The massive chunk of ground and stone that had been thrown from a leg clear on the other side of the Star collided with them, facing upward and outward toward the sea, and they were ripped from the air like flies to a swatter. They had yet to even light the fuses. They simply exited the sky, and Rainbow could see the silhouette of the boulders splash down some miles away. She couldn’t see the bodies.

“No...” Soarin whispered.

That had been it. Griffins were diving toward the munitions depot, situated high in a tree on a platform that spanned several, to re-arm and re-group, but no other wings in the sky still had explosives to drop. And the Star was nearly too them now. Trees shattered like glass under its massive limbs.

Rainbow Dash set her jaw.

With a powerful flap, she shot upward into the sky, leaving Spitfire and Soarin behind. The Wonderbolts yelled after her, but she didn't stop to explain. They couldn’t follow her in this, anyway. Plans had failed. It was time for good old fashioned desperate effort. She almost smiled at that. For some reason, it felt good to be back in her element. Higher. Higher. Above the range of the Star's throw, where the wind bit cold and threatened to ice the lenses in her goggles. Enchantment kept them clear, but she could see the steam pouring off her body, and the fog in her breath. It was dark up this high. Dark and silent. She savored that reprieve, for a few brief seconds, before leaning backwards and beginning to fall.

Her glare deepened as she kicked hard with her wings and stretched her body out. A million subconscious adjustments turned her shape into the most perfect arrow it could be. Tiny wing adjustments found the slips between the air with least resistance. She could feel it fighting her as she gained speed, forming a buffer just ahead of her hooves, threatening to fling her backward like a slingshot. She pushed harder, and angled toward her goal. That had been the key. Know where you were going. Know what you had to do. Know that failing wasn’t an option. What was a little thing like reality, in the face of necessity?

Irrelevant.

Gilda the griffin watched the air split in front of her friend some distance away as she picked up a fresh payload from the arming platform. She had to wince as light and color exploded outward from the pegasus pony's body in a wave of rainbow light just inside the fissure that had been blasted into the Star's back. It collided with the walls of the miniature canyon like waves crashing on a reef, and Rainbow shot forward into the breech, and out of sight.

“DASH!” Gilda screamed, dropping her unarmed payload and taking to the sky. She hadn't come out the bottom side. She was in there, somewhere. The mammoth creature was thrashing, howling, and stumbling in rage and insanity around the forest skirting the supply lines. She was inside it, somewhere, and it was none too happy about that. But that was no advantage on Rainbow's part. She could feel herself being smothered, the impossible weight of flesh and sinew baring down on her like all the pressure of the oceans as she lay suspended amid its enormous body. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe.

There was a second explosion. Gilda had to double-take to believe it. A second Sonic Rainboom. It detonated from some unseen source in the same area Dash's had, and its pressure wave finished what the first had started. The mighty shell cracked, the sound alone splintering the nearby treeline, and fell in shattered pieces from the monster's body. And out the bottom of the beast shot a line of brilliant yellow light that banked a hard turn before its momentum died off.

Fluttershy. With Rainbow Dash in her arms.

Rainbow's dazed eyes opened slowly, and caught sight of the yellow pony's pink mane stained a deep blue by the Star's ichor. She was smiling down at her, and Rainbow smiled lazily back.

“‘Bout… time...” she muttered.

Fluttershy smiled wider. “I had to ask for directions,” she responded apologetically, and the exhausted blue pony coughed, and laughed. Fluttershy set them down on the munitions platform next to Gilda, whose jaw had just about hit the floor. “Sorry I'm late,” Fluttershy said, brushing her hair from her eyes with a hoof. “Long… flight.”

“You...” Gilda stammered, and looked to Rainbow, who was pulling herself upright, “She...”

“... Is dramatically more impressive than she gives herself credit for,” Rainbow finished, and smiled at her friend, “and flew an awfully long way to pull my butt out of the fire. Thank you, Fluttershy.”

The yellow pony didn't hear her, however. She was looking back, toward the now exposed Star.

=====================================================================

Fancy had been right. It was a rather beautiful building.

Rarity stepped in through the golden doors and listened to the hollow sound of her hoof-falls on the polished marble floor. The gentle noise of small waterfalls into shallow pools filled her ears. And birdsong. There were birds in here, flitting to and fro amongst the branches of opal-white tree trunks with leaves in a myriad of brilliant colors. Frosted skylights would have lit the whole foyer into brilliant daylight had their been any sun to shine on it. For now, it was dark, but lit along the ponds and pathways with soft orbs of floating light.

“Hello?” she called out, softly at first. No response came, save for the echo of her voice around unseen hallways. “I'm, uh… I'm Princess Rarity.” The introduction sounded lame, even to her. She swallowed and put aside her awkwardness. “Is anypony here? I'm trying to find something, I need help.”

The birds that were sleeping made a few noises of protest and went back to their naps. Rarity made a face and stepped further down the path. Was it empty? Did harems keep regular hours? That seemed somewhat contradictory to the intended purpose of the structure. She wished Fluttershy had stayed with her, if only to bounce ideas off of, but the frantic yellow pony had only arrived in Canterlot for a moment, long enough to tell Rarity where she was going and get a boost in that direction via distance teleport. Rarity had never teleported a pony before. She didn’t even know how to, a few days ago. It made her smile a little. Another little gift from Twilight. She only hoped the other unicorn was finding her influence as useful.

She stopped at a planter in the middle of a crossroads and looked with puzzlement at its rim. There was a folded piece of paper there, sitting on its own. No title, no address, just sitting, folded neatly. She extended a hoof and pushed the fold open, squinting to read the words within it.

be Naked.

Rarity blinked. Be naked? Really? She was already naked! It was a harem, everypony was probably naked! She almost hurled the paper away in agitation. For some unexplainable reason, she'd almost hoped it was the spell she was looking for, sitting right there waiting for her. Desperation made her pick it up and read it again, turning it around a few times to look for something, anything, to suggest some hidden message. Nothing was forthcoming. She growled and dropped it back on the stone, sitting in a huff next to it.

“Be naked,” she grumbled.

But that wasn't what it had said.

She blinked, and looked at it again. The ‘be’ wasn’t capitalized. The ‘Naked’ was. As though it were a proper noun. Didn't mean anything, really. Could just be a habit of the one who wrote it. But something gnawed at her, and it wasn't Twilight's memories. Twilight would have dismissed it by now, and begun a systematic search of the building. Rarity even knew where to start, and how to proceed. She could see the whole process as clearly as if Twilight had written it up for her. But her own, romantically inclined mind was fixated on the little message that lay before her. It tickled the part of her that read romance novels and dreamed of being swept off her hooves by princes. It meant something.

be Naked.

She wasn’t, was she. When she thought about it. She was never. Every moment of the day, she wore some mask of dignity and appearance. Now she wore a title to go with it. ‘Princess.’ Luna spoke in the royal plural because it represented her attachment to her nation. She was never alone; she was Equestria. Celestia had dropped that in lieu of contemporary language, but the meaning, the notion, was still there. She was her title. She was Princess. She was never anything less grand than that. Except, perhaps, in here.

Where she could be Naked.

Rarity closed her eyes, and breathed slowly. Bit by bit, she dropped her shields. The feints, the drama, all the little things she did to carefully craft her public image. She let them go. She allowed herself to be empty. The real her, not the crafted facade that served as Rarity the designer. She set that aside, in a little box in the corner of her mind, and became Rarity the pony. Not even that, she realized. She stepped into the darkness of her link to Twilight, an emptiness she'd avoided for its loneliness up until now, and pushed all that she was aside. No shield. No protection. Just her, naked and vulnerable. And she waited. Alone, in the dark.

And a rather remarkable thing occurred.

Tiny points of light appeared before her closed eyelids. Little souls, huddled in a dark field of night-like black. She could see the faces of each one, scattered through the night. They were alone. Each little body hung in a clear ball of bubble-like crystal, dispersed through her infinite vision like stars in the sky. They hung low and sad on her horizon, and trembled. Ponies. Frightened ponies, each of them. If she listened, she could hear them speaking to her. They wanted her help.

Tears streamed down Rarity's cheeks. She could hear them all, pleading for salvation. Not with actual words, but with feeling. Wishes for support, for guidance. Wishes she could only understand because she'd felt them already, interpreted them through Twilight's link. But the scale of this, the immensity... She wanted to hug them. She wanted to bundle them all together as one and lift their softly glowing hearts high and show them it would be alright. She wanted to give them everything she was so that they could rise to be everything they could be. One, collective point of brilliant light amid the clear blue sky.

And all at once, she realized: She could.

=====================================================================

It stood taller than before, with its supporting limbs under it rather than outward to the side. In the dark of the night, it was difficult to make out its details, but its flesh was smooth and glossy, and colored a bluish teal that would no doubt shine vibrantly in direct light. Massive, coiling tentacles extruded from five points on its body, but they would split and join at random intervals, as though they were solid and malleable at the same time. And eyes; great, brilliant, gleaming eyes riddled the mass that made its body. They would blink, and become mouths, the eyeball vanishing only to reappear a moment later when it blinked again. Great toothy maws that spoke. They SPOKE. Twilight could see the massive lips moving in the dim light, forming maddening alien words and speaking them out over the water. Gone was the animal howling, replaced by squirming sounds and bone-shaking whispers so foreign that they seemed to turn around in her brain and snag at the corners of her thoughts.

She wished the howling would come back.

The nearest ship took aim and fired at it, using its momentary stillness. A dozen cannonballs soared toward the core of its body. But it moved. With startling grace, it shifted its orientation and every last one sailed by, above or below. It had never exhibited near that level of speed and agility before. Another volley, from the other side. It shifted, extending upward on two powerful tentacles like some twisted dancer as the salvo sailed past it, nearly hitting an Equestrian ship on the other side. One of its eyes, massive and gleaming in its bulbous body, blinked. The ship before it exploded. Twilight didn't see a projection. No beam, nothing to dodge or deflect. But the water between the Star and the ship had leaped upward as though displaced by some moving object. A projectile so fast as to defy her visual acuity.

It turned and faced the shape of Kelantis, now struggling to right itself. It had taken devastating damage while it grappled the creature, and was attempting to compensate. But with the Star's new mobility, the mechanical marvel's attempts to snag it fell hopelessly short. It circled the damaged form of the once-mighty city like some twisted carrion bird, and all at once, explosions began riddling its surface. Detonation after detonation exploded outward as the Star focused its gaze on the ancient city.

All at once, the urgency surged. Ships steamed forward, trying their best to advance without drawing the baleful eyes of the Star. Nopony knew its range at this stage, but Kelantis was being kicked into the seabed. Kelpies in the water were seething, trying to assault the smooth hide of the creature with waves. But it wasn’t solid enough to strike against, not with Kelantis itself serving as an enormous break-water. Air support, thought Twilight. Now was the time for air support.

“Luna!” she yelled toward the mighty alicorn. “Luna, we need lightning! It’s not shelled anymore, hit it from above!”

Luna and her team pushed air below them as the shot upward into the dark clouded sky. It roiled with thunder and flashed, pent up and eager to release. Lightning had proved of little consequence against the Star's rock-like shell. But now...

Thunder that dwarfed the cannonfire rained brilliant blue and purple on the Star's flesh, and it howled in agony. Dodging cannons was one thing; it wasn’t dodging this. Bolt after bolt lanced from the skyline and seared ribbons of agony across its body. The deck of the Sunrise erupted in cheers. They were hurting it! At long last, they were finally hurting it.

The Star immediately redirected its attention to the sky, swinging massive tentacles through the clouds and sending ponies scattering. But Luna pressed the advantage. When a tentacle breached the cloudline, pegasus ponies stayed behind and stomped the storm cells. The cloud lit up like a nightlight and sent waves of electricity coursing through the monster and into the water below. Kelpies tore off in every direction, putting distance between themselves and the point of impact. They weren’t fond of electricity, but they weren’t about to voice complaint when the tactic was working.

The Star recoiled in agony, and pockets of flesh exploded from it. Wisps of some sort drifted free of the wounds, but Twilight couldn't make out their shapes in the dark. But they had shapes. It wasn’t just gas or smoke; it was a thing. They seeped from the wound and floated skyward, as though escaping into the night sky. One of the creature's massive eyes fixated on them, and blinked, becoming a mouth. The vaporous shape was sucked inside like a vacuum, and the wounds on the creature's flesh began to close.

“No...” Twilight said, “no no nonoNONONO! PINKIE!” she screamed up at the wheelhouse. “WE CAN'T LET IT DO THAT!”

Pinkie Pie kicked the throttle forward once again and gave a silent prayer for the ship to hold together. It had already performed well above and beyond what it ever should have. Finest in the fleet. Pinkie didn't even know what other ships were in the fleet. It hardly mattered.

“What are you planning?” the pink pony asked, and Twilight looked around frantically.

“I don't know! I..I… We need to see what its eating!” she settled on that as a course of action. “If we can keep it from re-absorbing what its losing, I don't think it can heal itself!”

The supposition was based on cursory observation alone, but it was all she had, and Pinkie nodded.

“ALRIGHT YOU WORMS!” she bellowed, “TO KELANTIS!”

The Sunrise howled forward, protected by the creature's struggle with the clouds above. Choppy as the sea was, it was all the ship could do to get close to the hull of the battered castle, which now lay motionless above the waterline. Twilight fizzled out of reality and reappeared on one of the shattered battlements, as high as she could manage. She zapped from platform to platform, working her way to the highest point she could stand on, and stared outward toward the writhing monster's wounds as it continued to fire upward at the clouds, dispersing them with blasts of water while lightning rained down on it. She could see the shapes now. See them, but not… understand them.

A stuffed doll? Twilight blinked and looked again. A ghostly, vaporous stuffed doll. Looked like a zebra. And beside it, an image of several ponies, smiling together next to a fireplace. Floating above it, away toward the sky, was the ghostly visage of a Hearth's Warming tree and presents in layers below it. Twilight shook her head violently, looking to another wound. Gaseous visions of everything from new apple carts to ponies entwined in coitus were seeping like leaks from the creature's open wounds, and it was trying to snatch them back up.

“What-”

“Wishes,” came a voice from behind her.

Twilight spun and gasped. Princess Aurora was sitting, coiled and injured, on the control throne to the mighty palace. She didn’t get up when Twilight ran to her. Twilight wasn’t sure she could.

“What did you say?” the little pony whispered.

“They’re wishes, Twilight Sparkle,” the serpentine, coral princess replied, looking at Twilight through one undamaged eye. “Every wish made upon a star in the sky.”

She breathed slow and even, and Twilight felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.

“We've been feeding them,” the pony whispered. “All this time, we've been feeding them. They sustain off our wishes...”

She was shaken to the very core. They had handed these creatures this power. They'd been giving it to them since time immemorial. How many times had she herself gazed up at the night sky and wished for something. A test to pass. A book to read. A friend to talk to. And all that time, she'd been feeding… this. Her eyes closed and her breath caught in her throat.

Princess Aurora slowly smiled. The purple pony in front of her was dazed. Empty. So full of tumultuous emotion that she no longer knew how to focus it. Shards of so many feelings, so many hurts, so much trauma over so short a time, had piled to their very highest point within her. She couldn’t see anymore. She was just a pile of broken pieces.

Or kindling. Kindling, waiting to spark.

“Are you going to let it, Twilight Sparkle?” she asked in a low, harsh voice.

Twilight's eyes opened, devoid of their irises. Pale pools of white, that burned like fire.

“No.”

Pinkie Pie and three other ponies were hauling Applejack out of the wreckage of the Sunrise. It had seen its last; battered against Kelopolis by the motion of the waves. Pinkie was sobbing, pressing against her friend's chest to force the water from her lungs with rhythmic pulses. She'd been in the hold the entire time, working miracles. Patching holes with nothing but scrap and brute strength, holding back the ocean with will and legs alone. She'd sealed door after door, plugged leak after leak, and hauled trapped ponies from the bilge. They had said she moved like a freight train, slamming the ship back together with sheer force of will every time it threatened to give way. She'd been there to the end, and when the last of the lower decks filled with water, she'd stayed, and worked with the kelpies to pump it back out again. For as long as she physically could.

Longer.

She coughed hard, sputtering out ocean into Pinkie's face. The pink pony hardly seemed to care, and clung close to her friend, who coughed fiercely. Pinkie held her at arms length and smiled through her tears.

“How do you feel?” she asked, through stifled laughs.

Applejack coughed and smiled weakly. “... Honestly?”

They chuckled, and embraced again.

“Pinkie,” Applejack said quietly.

Pinkie leaned back, and saw the other pony looking up. She followed her gaze high above, to a single point of light hovering in the sky. Twilight was held aloft in an unearthly glow, suspended out and beyond the fractured balcony of the Kelantis control throne. Her eyes were white, and the Element of Magic sat clear as day upon her head. The Star stopped attacking the clouds, and turned, just slightly, to face her with all its vile vision. A hulking, monstrous shadow in the night.

“The sun...”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie looked toward the east, at Twilight's back. Light. Brilliant, golden, glowing light breaking on the horizon. It crept over the distant mountains and bathed the clouds and sea with its glow. For the first time in some two days, Equestria turned and faced the sunrise. Its luminous beams bathed Twilight as she hung in mid air, and all at once, with such ferocity as to make the Star stagger backward, the purple pony snarled, and burst into voluminous flame.

“YOU CANNOT HAVE THEM.” She roared, and fires laced with righteous indignation flashed from her mouth. “OUR WISHES. OUR HOPES. OUR DREAMS. OUR LAND. OUR WORLD! THEY WERE NEVER YOURS TO STEAL!”

The Star howled as the sunlight hit it and lit it up into full view for the first time. Vibrant blues and teals made up its body, veined with vicious reds and spotted with vibrant, glistening yellow eyes that all moved independent of each other, but were all fixated on Twilight. It swung a massive arm, one of many that had batted the ships of the line aside like so many annoying insects. It incinerated. Burned from existence within twenty feet of the pony. The Star pulled back a cauterized stump, and for the first time since its arrival, it was entirely silent. The Firemare was reflected in every one of its eyes.

“Begone,” she hissed.

It was as though a volcano had erupted from the core of her being. Flame so thick it seemed to have mass and body surged out of the air before her and slammed in pillar as wide as a warship into the monster's body. It staggered, screamed, tried to escape, but the massive mechanical arms of Kelantis roared out of their slumber and snagged it, holding it riveted in place. It shook and howled, tearing the once great mechanisms apart in its struggle, but it wasn’t fast enough. It was as though the hope and determination of all of Equestria was coiled into that raging inferno. It shown with every color of the rainbow, and with an explosion of ancient wishes and long forgotten dreams, it erupted out the other side of the Star. Its tremendous limbs fell slack, and its husk, ripped asunder by the fires of Twilight's fury and the will of the nation of Harmony, came apart at the seams. A million vaporous wishes floated gently upward into the morning sky.

=====================================================================

Dawn had reached the Eastern shore faster than it had the west, and with it came salvation of its own. Shapes in the distance. Massive, heavy shapes that cast shadows across the landscape and the shattered forces of the griffin defensive. Dragons.

Celestia stood astride the largest of the lot; a massive golden red beast large enough to support her on its brow. She had a beautiful gleaming scimitar of conjured magic extending off her horn, and her face spoke of hell in her wake.

“Fire,” she growled.

Hundreds. Hundreds of dragons. Every possible mighty lizard that could take to the sky. They opened their mouths and flame vomited forth from their bodies, with the sun burning brilliantly at their backs. The now unarmored Star brought up its blue arms in defense, but was bombarded by burning pitch and magical impacts. The griffins cheered, their morale boosted by the light of the sun and the sudden appearance of these most mighty of allies. Every wing that could still carry explosives took the the air, and swooped in low for one final run. The Star no longer had an avenue of escape, pinned as it was by the salvo of dragonflame. Griffin bombs ripped flesh out of its hide, shattered golden eyes, and sent billowing masses of strange imagery upward toward the clouds. It howled, bloodied and torn, toward its assailants, but its howl trickled off as one of its few remaining eyes turned and fixated on the dragons. They had arrived. All of them.

Princess Celestia stood upon the brow of a friend she'd known for almost two thousand years, and gazed outward on the carnage the Star had wrought to the landscape surrounding them. Her scowl turned back to the Star, and it almost seemed to shrink from it.

She said nothing. She merely nodded.

Every dragon in the ring that now encircled the great terror opened its burners to full. Rainbow could feel the heat so powerfully from her location that she, Gilda and Fluttershy had to abandon it. Griffins fled from the fire zone, dropping anything, everything, they had onto the flames. Metal incinerated and rained in molten form upon the smothered foe enshrouded in flames. Unexploded munitions detonated under it. The onslaught continued for a solid minute before trickling off.

When it had ended, nothing remained.

16. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

“It’s not a bad view,” Windswept said with a shrug. “I mean, as far as views go. Look! You can see the docks and stuff.”

Princess Aurora huffed, and slithered to the railing of the slightly off-kilter palace of Kelantis. Her injuries were departing, pulled from her body by the magic of the Chaosium and cast aside like minor inconveniences. She'd have fixed herself sooner, but there was the little issue of sparking the Firemare. A little visual aid went a long way when one was attempting to layer on the perceived danger.

The fight had taken them farther inland over the course of the night than anypony had really realized, and as the daylight had finally illuminated the landscape and the horror of the sky had at long last dissipated, the fractured remains of both navies found themselves pushed to the within a stones throw of Mustang Marina's outer border. That was miles of ocean. Landfall just outside Equestria's capital was a damn sight nearer than any of them would ever care to admit to.

Kelantis, as far as Princess Aurora was concerned, had emerged intact. That was padding the truth somewhat; the palace was fractured and battered, and the mechanical arms and mighty pumps that propelled them were a twisted, ruined mess. It was no longer seaworthy. It was barely even capable of keeping its own lights on at the moment. But it was still standing (mostly) upright, and that, to Aurora, was good enough. Damage could be repaired. It just took time. She had plenty of that.

“We're going to have to do something about the name.” The coral colored Princess said with a disapproving huff.

“Mustang… Marina?” Windswept asked, confused. “What's wrong with that?”

Princess Aurora snorted again and waved a large flipper out over the now brilliant colors that made up the U shaped port. “It’s too… Equestrian,” she said. “Mustang. We don't even use that word. Celestia probably tacked it on here so she could give her warships more machismo.” She crossed her fins and drummed their finger-like protrusions against the railing. “It’s going to have to change. Everypony associates it with the naval docks. We're going to be pinned here a while, and I won't have it feel like we're staring down their cannons every day in the meantime.”

Windswept allowed a tiny smile to creep into the corner of her lips as she looked at her brooding mentor. “They weren’t put there to shoot at kelpies,” she said, “if that's what you're getting at.”

Princess Aurora narrowed her eyes at the shipyards. “No,” she muttered absently, “I imagine not.”

Windswept had to put a flipper to her mouth to stifle her laughter, and gazed out over the cool blues and vibrant greens of the shoreline. What remained of the Equestrian Navy had limped to home, and kelpies had helped usher in flights of survivors on makeshift rafts fashioned from the debris. Both species were intermingling in the surf and sand now, helping to move in supplies, exchanging stories of the battle. Laughing. Embracing. Coexisting. War had bound them together, and the bond was a strong one. For the first time in eons, pony and kelpie were leaving marks on the same beach.

“Horseshoe Bay?” Windswept suggested. Princess Aurora made a face. It was horseshoe shaped, after all. Still, it felt like a… concession. “We'd be their guests,” Windswept added. “They're very kind to their guests.”

Princess Aurora turned from the fractured rail of the control throne room and slid back into the shade, brushing her fin over the ancient walls as she moved.

“Horseshoe Bay,” she called back, and Windswept grinned.

Twilight Sparkle put her hoof to Canterlot's newly patched palace door, its fresh paint still gleaming in the new day's light, and paused. Just for a moment. Just to catch her breath.

The moment could have lasted hours, and it wouldn’t have been long enough.

She'd hugged her goodbyes to Windswept some hours ago, and to each of the unicorns who had served with her. She'd learned some of their names for the very first time, right there on the beach. Strange thing, to owe so much, or think so highly, of ponies you didn’t even know the names of.

They knew her's, though. All of them did.

She had insisted that Windswept visit Ponyville, legitimately, as soon as she could break away from the mountainous work that now waited for her. Windswept had glowed so brightly at the invitation that Twilight had sworn it a second sunrise. She'd made a friend. Despite all odds, she'd made a friend. With the same mare who had not twenty four hours ago knocked her into a river and sent her unconscious over a waterfall.

One more point for the magic of friendship.

She turned her weary head toward her friends. Applejack and Pinkie Pie were behind her, to the left and right respectively, both tired, messy, but aglow with a sort of silent inner light. The radiance of success. Of victory, over impossible odds. They looked back at her, bruised and tired, and smiled. Neither said anything. Neither needed to. Words would do the feeling no justice, and there was no magic required for the three of them to share it. A soft little laugh spread through the trio. Not at anything specific. Just there, echoed in the memories of a thousand shared jokes and years of close friendship, and the euphoria of a job finally completed.

Twilight felt a tear on her cheek, and reached up to see if it was in fact hers, or yet another feeling echoed back from Rarity. It took her a moment to recall that the link was gone and the Element of Magic was once again atop her own head, but it didn’t dismay her. She had a funny feeling, magic link or not, that Rarity knew just how she felt. They all did.

Princess Luna smiled at them from behind, and indulged them their moment. She reacted with mild surprise when she too was pulled into a hug, but she accepted it appreciatively. The four of them breathed a silent, collective sigh, before letting go.

“Where did you get the admiral uniform, Pinkie?” Applejack asked suddenly, almost as though she'd only just now deemed it safe to approach the subject.

Pinkie Pie beamed. “That's nothin',” she replied, “you should be asking where I keep the cannon!”

Twilight smiled wide, and resisted her laughter, lest she not be able to stop herself from succumbing to hysterics. They were all just the slightest bit unstable; systems flooded with adrenaline, fear, and the rush of success. It was all she could do to not break out in laughter and never stop again. Or tears. The other ponies knew the feeling, and they smiled too, and nodded at the door. Twilight lifted her hoof to it once again, and pushed.

The sound of stamping hooves greeted them like a flood, slowly growing from a low rumble to a tremendous thunder as every pony on every balcony of every wall erupted in momentous applause, stomping the floor with their hooves and raising their voices in cheer. The magnitude of their salute was overwhelming. Twilight could feel it rattle her very bones, and push her mouth into the biggest smile she'd ever worn. And for the life of her, she couldn’t stop. Every face in the crowd beamed their appreciation toward her. Every pony, rich, poor, big and small, regardless of breed or standing, was cheering. Hugging each other, weeping openly, and casting their bottomless gratitude at her muddy, purple hooves. Never in her life had Twilight Sparkle felt so completely loved.

“Somehow,” Luna spoke softly, audible only to the three little ponies above the din, “it makes it all worth it.”

Twilight didn’t get to respond. A blue blur from behind sent her, Pinkie Pie and Applejack sprawling in a mass across the carpet as Rainbow Dash howled in from the still open, damaged palace roof. She pulled the three other ponies into a hug so tight it made Twilight's back pop, and she returned it in kind. Fluttershy arrived moments afterward with a slightly more graceful approach, and Applejack yanked her into the group as she voiced tiny protests of embarrassment. The five of them embraced on the floor in silence and solidarity, and the roars and cheers of a hero's welcome rumbled to stones of the palace foundation around them.

“Ahem.”

A voice from the doorway behind them, soft but solid, somehow cut through the cheering, and an awed hush fell over the palace. Celestia, blemished by sweat, mud and ash, but nonetheless beautiful and powerful in stature, walked a few steps past the threshold and smiled. “You ladies are ignoring your Princess,” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice, and nodded toward the shattered steps to the throne. Twilight and her friends turned upward, and saw a familiar face smiling back at them. Twilight had thought her smile had reached the physical limits of her face. As it turned out, it had not.

Princess Rarity stood at the top of the fractured stairway, freshly cleared of rubble and debris. She too was smiling giddily, an expression Twilight recognized on her face despite the new features and size of her enlarged body. It was so different, so alien, to see a new pony standing in Celestia's spot. But she beamed with a radiance appropriate to her title, and when she took to the steps, the ponies in the room bowed to her. She cast a humored grin toward Applejack, who scoffed a laugh.

“You'd best forget it,” Applejack said. “I'll never. You'd never let me live it down.”

“Pleeease?” Rarity pleaded in a small voice, “I've got the crown and everything! Just this once! It’s even legitimate!”

“She is the Princess,” Celestia said to Applejack, a sly grin on her face, “It’s only right.” She looked toward the gleaming image of Princess Rarity before her and gave a respectful bow, which brought a collection of gasps from the gallery, including Rarity herself.

“Oh, no! Princess, I-”

“Rarity,” Celestia said behind a light giggle, “you don't get to be Princess of Equestria every day. Live it up while you have it.”

Princess Rarity bit her tongue and blushed, her smile growing all the wider as, one by one, Twilight, Pinkie, Fluttershy and Rainbow all dipped respectfully before her. They wore amused grins, and looked expectantly at Applejack. The earth pony whimpered like a scolded dog, and dipped down to join them.

“She’s right, you know,” Princess Rarity whispered between tiny fits of quiet laughter, “I'll never let her live it down.”

“As her friend,” Celestia replied, standing again, “I'd expect nothing less.”

Princess Rarity laughed, and her voice cracked just slightly. It was as though she'd finally dropped all the weight off her saddle. She knelt to the floor, abandoning the royal image entirely and embracing her friends, now significantly smaller than she was.

“Thank you,” she stammered, voice choked with tears. “Thank every one of you.”

She didn't let go until Celestia put a gentle hoof on her shoulder, and smiled down at her. Princess Rarity swallowed back a sob and smiled back, nodding. She stood and turned toward the stairway, but doubled back one last time to embrace the group, who giggled as she hopped forward a few steps to make up for the delay. Celestia waited at the bottom of the stairs, and had to put her hoof over her mouth to restrain her laughter.

There was only one thing left to do.

“As… ruler of Equestria,” Princess Rarity said aloud toward the assembled throng of ponies, her friends, and her compatriots. “I hereby name Celestia my successor to the throne...”

She paused for a breath. Not unlike the pause Twilight had made just outside the door. A tiny moment of reflection. She saw the looks on the faces of the ponies she loved. Tired, but proud. Proud of her, proud of themselves, proud of their world and what they had done for it. She saw that look mirrored in every pair of eyes in the palace, each and every pony ready for the triumphant return of their familiar leader, and the final dismissal of the horrors that had come to haunt them in the night. She wondered, briefly, how her short stay on the throne would be remembered. If she'd done a good job, or if she should have done things differently. If she'd helped enough. But when her eyes settled on Celestia, the alicorn smiled at her, and Rarity felt the assurance in that gaze.

She had done just fine.

“... and I release my title as Princess.”

A brilliant golden glow flourished around Rarity's body and coiled upward into the sky, crashing downward upon Celestia and billowing outward in a plume of radiance that washed over the assembly like a wave. When it cleared, Rarity stood at her normal size, the Element of Generosity still on her neck, but the crown of Equestria absent from her brow. And down at the foot of the stairs, restored to her full glory, stood Princess Celestia.

The cheering and rampant applause seemed to echo across every corner of Equestria. The princess, their princess, was back. At long last, all the broken pieces were back together.

“I, um...” Rarity coughed as she met the princess on the stairs, “hope I did alright with the sun.”

Princess Celestia laughed audibly, and embraced the little white unicorn with a wing.

“Perfectly, little one,” she whispered. “Perfectly.”

As Rarity descended the stairway with her back to the window, Princess Celestia cast a clandestine glance to the sun hanging in the sky, and scrunched her nose just a smidgen, giving the slightest nod to the side. The sun hopped, just the littlest bit, to the left, and the Princess smiled. Just about perfect, anyway. Rarity didn’t need to know.

The white pony arrived at the bottom of the stairs as Celestia arrived at the top, and turned to face her subjects. Her wings rose, and the cheering rose with them. The six little ponies at the bottom of the stairway sat in one unbroken line, and beamed as the Princess directed the applause to them. Twilight caught Rarity's eye, and grinned at her.

She was pretty certain they were sharing the same feeling. And so was everypony else.

Rainbow Dash sat under the tall willow on the hill on the outskirts of Apple Acres and watched her friends lay out blankets and bring out food. They'd won. It was still… a little tricky, getting used to that.

Word had come down the line that the Sphinxes had successfully repelled their assailant as well, and all of Canterlot had stood at the edge of the Canterlot Falls and watched as the final Star, far off in the distance among the wilds of the Everfree, had lifted off the ground and soared upward into the sky, where it had vanished. As hoped, it had chosen not to press the advance. It was outnumbered. And, more than that, it was frightened. This was not the world they had been promised. This was a world of strength, and of unity, and of purpose. And for all their power, they were ill-equipped to fight that.

They were still up there, hanging in a four pointed constellation around the moon, barely visible in the afternoon sun. Fluttershy had asked worriedly about that, but the princess had shaken her head and smiled. She wasn’t certain they could really, ever, truly be destroyed. Much like the Elements of Harmony themselves, they were eternal. But they could be beaten. And it would be a very, very long time before they forgot that lesson.

Twilight was chatting cheerfully with Applejack as the pair of them carted apples out of the barn for fresh squeezing. Fluttershy was sitting on the checkered cloth that made for the floor of the picnic area with Gilda, who was regaling Pinkie Pie with the heroic tale of the yellow pegasus pony's dive to save her friend. Rainbow smiled. She could see Fluttershy's blush from even this distance. Big Macintosh was still apologizing to an irate Apple Bloom for not telling her he was somewhat intrinsic to the running of Equestria and insisting she stay quiet about it. He was arranging food for the girls, and would periodically stop at Applejack's side and check to see if she was alright. Rainbow knew he'd never forgive himself if anything had happened to her, and felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew he'd have wanted to be by his sister's side when the stars fell. But then, Applejack would have never forgiven herself had anything happened to him, either.

And, despite any jests by Windswept to the contrary, she was the stronger swimmer.

Spike had been running laps between everypony he could find, demanding every detail from every angle as he sat in rapt attention. He'd been overseeing the reconstruction of the library, trying to make use of every second Twilight had been absent so he could feel productive, and keep himself from dwelling on the danger she was in. Rarity had complimented him on his attention to detail. Rainbow had almost had to secure him with a rope to keep him from floating off adrift after that.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had been giggling with Rarity all afternoon. A princess. A real princess! Even if it was just for a day, it was every little filly's dream come true. Just about, anyway. Rainbow smiled as she looked at the golden goggles in her lap, and watched the setting sun gleam off the insignia of the Shadowbolts emblazoned upon them. She'd hung up the uniform, but she wasn't ready to part with the goggles. Not quite yet, anyway.

“Rainbow,” came Rarity's voice behind her.

She looked up from her silent contemplation and blinked. “Hmm?”

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked, pointing toward the picnic.

Rainbow blinked again, as though coming back to reality. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah… I'll be right there.”

Rarity stood quietly for a moment and looked out over the hill beside her polychromatic friend. When she spoke again, it was in a more personal tone.

“You never did tell her, did you.” she said. Less a question than a statement of fact.

Rainbow remained quiet, her eyes fixated at the group below her, frolicking off in the distance.

“You could,” Rarity continued gently. “No time like the present.”

Rainbow maintained her stillness for a few moments more, before rising to her hooves and stretching her wings.

“Nah,” she said, smiling a bit as she began her trot down the hill. “It can wait.”

----------------------------------------------- The End -----------------------------------------------

00. Prologue

An eye watched the purple pony from the cold waters of the Canterlot canal as she clopped lightly down the cobblestone streets of Equestria's royal city. Not an eye by any pony standard; at least none that an Equestrian citizen would recognize. A clear eye, made of domed water, no more noticeable than a bubble on the surface. It viewed the world through a fisheye lens, and focused its one clear image in on Twilight Sparkle, as it had for months now. The cheerful unicorn hadn't noticed. She was too busy chatting cheerfully with her herd of friends, all of whom had exited the palace theater not minutes before, only to be enveloped in a clamoring crowd of congratulatory ponies celebrating their recent performance of the founding of Equestria. A tale of harmony and unity. A collection of the finest examples of overcoming adversity through friendship. A classic.

A lie.

Well, not entirely, but by now the owner of the domed eye that swam silently through the snow-graced waters of Canterlot's deep waterways had seen the play run and rerun a dozen times through the city's streets... and had grown annoyed at its glaring oversights. The reason for the deception was clear enough, but that didn't make it sting any less. Especially considering what was coming. Especially considering who was coming.

Because it had a name now, where it hadn't before; the dark, silent threat descending from the sky that had been foreseen in the frigid depths of the oceans and hidden away from the frightened eyes of the public. It wasn't vaporous any longer. It had shape, substance, a mind, a will, and a cold, ancient power. And the little, cheerful purple pony still blushing from the attention of an adoring crowd, now dispersed, had no idea how pivotal she was to stopping it.

The glistening orb of liquid fidgeted and winked in the water, as though troubled or pained. Its owner's expression, shrouded in the dark of the deepest parts of Canterlot's expansive water systems, felt likewise. The time for observation was ending, and the next task was far less… passive. The faces of Twilight's friends, all beaming with smiles and holiday laughter, swooped into view of the domed threshold of the eye, one by one. Each was examined individually, sized up by the eye's controller, assessed, and ultimately, silently apologized to. Because it had come to know each of them well over the past months. It cared for them. Liked them. Loved them. And very soon, it was going to meet them, and tell them what they had to do.

Nothing could scare it more.

10. Rescue

Twilight swallowed down her panic and tried again, focusing on clearing the haze in her brain. Nothing. Not a peep of Rarity. The space in her mind where Twilight could once peer through to see the words and thoughts of her friend seemed gone now, not so much a vacant void as simply nonexistent. It was like looking for something without eyes; she lacked the tools required to see. It was frightening and worrying and disorienting and terribly, terribly normal. The bond had terminated. Twilight was once again alone in her own head.

She had a feeling she should be happy about that. She wasn’t.

The fact that she wasn't in a disoriented delirium told her that the bond had likely severed of its own accord, brought on by Rarity's transformation. The sequence of events leading up to the sudden disappearance of the other pony's mind were a bit of a blur in Twilight's memory. She was fairly certain she knew what had happened, but despite having mental footnotes from a first hand source, she wasn't sure she could believe it. Rarity… a princess? Fully grown and with royal authority? Twilight didn't know such a thing was even possible, and yet by all rights, her friend was probably sitting on Canterlot's throne right now. No doubt clad in the first royal dress ever designed by the princess herself. The idea made her smile, but also brought to mind the idea of adornment, and the fact that despite the link having finally dismissed itself, Twilight still didn't have the Element of Magic back. She'd expected it to return when she and Rarity we no longer linked by it, and its continued absence wasn't doing much for the state of her worry.

“You’re sure she's alright?” Applejack asked. She had served as a liaison between Twilight and the bridge, as the unicorn was unwilling to leave Windswept bound on the floor without some form of friendly company, and Fluttershy wasn't much of a conversationalist. With little to report from topside save for horror stories of Pinkie Pie reciting sea shanties with lyrics the likes of which Twilight had never imagined, Applejack had recently returned to check up on the pair, just in time for Twilight's cry of alarm when her link to the white unicorn went dead. Both ponies had stepped out of the cargo hold and onto the lower decks in a futile attempt to boost Twilight's reception, and had little to show for their effort.

“Yeah, I think so,” Twilight replied. “There was no immediate threat when it happened. Rainbow and Luna were both with her. It must have had something to do with the transfer of royalty.”

“I didn't even think you could DO that,” Applejack muttered in response. “The idea of somepony bein’ up on Celestia's throne that isn't Celestia is hard enough to swallow as it is, let alone it bein’ Rarity.”

“But you felt it?” Twilight asked, more as a means of confirming her own sanity than to check Applejack's sensory perception.

The earth pony nodded. “Yeah, I felt it,” she replied, and snorted. “Princess Rarity.” Twilight waited for the inevitable comment regarding Rarity's predisposition toward abuse of power and lack of priorities, but was left surprised when Applejack made neither. “Good,” she said simply. “She'll take care of Canterlot.”

Twilight blinked, taken aback by her friend's atypical response. “You think so?” she asked cautiously.

Applejack raised a brow at her. “‘Course I do,” she replied simply, “why?”

“Well I,” Twilight said, tripping over her words, “it’s just, I know you two are friends and all, but I always sort of got the feeling you didn't think much of her on a… practical… level.”

Applejack laughed and leaned on the rail that protected her from a swift fall into the cold depths of the ocean below. “Twi, Rarity is a fussy pony,” she said matter-of-factually. “She has always been a fussy pony. What she sees in fancy dresses and yard after yard of expensive sheep fluff I'll never understand.” She shook her head in amusement, but leveled her eyes at Twilight afterward. “But I've never doubted her dedication. Her willin’ness to get dirty maybe, her ability to handle a days worth of heavy liftin’ too. But never her tenacity.”

The earth pony looked out over the water, toward the now invisible shoreline.

“I've lived in Ponyville all my life, sugarcube. I was there when Rarity started her little dress operation out of the garage of her parent’s house.” She smirked, “We laughed, Big Mac and I. Never figured a fancy dress shop would get anywhere in Ponyville back then.” Her smirk widened at the memory. “When Rarity sold enough dresses to get the old shop she's in now, I ate my words for dinner. No pony bought it for her. She tilled that field herself, and the odds were against her. It was only one level back then, all run down and old. She slept in the attic because she'd spent every last dime she had buying the place and wasn't willin’ to leave it alone at night. Probably the closest to 'camping' that mare's ever done.”

Twilight had never pondered how Rarity's business had actually come into being. For some reason she'd assumed it had been inherited. The idea that Rarity had built the entire thing from scratch, quite literally, was impressive. “It didn't always look that way?” Twilight asked. Applejack snorted.

“Shoot no,” she said, “that used to be a corral, long time ago. That's why it’s so open and round on the inside. For show ponies and stuff.” Her face lit up a bit at the memory, and she chuckled, hiding a blush. “You should have seen it, Twi. I was a bit younger back then, so, you know, bit more easily swayed by the uh… charms of the opposite sex. They used to hold a rodeo in that place that featured some of the finest examples of stallionhood you've ever laid eyes on. Granny Smith darn near wouldn't let me go watch,” she winked, “for good reason.”

Twilight laughed at the idea of a teenaged Applejack swooning on the sidelines for some bucking bronco from out of town. It was humorously out of character for a pony Twilight knew to be infallibly level-headed.

Applejack grinned at the memory herself. “I always used to tell Big Mac he should compete, but you know him. He's never wanted to be one in the spotlight.”

Twilight bit her lip to keep from responding. She hadn't relayed Rarity's discovery about Big Macintosh's membership in the single most important group of ponies in Equestria to his sister yet, figuring that if Mac had wanted her to know he would've told her himself. Not in the spotlight perhaps, but no less important.

“She didn't fix the place up on her own, you know, bein’ Rarity and all,” Applejack continued, “but she made the money to make it happen. Talked to the right ponies, held her own shows, connected and networked and everything. I know what hard work looks like, Twi. Rarity may not do the sort of work I can really wrap my head around, but she does the work. All day, everyday. Hardest working pony I know. Built her empire from nothing but dirt, and she did it all by herself.” She made a sour face. “I think that's why she frustrates me so much. I just can’t figure out why she can't put that kind of energy into something more important than… dresses.”

She snorted, and looked oddly distant.

“I Imagine she's doin’ that now, keepin’ Canterlot in one piece,” Applejack said finally. “She’s the right pony for the job, Twi. Were it any other time, I'd question Luna's sanity. But there's a crisis going on up there and ponies need her help. Rarity won't let them down. She'll get those ponies together and protected if she has to go door to door personally to make it happen. Ain't never been a job that needed doing that Rarity couldn't find a way to get done, not when she knew it had to happen.”

Twilight smiled. Her connection to Rarity had made her innately protective of the other unicorn, and hearing Applejack's vote of confidence helped ease her worry. She turned her thoughts outward as she stared off the deck of the Sunrise toward the sea. By now the ship had traveled well beyond the sight of Equestria and was swiftly approaching open water, which had put its sailors on edge. Pinkie Pie still had command, but every league they traveled toward the horizon was another chip on every pony's shoulder. This crew had never been beyond Equestria's borders before, and as far as they were concerned, never should be. Thankfully, no rumors of their mysterious cargo had yet drifted out among the ponies manning the vessel, but the open ocean itself had its fair share of foreboding stories and mystery attached to it. While nopony was entirely certain of the reason behind Equestria's policy of not traveling too far out, most were convinced they were in place for good reason.

Fluttershy dropped suddenly down from the upper deck, hovering just outside the rail in front of Twilight and Applejack and causing both ponies to jump backward in shock. She was instantly apologetic, and landed on the deck with her hooves crossed nervously.

“Sorry!” she said, “I didn't mean to scare you, its just um,” she pawed at the decking, ashamed of her impolite arrival. Twilight smiled at Applejack, but said nothing. This sort of thing happened so often with Fluttershy that to attempt to ease her worry was a futile effort. Telling her 'It’s okay' would only make her worry about just how 'okay' it actually was. She continued on her own, after a moment. “We're getting close to the border, and the Admiral says that-”

“The 'Admiral' is still Pinkie, sugarcube,” Applejack reminded her, “try not to let her get too inflated or she'll go floating off the boat.”

“Oh, sorry, um… well I wouldn't, but she keeps hitting everypony.” Fluttershy made a face. “She says it’s the sailor's way, but um, I don't think the sailors like it much either. Although it does seem to work...” She suddenly realized she'd strayed off topic and shook her head, “Anyway, she says that they've spotted something out in the distance through the telescope. They don't know what yet, but something is waiting out there.”

The other two ponies looked at each other warily. Twilight set her expression firm and cleared her throat. “Our cover story is going to fall apart here pretty soon either way,” she said with a decisive tone. “Once we get to the border and find one of Windswept's 'Wells', we're going to have to drop the act and dive in. I'm going to go get her untied.” She turned for the hatch into the cargo bay. “You two head up topside and make sure no pony gets too over-enthusiastic. We don't want to provoke a fight. We already know they're willing to kill the princess if we don't behave, and if we start looking too confrontational...” she didn't finish. She didn't need to. Fluttershy's eyes were wide and worried and she nodded wordlessly. Applejack looked more composed, but she felt the pressure too. They were walking a knife's edge. It would be one thing if the kelpies were holding the princess for ransom and wouldn't receive it if she was hurt, but they weren't. They wanted Equestria's military, and if they couldn't get it, killing her would be the next best thing. That she was still alive at all was almost a courtesy, and no pony wanted to push their luck.

“C'mon, sugarcube,” Applejack said to Fluttershy when Twilight had turned for the door. “Let’s go make sure the 'Admiral' hasn’t already ordered everypony to the cannons.”

“EVERYPONY TO THE CANNONS!”

Pinkie's voice rang out over the ship's long, hollow communication tubes, echoing out of the fluted horns as a shrill command from on high. Applejack felt her heart jump up into her throat.

“Oh no!” Fluttershy yelped. “What is she doing?!”

Applejack's response was drowned out by a sudden explosion of water off the side of the Sunrise. The ship listed hard in the opposite direction and sent both ponies careening into the bulkhead, but it recovered a moment later and Applejack was back upright. Her hooves dug into the wooden decking and she dashed for the bow, determined to figure out what Pinkie had gotten them into. Fluttershy was behind her, leaving Twilight and Windswept within the ship's holds.

The situation on deck was deceptively quiet. Shorthanded as the Sunrise was when it left port, only four of it's already meager ten gun complement were manned, with green sailors scanning the horizon frantically in every direction for a target. Pinkie Pie, still in the guise of Admiral Magenta McGorgamaforg, had her now infamous smoking pipe clenched in her teeth and was standing atop what Applejack knew to be her party cannon: a largely harmless device, save for its effects on a room's paintjob and wallpaper. But it looked formidable enough and was the only gun facing forward. Applejack just hoped she wouldn't have to fire it.

“Steady...” Pinkie cautioned. “They're out there somewhere.”

“Just what do you think you’re doin’?!” Applejack hissed when she got close enough to do so without being overheard by the crew. “Have you forgotten who they've GOT?”

“They fired first!” Pinkie replied defensively, removing her pipe from her mouth for a moment. “There was this shape waaay out on the horizon, and then it disappeared into the water, and then boom!”

“ADMIRAL!” one of the crewmen yelled, pointing. There was a swell in the water some distance away. A massive hump, like a whale moving just below the surface, glossy and dark, dark blue. It descended a moment later, and a low thud could be heard.

“Just like last time,” Pinkie muttered, and put the pipe back in her mouth. “HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!” she thundered, returning to her grizzled, nautical character. Applejack blinked at the command, but everypony else latched hard to the ship's railings. There was another explosion of water, like before, but off the other side of the ship. It rocked harder this time, listing to the starboard side. Applejack hadn't been ready, and skidded along the decking, scrambling for purchase. Pinkie had secured a hoof to her party cannon, which was apparently secure in its own right, and reached for her friend's flailing arms but fell short. Applejack slid at dangerous speed toward the rail, until the yellow shape of Fluttershy scooped her upward, holding her aloft as best she could until the ship stabilized. She was panting by the time she put the larger earth pony down on the deck, but she'd gotten the job done. Applejack breathed a sigh of relief, and gave her shy friend a smile.

“No damage,” Shipshape reported once she'd secured her footing. Despite her prognosis, the crew themselves looked more than a little shaken up. The first officer knew the feeling, beyond the simple fear of facing an unknown opponent, there was a certain aggravation that came from being attacked by an enemy you couldn't see.

“They must be missing on purpose,” Fluttershy said over the chatter of her own knocking knees. “They've got to know we can't hit them while they're underwater!”

“Actually,” came a new voice from the stairway, “they don't.”

Windswept had emerged on deck, with Twilight behind her. Both ponies looked concerned, but Windswept's expression was a bit less confused and a bit more grave. The look of somepony who knew her enemy, rather than simply knowing an enemy was around. There was a collective dropping of jaws from every pony on deck as the kelpie walked on the tips of her fins and flippers, mimicking the four-legged gait of her unicorn companion. Pinkie pulled her pipe from her mouth and held it threateningly over her head as she stared down the crew, who promptly collected their senses and turned urgently back to scanning the seas.

Shipshape's eyes narrowed. “Shouldn't that be tied up?” she asked in a low tone.

Windswept raised a brow and grinned slyly. “Why?” the kelpie asked, “Did you like the view?”

Twilight cleared her throat. “The uh… prisoner knows her role in this,” she said, with the hope that her presumed authority would be enough to prevent further questions. It had so far, but now that the ship was under fire, Shipshape was less eager to simply go along with things. She set her jaw and opened her mouth to protest, until Applejack put a hoof on her shoulder.

“Easy sailor,” she said, “you've gone this far, right? Stick it out to the end. We know what we're doin’.”

“THERE SHE BLOWS!” Pinkie yelled above the conversation. The massive swell that had been skulking underwater emerged on the surface with a crashing of the waves, and Windswept went to the rail to look with Twilight and the others in tow. Pinkie was restraining a giggle. She'd always wanted to say that.

Whatever it was, it moved with a slow, restrained power that seemed to dwarf the Sunrise. Its passing pulled the ship in the water by means of the displacement it made, and the dark, foreboding ripples extended behind it beyond twice the Equestrian ship’s size. Windswept scowled.

“Sweet apple acres, it’s enormous...” Applejack breathed quietly, but the kelpie shook her head.

“It’s smaller than it looks,” she said, “they're trying to bait you into firing. There's never been a direct confrontation between kelpie ships and Equestrian ones before. They don't know much about what your cannons can do.” She chuckled mirthfully. “Neither do I, for that matter. They're in a Wakeroller. It’s not even a military craft. They're used to help control the tides, and they're really good at pushing water around. Helps with construction.”

“It’s a tug boat?” Shipshape asked in disbelief.

“Sounds like it,” Twilight replied. “Can it actually hurt us?”

Windswept nodded. “Oh yes. That's probably why they brought it. One thing we DO know about land ponies is they can't breath underwater. Wakerollers won't do anything more to a kelpie ship than just shake it around a little, but it could flip this ship completely over if it worked at it hard enough, and it won't have to come to the surface to pull it off.” She put a contemplative flipper to her chin. “That explains how they planned on keeping the upper hand against the Equestria navy without using military ships. Not a bad choice when it comes to fighting ponies that can't swim.”

“We can swim,” Applejack protested.

Windswept smirked. “Sure you can,” she replied.

Twilight cut off Applejack's retort by yelling back toward Pinkie. “Get the crew to stand down,” she instructed, “they've got the upper hoof here. We don't want to provoke them until we know what's going on with the princess.

They wouldn't have long to wait. The Sunrise rocked slowly as the waves from the form under the water hit it in the bow, and Windswept narrowed her eyes.

“They're surfacing,” she said, and turned to Twilight. The purple mare looked at the kelpie, as though awaiting further instructions, but all Windswept had to offer was a shrug. “It’s your move, Twilight,” she said. “They'll probably send somepony out to receive Equestria's surrender. How you handle it is up to you.” She gave the unicorn a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Twilly,” she said softly, “I wish I had a better suggestion.”

Twilight swallowed in an attempt to clear the dryness in her throat, and nodded. Shipshape raised a brow as the purple unicorn walked nervously toward the bow of the ship to face the slowly rising black shape, which was now doming out of the water. Its hull was smooth and dark blue, with a hydrodynamic taper in its shape and a bank of windows in its front. Silver filigree of alien design graced its curves, but the swirls and locations of it seemed familiar. Land and sea ponies alike seemed to share a taste for decoration.

The opposing vessel rose out of the water enough for the bank of windows in its bow to sit level with the top deck of the Sunrise, and remained there, silent in the moonlight. The crew seemed unwilling to so much as blink lest it shatter the silence: they were looking at something that most of them had dismissed long ago as nothing by an old mare's tale. Ponies that lived in the ocean instead of in Equestria. Sirens of the deep. Stories, that was all. Yet, here they were, and presumably there was a whole nation of them somewhere deep beneath the waves. Twilight sighed and glanced at the moon high overhead, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. It had been a very, very long day, and it wasn’t over yet.

The stars...

Twilight's eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t noticed until just now, staring skyward, but the four stars she'd seen vanish into the moon when Nightmare Moon had been released were missing. They'd returned after that night and been there ever since, but they were gone again now, she was sure of it. Motion caught her vision and made her glance toward the horizon. A single point of white light was vanishing just behind the clouds. Frantically she scanned in other directions. Another, to the south, was slowly disappearing beyond the horizon. She caught the slightest hint of a third to the east, but by the time she'd turned toward back toward the kelpie ship in front of her, it had surfaced completely and blocked her view toward anything behind it. She knew it had to have been there, though. The four stars that had helped the mare in the moon escape her prison were descending.

The urgency of the situation was far more than she'd considered. They didn't have days; they had hours. Nothing had been stepped up. There was no reason the stars should be moving faster than prophecy had foretold, and yet Celestia had only been captured today, just before sunset. Variables flashed through her mind. How long it would take to subdue Princess Celestia. How long she and the others had spent walking from place to place. How Windswept had kept Twilight from escaping by denying her a place to escape to while they spoke at the bottom of the canal, the best way to trap a pony that could teleport at will. How the kelpies had tried to provoke a fight before surfacing. Something clicked in Twilight's head.

“I know where she is...” she whispered.

Clock is ticking, Twilight. Clock is ticking.

Twilight Sparkle was not prone to impulsive decisions. Of all the ponies in Ponyville, it was Twilight who spent the most time planning and revising, checking every list twice before being content enough with them to even call them lists, rather than scribbles. Measure twice, then measure with three other rulers, then get two other ponies to measure it and compare results, THEN cut once; that was Twilight. So when the doorway set into the window bank on the kelpie ship slowly slid open, everypony on the Sunrise expected her to execute a carefully thought out, targeted negotiation for the return of Princess Celestia.

“Pinkie!” Twilight yelled as the silhouettes of kelpies appeared in the doorway. The pink pony perked her ears. “DUCK!”

Pinkie Pie was not a pony to question an order to move impulsively. She dropped to the deck immediately, just as the fuse to her party cannon which Twilight had lit magically mere seconds earlier burned to the bottom. There was a thunderous explosion of confetti and streamers contained within glimmering wrapping paper that rocketed from the barrel toward the doorway of the kelpie ship. Twilight's horn flickered, and she sparked out of existence just as the ball of galeforce friendship shot through the space she'd just been occupying and out across the water, hitting the kelpies in the door of their own ship and exploding into a joyous sounding of sparkles and horn blares.

Party or no, a cannon is a cannon, and the boarding party was knocked clear off their flippers. Twilight sparked out of her teleport on board the kelpie vessel and didn't miss a beat, charging down the hallway toward the belly of the ship. She could hear yelling and alarms behind her as doors slammed open and kelpies of various shape and size rushed into the halls to respond to the intrusion. Twilight saw every color of the rainbow, just like on any other pony ship, but the walking was clumsy. This hallway was meant to be swum in, but it was dry. It had been dry for a while; there were no puddles to speak of. The unicorn grinned. She was right. It was dry because somepony here couldn't breath underwater.

Magical energy ricocheted off the walls as Twilight teleported past the grabbing flippers of the ship's crew, moving inextricably downward toward what she could only hope was the cargo hold. She fired shafts of blinding light behind her and slammed as many doors as she could, forcing her pursuers to waste time opening them. Negotiating the stairways was difficult; they were made for a different set of “legs,” but it wasn’t impossible, and she managed to keep her speed up. When she spotted the large, barred double doors set into a reinforced wall, she narrowed her eyes. This was it.

I need these doors to open, she thought to herself. If I have half the right to hold the Element of Magic, I need these doors to OPEN.

Her vision blazed white, causing the outlines of the architecture around her to burn in her retinas as hard, black lines and the colors to explode in intensity, and all at once, the heavy doors in front of her blasted off their hinges. Startled cries from within were muffled by the sound of the doors rattling across the decking as Twilight charged in and skidded to a halt.

“PRINCESS!” she cried.

Chained in the middle of the room by all four legs and her neck, was Celestia. Her wings had been bound tightly to her body and there was a hood over her head and horn, tied on and trapped there by the heavy metal collar that secured her neck to the ground. She couldn't see. But she could hear.

“Twilight?” Celestia responded, surprise in her voice. Twilight's heart leaped, but she restrained her excitement. The guards were swiftly recovering.

“Princess!” she said urgently. “You're not underwater anymore! We're on the ocean's surface, there's a friendly ship three hundred feet in front of you. Teleport up twenty feet and forward three hundred and you'll land safely! Quickly!”

Celestia didn't argue. The hood on her head glowed from the magic it was shrouding, and there was a sudden spark of violet light. A moment later, the princess' shackles fell empty to the floor. Just as Twilight had been denied an escape from Windswept by not knowing where it was safe to teleport to, Celestia had no point of reference by which to plot her own teleport. Without knowing where to begin, it was impossible to know where you could safely end. Short of killing every kelpie on board, Celestia had been effectively cornered. Twilight heard the shouts of angry kelpies approaching from the hallway, and cast one last, brief, furious stare toward the guards before she herself vanished in a flash of light.

“FIRE ON THAT SHIP!” Pinkie roared, and kicked her party cannon into an upright position, dumping an entire coat-full of unlit smoking pipes into its barrel in place of a cannonball and swiveling it to aim at the kelpie craft. Fluttershy was frantically tending to the princess, who had appeared a few feet overhead from midair not seconds earlier, and Shipshape and Applejack were spinning the ship's wheel hard to starboard to bring the main guns to bare. Twilight appeared with just enough time to duck as the salvo of spinning pipes rocketed over her head and shattered through the wakeroller's windows. Pinkie erped and chuckled nervously as Twilight shot her a furious look.

“Don't waste time shooting at it,” Twilight yelled, “just get us out of here! It can still sink us!”

It seemed intent on doing just that. Losing the windows was little concern to a crew that could breath underwater, and no sooner was the ship half submerged than the local tides began to roll and dip violently. Waves crashed against the side of the Sunrise as it rounded back toward Equestria, but without any forward momentum they were drifting backward as quickly as they were gaining speed.

“We can't break free!” Shipshape cried out above the noise of the surf. “The engines were never meant to work like this, water doesn’t flow this way!”

Twilight could hear the whine of the gears down below as the currents behaved in ways the ship's mechanisms were never intended to compensate for. The screws were turning, but they weren’t biting the water as they should be. The wakeroller seemed to have control over how the ocean flowed about the vessel. Sweat beaded on her brow as she formulated other plans. So close, they were so close...

There was a sudden, horrific crash and an explosion of water behind them. Twilight figured it must be another one of the bursts the kelpies had fired earlier, until she realized there was no longer a reason for them to be intentionally missing. She turned toward the eruption, and her jaw dropped in awe.

The wakeroller had been lifted completely out of the water, held aloft by a massive, opal colored arm of interlinking, beautifully sculpted armor. It coiled around the vessel like the tentacle of an octopus, and Twilight could hear the timbers of the ship's ribbing crack like bones in its gleaming grip. The wakeroller split in two and crashed into the ocean, sending up great gouts of seawater that soaked the deck of the Sunrise. Twilight spat it from her mouth and wiped her eyes clean in time to see the moon blotted out by tall, pointed spires that matched those of the palace itself in Canterlot, each one a glimmering beacon of white in the moon-soaked night. Those mighty mechanical tentacles could be seen coiling outward so far they vanished in the distance, and the spires reached toward the stars, pulling more and more of castle-like structure out of the ocean with them as they traveled ever higher. By the time the entirety of the structure had emerged, the Sunrise was little more than a mouse beside a cathedral, dwarfed by even the waterfalls of seawater that drained from the donjons and bulwarks of the mighty pearl palace.

“Oh, no,” Twilight whimpered, her lip trembling, “what now?” Her legs quivered under her as the oppressive sight of the structure shrouded the ship from the moonlight. Exhaustion was catching up to her rapidly. The running and the repeated teleportation had taxed her already dwindling energy and the adrenaline from the princess' rescue was draining fast. “We came so far...”

“That you did, little one.”

Twilight looked behind her and saw Celestia's smiling face. She flung herself into the larger pony's arms and clung tightly to her, and Celestia ran a comforting hoof over her student's head.

“It’s done, Twilight,” she said softly. “It's done. You succeeded,” she couldn't help but chuckle softly, “as I knew you would, my student. Thank you.”

Twilight choked back the tears that were threatening to overtake her while her body struggled through exhaustion to decide if Celestia's return marked the conclusion of the night's quest or if the sudden appearance of the towering, tentacled palace marked the start of some new nightmare. Celestia's smile calmed her enough to stare up at it again.

“What… is it, Princess?” Fluttershy asked in a trembling voice, and looked toward Celestia. But it wasn’t the tall white pony who replied. It was Windswept, who was gazing upward from the side of the deck. She turned back toward the others and grinned.

“Princess Celestia,” she said cheerfully, “may I present the Palace of Kelantis, Capital of Kelopolis. Home of Princess Aurora of the Kelpies.”

Celestia's expression was firm and set, and Twilight could see her jaw clench. “Yes,” she replied in a low tone, “I know. I've been there before.”

And to You, the Customer (author's thanks)

G'evening folks.

I want to thank you for spending the time to read and follow Synchronicity. Those of you who have been here since the beginning know this story has had horrifically long lapses between its latter updates, and your patience has been appreciated. Synchronicy began some two years ago, give or take, and various show-canon has put some pretty hefty dents in its assertions, but in the end it's been a delight to write it, and I can only hope you enjoyed the read.

Around midway through the writing of this story, I began a tumblr ask blog to attempt to promote it, staring Windswept. it worked out fairly well for a while, but my need to play with more material than simple asks drove me to begin a new project: storiesfromthefront.tumblr.com . That new blog consumed my time, and is the primary reason Synchronicity took so long to finish. With any luck, some of you who enjoyed this story also enjoy the storiesfromthefront blog, and didn't feel the lack quite so much as others. I'm one person, I only have so much time to split. thank you all for being patient.

Synchronicity ends with many questions left unanswered. Rainbow's secret love, the true history of Celestia, Luna and Aurora. The new dichotomy between Twilight and her friends (and the things twilight hides under her bed), the additional members of the council of harmony, and who wrote the letter left in Celestia's harem. While it may vex some readers, these things were left open intentionally. My little Pony is fun for me because it leaves so much up to you to interpret. there are so many mental stories to write, and the show leaves them up to you to decide which ones are worth expanding. This story is full of shipping and canon expansion, but it makes a deliberate attempt to not force any one relationship on you. Pick the ones you like! grow them in your mind. That, as a reader, was always more fun to me than being told who actually wanted whom, especially in a story that doesn't revolve around its romance. Synchronicty is a story about Twilight Sparkle and her friends, but there are a hundred different places elsewhere in Equestria in which other ponies were working just as hard as they were. Where were you? how did you fit in?

Those of you who enjoyed this story and want more from its canon should head to my tumblr and explore (its nsfw, so be warned). If nothing else, you'll see why it took so long to get this one finished! Thank you all for seeing this project through to its completion.

-Sev