Twilight Over Thanalan

Chapters

1 - Prologue
3 - Within the Shadows
4 - The Bowl of Embers
5 - The Lord of the Inferno
6 - Drybone
7 - Seventh Dawn
8 - Eikons and Alicorns
8 - The Burning Wall
9 - The Black Shroud
10 - Arcanism
11 - Imperial Will
12 - The Rhotano Sea
13 - Navigator's Glory
14 - Tempered Zeal
15 - Bronze Lake
16 - Antagonism
17 - Flash of Crimson
19 - Scholar's Account
20 - Scholar's Sorrow
21 - Seekers
22 - Thal's Respite
23 - Dusk Falls
24 - Fangs Bared
25 - Black Steel
26 - The Madman's Experiment
27 - Return to the Waking Sands
28 - The Sundering
2 - From the Rift
18 - Scholar's Spite

1 - Prologue

Ah, Hydaelyn… A vibrant planet blessed by the light of the Crystal with whom it shares its name. Upon this world, amid azure seas, encompassing the westernmost of the Three Great Continents, lies a realm embraced by gods and forged by heroes. Her name: Eorzea. The annals of Eorzean history have charted the rise and fall of many civilizations, each one enjoying an era of peace and prosperity. The Astral Eras.

To date… all have proven ephemeral.

In the year 1572 of the Sixth and most recent Astral Era, the northern empire of Garlemald amassed a great army at the heart of Eorzea, seeking dominion over all. Rising in desperate resistance, the forces of the Eorzean Alliance met their would-be conquerors in the field.

Yet even as the battle raged, the lesser moon, Dalamud, was plucked from the heavens by the machinations of Nael van Darnus, the legatus of the VIIth imperial legion. From its core emerged the Elder Primal Bahamut, whose rage was unleashed upon the realm in a storm of fire and death.

The devastation brought Eorzea to its knees and the era to its end.

Five long years have come and gone, and in spite of the carnage, the light of life still shines upon Eorzea. Man labors tirelessly to raise himself up from the calamity’s ruin. The land is forever changed, a stranger to him once more. Yet heedless of what lies ahead, he shall press on, spurred on by the promise of peace and prosperity.

Amid this period of great change, an adventurer has arrived in Eorzea, one whose path shall chart the course of the realm, and indeed, the very fate of the world itself.

And yet his arrival would not be the only one…

For far across the endlessly churning sea of the dimensional rift between worlds, there lies another realm. One untouched by the horrors of the calamity. A realm of light, of harmony. A land of hope and companionship, of friendship and magic.

Her name: Equestria.

For a thousand years, Equestria has enjoyed its own prolonged period of peace and harmony. Within this land, there are two mighty princesses who rule with kindness and benevolence. The eldest, Princess Celestia, with her great magic, raises the sun to begin the day, while her younger sister, Princess Luna, draws forth the moon to begin the night.

For eons, Equestria has stood as the center for peace and harmony in her world. Their light shines like a beacon to all, that all may know comfort and joy.

But where there is light, there is darkness.

Beyond the sight of both realms, sequestered away and hidden within the deepest shadows, covetous eyes and greedy hearts see the light of Equestria. The darkness reaches forth, ravenous, and the threat of a new calamity looms silently over Equestria, unseen and unknown.

But between light and darkness, the day and the night, the sun and the moon, there is ever the sparkle of Twilight… and so it is that the newest princess of Equestria, and the student to Celestia, shall play her part in the tale of Eorzea, and the eternal struggle that rages on at the heart of Hydaelyn…

May she ever walk in the light of the Crystal, and the Light of Harmony, both...

3 - Within the Shadows

“The moon’s different…”

That thought had been lingering in Twilight’s mind for quite a while now. The sun had set some time ago, and in time the moon rose over the land. She hadn’t paid the distant celestial object much mind at first, focusing instead on her hunt for water and shelter. All else could wait until she was able to get her survival needs taken care of.

So far, though, no such shelter was forthcoming. The mesas wove together to form something akin to a labyrinth that twisted in on itself over and over again, confusing and forcing her to backtrack far more frequently than she would have liked. Normally, she would have flown above the rocky formations, but as before when the black-masked man had dropped her, her wings were strangely ineffectual. The most she had been able to get out of them so far was a glide, and even then it was far less effective than what she was used to.

Eventually, she had been forced to sit down and rest her hooves, using a small hollow in one of the mesas for cover. She spent what felt like ages there, catching her breath and going through what she knew of the situation in her mind—which was, depressingly, very little.

Her eyes wandered. The desert was expansive, and the longer she lingered, the more she realized that she was increasingly unsure as to where in Equestria it could be. The geography and land formations, while similar to what one might expect to see in a place like the Badlands, were also different enough to rule that location out.

Add onto that the strange wildlife that she had caught only fleeting glimpses of. The most notable example was a group of perfectly motionless cacti that had spontaneously started moving when she drew close, scuttering quickly off to vanish between the mesas. They had squeaked and squealed in comically high-pitched voices as they ran, leaving her with more questions than answers.

She was beginning to grow concerned that she had been dropped off somewhere in the world unknown to Equestria; a chilling thought that put a lump in her throat. She turned her attention to the sky in search of a distraction.

It was at that moment she realized the moon that hung in the heavens, full and bright, was not the one she was familiar with. The patterns of the craters were different, and it was smaller—or perhaps just more distant—than the one she knew. Everything about it just seemed wrong to her.

In fact… the entire sky was different from the one she knew, she realized. The stars were all wrong. None of the constellations she had spent years memorizing could be seen. She never imagined her scholarly interest in astrology would be useful in such a regard, but this had been a strange kind of day.

Was she really so far removed from Equestria that she was seeing an entirely different part of space?

Though that did nothing to explain the moon…

Of course, there was one other instance where she had encountered such a phenomenon. A trip across a certain mirror to a world filled with beings such as…

Such as the cloaked figure.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions…” Twilight muttered to herself, stopping to stare at the eerie lunar surface. “Perhaps the sky here just changed the moon’s appearance… I don’t know how it would make sense to do that, but it’s a theory! Or the moon has somehow changed its axis, that’s another! Spike, are you-”

Twilight paused. “Right, no Spike. No friends. Alone in an unknown place, in the middle of the desert, in the dead of night.” She gave a low whine as more of her predicament dawned on her. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but this time she felt… distinctively further removed from them. Still, all the more reason to ascertain her current location and find a guide back to Equestria. If she could find a local map, or even a helpful star chart, she could plot her own course back home.

...Unless there wasn’t a home to go back to in this place.

“Again, not thinking about that yet.”

Giving a small sigh, she pried her eyes from the alien moon and returned them to the landscape. There was little point sitting and feeling sorry for herself, and she wasn’t so content with her location as to sit around for one of those weird creatures to snack on her as she slept. Instead, she elected to press on along the desert plains in the hopes of finding somepony. Anypony.

It was going to be a long night, either way.

The stone and mesas began to grow increasingly dense the further north she wandered. This would be of use come the dawn, providing ample shelter from the scorching rays of the sun, but for now, they did little more than frustrate her and force her to weave through an increasingly labyrinthian environment.

Soon, the land fell away to her left, into an enormous, gaping chasm. To her right was a tall, steep wall of yet more red sandstone. The path she had been following ran up along the side of the wall at a steep, uneven incline. She eyed the path critically. It looked brittle, like parts of it would crumble away under hoof at a moment’s notice. However, the path led to the top of the mesa, and such a vantage point would be invaluable in finding a faster route through this accursed desert.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, Twilight… just step lightly,” she told herself before beginning her ascent. She pressed herself close to the mesa wall, but even so, she was still far closer to the ledge than she was comfortable with. Her wings ruffled in agitation against her sides at the prospect of her falling and being unable to keep her aloft.

“Just one step at a time… gently… gently…”

Crack!

Twilight yelped as her hoof met a stone that was looser than the others. A chunk of the path came away underneath her, rattling loudly and crumbling down the slope and into the chasm below. Twilight quickly scurried up a short distance, not looking back just in case the rest of the slope began to collapse under her. To her relief, she didn’t hear any more falling rocks or debris, and so her pace slowed back down. She chanced a glance back, and she felt her muscles relax. It had only been a small chunk. Nothing life-threatening.

Her relaxation ended, however, when a new sound reached her. Her ears perked up, listening intently. Something was moving. It was close… and it was above her. Atop the mesa. She looked up, frowning. Whatever was up there, the little commotion just now must have alerted it. She began to back away, not keen on tangling with wild animals.

“Who’s there?!”

Twilight went rigid, her jaw falling open in surprise.

Part of her wanted to call out. This was her chance! People! Answers! Just above her, away from this really quite concerning chasm, was just what she had been searching for since that figure had rudely deposited her in this Celestia-blasted desert.

...And yet, something about their tone of voice gave her a measure of pause. It had been loud, gruff, and she could imagine such a voice coming from quite a… large fellow. More than that, though, there had been clear malice; suspicion and contempt carried in the tone that made the mare less inclined to reveal herself just yet.

“What do you see?” another voice, one similar to the first, spoke out.

Twilight pressed herself back against the rocky wall as a sizable shadow appeared from above, casting down nearby as she prayed some of the rocks jutting out above her provided suitable concealment.

“Argh, not seen, heard. Someone is down here…”

“A cactuar most like, but our Lord has no use for such feeble things. We cannot be delayed, the enlightenment of those captives is soon to begin.”

“Hm… Indeed, and I would not miss the inferno to come. Very well, let us continue on.”

Twilight let out a quiet sigh of relief as the shadow withdrew, letting out the tension she didn’t even realize was held within her muscles. She looked up, hearing heavy footsteps and the snarls of something… else, probably not from whoever those voices belonged to.

But what had that been about their ‘Lord’? Inferno? Was it related to the man in black?

Cautious suspicion and a need for answers burned anew in Twilight’s mind. Looking at the rock face before her, silently cursing to both Celestia and Luna for her current lack of flight, she placed her hooves on the most stable-looking rocks and pulled herself up. It was relatively slow going. This kind of thing was always her mother’s hobby… or Rainbow’s. Still, she called forth what little experience climbing she had from the few escapades her friend had tricked her into and her own research on the knowledge and density of these kinds of rocks.

She did like to think she was knowledgeable enough to be a good judge of where and where not to step. Second only, perhaps, to a certain sister of a blindingly pink pony.

Sure enough, barring a few moments of uncertainty, Twilight made her way up the thankfully short distance and pulled herself over the edge.

“That’s no cactuar.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Two shadows now loomed over her, with more beyond them still. And it finally dawned on Twilight that, in her efforts to haphazardly climb the wall of rock, she’d let the ‘silently’ part fall to the wayside…

She gulped, inwardly chiding herself for her carelessness as she looked up at the dauntingly large creatures before her.

The creatures watching her were unlike any she had seen before. The closest comparison she could make to them would be some form of flightless dragon. Their burly, muscle-bound forms stood up on two legs. Long, thick tails swished behind them. Their heads bore tails of their own, flowing down their backs almost like fleshy ponytails, while their bodies were covered in thick, leathery black skin that blended in rather nicely with the backdrop of the night—and, Twilight imagined, provided impressive protection against the heat of the sun. Their eyes glared down at her, a furious shade of orange that reminded her of a blazing fire.

Another sound reached her ears from behind the towering behemoths of muscle. She looked past them and gulped. If her previous assessment of the bipeds being draconic was even remotely on point, the creatures behind them were absolutely draconic. They stood on four legs, covered in dark red scales that looked to be thicker than the armour of Celestia’s royal guard. Their angled face was home to a wide maw filled to the brim with razor-sharp teeth, and she thought she could see the flickering of firelight in the back of their throats.

“What is it?” One of the tall creatures asked, tilting its head.

“Bah, what does it matter?” the other asked, shifting to point something at Twilight. It was only now that she realized that these creatures were holding large, threatening spears. “Begone, pest!”

“Yeah, they look a little angry…”

But they hadn’t hurt her yet. “So… a good sign?” She chose to take it that way. Perhaps these people had simply had a bad day? Or this was a rough land, where strangers could be a danger?

She was, however, still the Princess of Friendship, as new a title as that was to her. If she could just get things off on the right hoof…

“I’m so sorry to surprise you, I didn’t mean to worry anyp- anyone,” Twilight apologized sincerely with a bow of her head. “Let’s start over if I’m not being too forward.”

The creature blinked. “Eh?”

“Still not dead. Okay, more friendship!"

“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she introduced, leaving her title out for the time being, out of caution. “I am a pony from Equestria, a land I assume is very far from here. We value friendship and harmony to the highest degree, and would love nothing more than to coexist with your people for the betterment of all! I’m sure we could find common ground in future conversation, and I would be willing to share much with our new friends, especially if they were to point me in the direction of home?”

She smiled innocently at them.

They stared at her.

“Kill it.”

Twilight blinked and cried out as the spear pointed at her throat lunged forward. Thinking fast, she quickly threw herself to the side, barely avoiding the thrust. Her stomach jumped up to invade her heart’s space as she began to drop, and she quickly reached out to grab onto the ledge. “Wait! I’m not-”

“Stop moving!” the second creature snapped, its enormous hand snapping out to ensnare her throat. She began acutely aware of the gargantuan claws on these creatures' hands, as well as the staggering physical strength held in their muscled arms. She was barely able to squeak through its grip on her neck.

It lifted her up into the air, its lip curling back to reveal sharp teeth. It turned sharply, lifting her further, and she realized it meant to throw her onto the ground. Acting on reflex, she quickly charged her horn with magic. A second later, she released the charge in a burst of concussive force. The creature released its hold on her as it was pushed back, its arm flying up to cover its face from the flash of light.

“Gah! It uses magic!” the staggering creature rumbled.

Twilight hit the ground with a grunt of pain. She quickly went to stand, her horn already lighting up with magic. She paused, blinking in confusion. Something was wrong, but in the chaos of the moment, she couldn’t figure out what. She wasn’t given any time to try and figure it out, either, as one of the large dragon-like creatures she had spied earlier lunged forward, emitting an enormous roar.

Her ears flattened back, and she quickly sprang away just in time to avoid being ensnared in its snapping jaws. She lowered her head to fire off another bolt of magic from her horn. The lavender stream impacted the drake, sending it off its feet to land on its back with a cry of pain.

More movement. Twilight looked back to see the first of the brutes charging her, spear angled for her. The other drakes were charging as well, teeth bared and throats glowing with flames.

They were out for blood, and she was not well equipped to fight all of them at once, especially without her wings. She had to subdue them just long enough to get away, and then she could lose them in the mesas. It would be tricky, but her mind was already setting into work, running through the calculations at high speed.

With a cry of effort, she fired off another bolt of magic, this time aiming at the ground in front of the spear-wielding foe. At the same time, she kicked up off the ground and flapped her wings for all she was worth. The kickback from her spell served to propel her higher into the air. She couldn’t fly, but she could still get some airtime.

Just as she had planned, the spell struck the sandy ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust and sand and forcing the charging creature to come to a halt. She used the momentum from the kickback to sail back over the heads of the charging drakes, and she smirked as they barreled blindly into the cloud she had left in her wake.

She met the ground hard, but was able to keep her footing. A crack of pain raced up one of her hind legs, but she ignored it in favour of turning to run for the ledge. She could glide back down to the ground and run from there-

The air was summarily driven from her lungs as something hard slammed into her from the side. Pain exploded through her body, and she was at least slightly certain she had just experienced a broken rib. The force of the blow knocked her off her hooves to crash and roll across the ground for several feet before coming to a rest.

Gasping, she lifted her head to look up at the source of the attack. The first of the creatures she had stunned had recovered and was now advancing on her once again. He was moving slower, now. Cautiously. Clearly, he wasn’t going to underestimate her again.

Twilight slowly forced herself to her hooves. She winced in pain as her side flared in protest, but forced herself to push on. She had to end this, and she had to end it now.

Calling on all of the reserves of magic she had, she reared up onto her hind legs. “That. is. ENOUGH!” she bellowed, sending her magic forth in a powerful wave, intending to freeze her adversaries in place. It was a trick she had performed before, freezing her friends in place in the old castle, and could easily be used for a wider group than that. In the hooves somepony like Celestia, it could probably stop whole armies in their tracks. It was an advanced incantation, as well as a power hog of a spell, but against only four enemies, it should be sufficient.

The wave of light washed over the creatures before her, and she grinned triumphantly when they all stopped in place. Her victory would be short-lived, however, when she felt resistance from all of them. Her eyes flew wide in panic. She was losing ground against them! They were moving against her magic, slowly advancing, and growling with strain and effort.

Only a few moments after she began casting the spell, her magic sputtered and faded, like a candle in a blizzard. A spike of pain ran through her skull, and the light holding back her enemies winked out of existence. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

How…? How had they done that? That shouldn’t have been possible! It was like… like the spell itself had failed to fully manifest. All the steps had been there, the conjuring had been a success, but it was as if… as if the magic inside of her just hadn’t fully channelled enough to maintain the effect.

It didn’t make sense! What was this place? Why couldn’t she fly!? Why couldn’t she cast like she should be able to!? Why… why did the magic here feel different? Familiar, compatible, but like there was something… shifted, just ever so slightly, out of place.

The shadow of a spear flashed over her.

“NO!”

Not bothering to give her mana form, knowing it would be all but useless for advanced spellcraft anyway, she just pushed it out of her. A giant explosion of lavender magic that kicked up sand, dirt and rock erupted out of her horn, propelling them in a full radius around her like a storm of stone.

The creatures, likewise caught in the blast, were sent hurtling away from the mare at high speed. Their landing was a rough one, the bipedal creatures giving groans as the wind was knocked from them while their animalistic companions shrieked in pain and alarm. Then, for a few moments afterwards, all was silent. Twilight, feeling her magic unnaturally straining, could only stand and gasp for breath as she watched for movement from her foes.

Sadly, it came.

The two talking ones began to rise, clearly pained. One of the beasts likewise started to stir, though the second appeared to have lost consciousness. Still, its steady breathing indicated it would survive any wounds it sustained.

They were still conscious, but battered. Far worse than Twilight was. She was a little tired, more than she should have been, but aside from that one broken rib she had suffered, she was fine. They, on the other hoof, looked at the end of their tether.

“Grrr, this creature has impressive strength…” the first of the creatures spoke. “You are no ordinary creature... I could feel it in your magic. It runs deeper than you know. Yes, the Amalj'aa could use power such as yours.”

Amalj’aa? That was what this species was called?

“I… I think we should go our separate ways…” Twilight keenly suggested. “I still have my magic, and I don’t want to fight you.”

“Indeed, but it is… unbalanced. Odd. But correctable, when you are brought to serve before the Lord of the Inferno.”

Twilight tilted her head. Unbalanced? Yes… that would explain the feeling. How her own magic felt alien to her like something fundamental had changed enough to throw off her calculations. But how would he know about magic? He didn’t seem to be-

The amalj’aa reached into his waistband, pulling free a small rod topped with a diamond-shaped crest that began to hum with arcane energies.

Twilight was really starting to dislike this place.

“My skills as a mage may be undeveloped compared to some, or your own, but my balance is firm and true. Let your tutoring commence.”

His arm shot up, a ball of smokey grey magical energy building at the wand’s tip before he sent it hurtling towards Twilight faster than she could evade.

She lit her own horn in an instant, bringing her magic to bear once again. Highly experienced with barriers as she was, instinct compelled her to form a lavender shield around her form as she had done on many occasions before this. They withstood Tirek’s blows and myriad impacts of all shapes and sizes. The spell coming towards her may have been ‘balanced,’ as the caster so boasted, but even with a split moment to analyse, she could tell its power was minimal.

The shield formed, shining brilliantly as the spell came dashing towards her. It all happened in under a second, the alicorn bracing as the arcane energies struck her barrier with as much strength as it could muster. Despite it all, she couldn’t help but allow herself a small smile. After all she had suffered that day, at least this one thing would be like child’s play to the equine mage.

Her confidence shattered along with the barrier.

Once again, her magic betrayed her as the flow of mana ceased, her experience meaning nothing in this land that stifled her every attempt to use advanced magicks. Whatever had changed, it had thoroughly crippled the formerly formidable alicorn.

With her final defence breached at the slightest touch, the spell hit Twilight directly and sent her falling to the ground.

It left no mark. No burn. No wound of any kind. It hadn't even hurt all that much, yet her vision was beginning to grow faint. All sound around her became distant and muffled, and her thoughts dulled with drowsiness. She felt the telltale effects of a sleep spell eroding her will to remain in the waking world.

Maybe, in the world of dreams, Luna would find her…?

With that dim hope, and with the shadow of the amalj’aa covering her once more, she drifted off into a deep slumber.

The Praetorium was an impressive structure… by the standards of mankind, perhaps. It rose high over the darkened sands of Northern Thanalan, an enormous fortress of steel and iron. Within its numerous metal halls, men and women of the Garlean Empire flocked to tend to their myriad duties, dressed in their dark uniforms and wielding their sophisticated technology. Hundreds, if not thousands of highly trained, elite soldiers and scientists filled the fortress, all of them working with a unified purpose, be it shared or imposed.

Indeed, by the standards of man, there were precious few structures erected in Eorzea that were as impressive as the Praetorium, but to the black-masked man looking upon it from afar, it was little more than an eyesore when compared to the majestic images in his mind, and the stories he had been told. A metallic tumour that would soon have outlived its usefulness.

He looked on at it all for a short time, lost in thought. His fingers twitched over a hidden pocket in his robes, where the gem he had stolen from that other world had been carefully hidden. He did not doubt that its presence would not elude his master’s awareness for long, if he felt so inclined to investigate, but that was not what worried him.

His thoughts wandered back to the pony. Though he had given her his warning, he had been playing this repetitive game long enough to know that people like her would not bow down just because he told them to. She would no doubt be trying to come after him, and after the impressive display of power she had made when they had met, he was half-convinced she could manage to reach him, too…

He shook his head. No, now was not the time for doubts such as that. The pony was irrelevant. An irritating mistake, but not one he needed to concern himself with. She was lost in a world not her own with no knowledge on how to properly wield her magic. He had taken the time to acclimate to the different feel of the aether on their star, letting his body learn to let it flow as he was used to. Time and preparation she did not have. Doubtless, she would be slaughtered by the inhabitants of that desert before she could find what few sympathetic ears there may have been.

With that thought in his mind, the man stepped forward. A swirl of shadowy energy erupted before him, a tear in reality. With one step, he passed through the gate and emerged within the bowels of the Praetorium.

The chamber was almost empty. Almost. A single guardsman recoiled in surprise at his appearance, the garlean fool reaching for his weapon before the robed man glared at him from behind his sinister mask. The guard froze, clearly at a loss for what to do for a moment even as recognition dawned, before he made the wise decision of leaving while he had a chance to do so.

Not even watching as the guard cowered and ran in fear, the figure merely crossed his arms as he waited. He doubted there would be other interruptions, and what better place to converse with his fellows than the dark depths so reminiscent of the void they’d been forced to endure in for so tediously long.

And then he arrived.

Shadows emerged from thin air, much as they had for him, and out stepped another figure so much like himself… and yet… more.

This new arrival was draped in a black cloak as well, though more ornate in certain details that all led to the most glaring difference of all.

The mask.

It was red, denoting a status far higher than his own, far higher than he could ever hope to achieve. A station etched into the stars themselves, one of the driving hopes for a world long forgotten. Even by himself, despite his servitude to them spanning into the annals of history. Such was his curse as one of the black, those who served the will of the Convocation of Fourteen.

For they were Ascians, the last of their kind.

And before him stood the one claiming the Seat of Lahabrea, an unsundered soul in a sea of ghosts and half-things.

The figure was nothing compared to him. And Lahabrea knew it.

“Scarmiglione,” Lahabrea cooly greeted. “You have made yourself scarce as of late…”

Scarmiglione resisted the urge to ball his hand into a fist at his derisive tone. Oh, how he longed for the respect such a station as his brought. Yet the Fourteen held dominion still, despite their failure to save their home. Despite any misgivings he held, he could not deny their strength remained the one hope they had.

Lahabrea. Emet-Selch. Elidibus. Even the sundered seats… All but the long-absent Azem, all working towards the resurrection of the one true God and their world.

He would do his part if it meant the return of Zodiark.

Even if they didn’t always agree with his way of doing so.

“Apologies, Lahabrea. Recent events have done much to divide my attention, but I do believe the progress I have made is quite worth the wait.”

Lahabrea’s lips drew back into a thin-lipped frown. “Is that so…?”

Scarmiglione winced, then nodded. “Yes.”

Lahabrea eyed him for several long seconds, before turning to start walking down the corridor. The intent was clear, and Scarmiglione began to walk beside him. The two began to speak to one another in their ancient tongue, that none may eavesdrop.

“Well, then, Scarmiglione. Tell me, what ‘progress’ have you made?” Lahabrea asked, not turning to look at his inferior. He made no effort to hide the scepticism in his tone.

Scarmiglione frowned but kept his eyes trained carefully forward. “First, I would ask you a question, if you would permit me.”

“Speak.”

Scarmiglione took a deep breath. “As of late, I have been giving a great deal of thought to the conundrum of the Thirteenth, and the state it has been left in,” he began carefully. “Enshrouded and oversaturated as it is with darkness, it is unfit for our purposes, is it not?”

“Indeed,” Lahabrea acknowledged with a nod. “But you know the story already. Our methods were unrefined and untested. We fumbled with that world, and it is now lost to us. Why?”

Scarmiglione took another breath, and a moment to formulate his thoughts. “...I have a theory as to how it might be restored.”

That got Lahabrea’s attention. The two ascians stopped in the middle of the silent corridor and faced one another. Lahabrea crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so? Do tell, then.”

Scarmiglione nodded. “As the thirteenth was swallowed by a flood of darkness, would it not then be possible to push back the shadows by bringing in a comparable flood of light to restore balance?”

Lahabrea frowned. “...In theory, perhaps. But, pray tell, where would one find such an abundance of light? To counter an entire world of darkness, one would need an entire world of light, would they not?”

“Such as the First, yes.”

Lahabrea looked warningly at his underling. “The First is Emet-Selch’s project. I would not have you meddling and making the perilous situation there worse, lest we lose both shards.”

“Do not worry, I merely used it as a point of reference. Whereas the First is close to being consumed by its light, I have found a world bathed in such aether and yet held in near-perfect harmony.”

“I do not know of such a shard, and I have visited all that remain.”

“Not a shard. A star. An unsundered world entirely separate from the Source itself, across the Rift.”

“An unsundered star from another reality? Such worlds are known to exist, but for our purposes, they are useless.”

“Not so. I am close to finding a way of harmonizing the shattered Thirteenth with this star’s light and breathing life back to the shard. Then the rejoining can commence anew.”

“No,” Lahabrea swiftly denied. “Such worlds are beyond our purview, and should not be tampered with. An unsundered star that is not only whole but from another plane of existence being aetherically merged with the Thirteenth? The risks of such an endeavour are unknowable, never mind the lack of a suitable link such as that which exists between the Source and the shards.”

“And that is the problem I am soon to solve, Lahabrea. For the sake of the world and our Lord, you must at least listen to my research!”

“No, I do not have to do anything, Scarmiglione. Your efforts could undo everything. The aether of one unsundered star invading the sundered could result in a calamity ending everything,” the red masked ascian concluded spitefully. “Cease this, lest you face the judgement of the Convocation.”

“I…”

“Enough. Soon, the weapon shall be complete, and the next era shall be born from the rejoining. Assist the Legatus in his preparations and spare no more thought on this ‘project’ of yours. We shall deal with the Thirteenth in due time, but Eorzea must fall if Zodiark is to return.”

The lesser ascian’s lips curled into a snarl, but he otherwise stood in defeat. There was no defying the Convocation, and he knew that fact all too well…

“...Very well. I shall see to it that suitable primals are prepared for the Black Wolf’s crusade.”

“Good. Remember your place, Scarmiglione. You are an instrument of the Convocation, just as we are of our Lord. Never forget this again.”

Without another word, shadows enveloped Lahabrea as he vanished from view.

Scarmilgione was left alone once more, seething at the backhanded rejection of all his work. This! This was why they lost their home! Their world! For all their power, their might, their supposed genius, their stubbornness and lack of imagination was their doom. So mired were they in the tried and true, so slow were they to embark into new territory despite the obvious benefits to their ultimate plans!

So, Lahabrea wanted him to assist with the current rejoining? Fine. He would do so, as he wouldn’t want to ‘disappoint’ his masters, after all.

And yet...

Scarmiglione’s hand slipped into his robe, and when it emerged again, within his vice grip shimmered the Element of Magic.

“Such secrets you have to share, the key for our world’s salvation… no matter what must become of your own.”

He caressed the crystal in an almost doting manner, a wistful smile finding its way onto his features. He had no intention of stopping. Not for some small equine. And certainly not for the Convocation’s hubris.

The power of the Elements would be his, and with it, he would save the world.

Author's Note

And so ends Twilight's first day in Eorzea, and we get to know a bit more of our figure in black...

It should be noted to any of our readers that neither of us are full-on Final Fantasy XIV lore scholars like Ethys Asher. We are working off of what we know and recall, and we are definitely taking a couple of lore liberties to make this stuff work. Just keep that in mind for the future if we make any mistakes. We aren't loremasters here, just people wanting to tell a fun story.

4 - The Bowl of Embers

Twilight’s head hurt.

She let out a long, tired groan as consciousness returned to her. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, her muscles were sore, and her mind was foggy, as if she could go for another few hours of sleep. The air was cool and relatively damp when compared to the heat of the desert, though the ground she was haphazardly splayed out on was hard and rough, undoubtedly made of stone.

“What in the hells is it…?”

“Gods if I know. They just… dragged it in. Maybe the bloody lizards got hungry.”

Twilight’s ear flicked at the sound of someone speaking, their voice thickly accented. Wincing with effort, she forced her eyes to open to take in her surroundings.

She was in a spacious chamber in a seemingly natural cave formation. She could just make out the sound of rippling water off in a dark corner of the room. To her surprise, there were numerous tribalistic braziers arranged, each one lit with a flame to fill the chamber with flickering orange light.

The light from those flames revealed that she was not alone. She stiffened and stifled a gasp at the sight of several of the amalj’aa scattered around in the chamber, each one wielding spears, curved swords, or other weapons of war. One of the towering brutes stood right next to her, its spear pointed right at her throat. She swallowed heavily, and it snarled down at her in warning.

“Right… No trying anything,” she thought to herself. Growing increasingly anxious and fearful, she turned her attention to the ones who had been speaking earlier. She blinked in surprise. They were not amalj’aa. They were all humans—or at least, all of them were humanoid. They were all seated on the ground, their hands behind their backs, and their bodies marred with ugly bruises smears of dirt. It didn’t take more than a second to deduce their hands were bound.

“So, they’re captives, too…”

“Seven hells! Whatever it is, it’s waking up!”

“Gods, as if they weren’t bad enough, what if it’s dangerous?”

“Calm, lad. Looks harmless enough to me, that chubby little thing.”

WHAT!?

Twilight pouted, indignant. “Chubby? Little!?”

“Gwah! It’s alive!”

The men were startled away from her, though the amalj’aa seemed wholly unperturbed by the disturbance. Still, for the moment, Twilight’s eyes remained on the humans scattered around the room. She cautiously sat up, and she saw varying reactions upon their faces as she studied them. One, a grizzled man with a scar across his left eye, seemed merely annoyed at his compatriots’ reactions. Said compatriots were largely surprised, fearful, or both at the same time.

And now she got a good look at them, judging by the helmets and padding they adorned, they appeared to be soldiers of some kind. Though they were bereft of weapons, which made sense considering that they had, seemingly, also been captured by these ‘amalj’aa’ creatures.

Past all the scared faces, however, she could make out one more at the back of the group. Unlike the others, they were not bound—whether they had shaken the rope loose or it was by design she wouldn’t begin to guess—but this man seemed unlike the rest in other aspects too. Their armour, for one, was far more elaborate, consisting of furs and varying jagged metal plates a mixture of browns, reds and blacks. His hair was a dark brown, while his eyes were a piercing blue. Said eyes, right now, looked strangely at the alicorn with a cocked eyebrow that would make Applejack proud.

Her eyes met his, and he merely tilted his head further like a curious Winona might should a strange denizen of Everfree come waltzing in.

Though, she supposed, she was very much a strange denizen to these people.

The grizzled one looked back at the puppy-dog-head-tilting one with a questioning glance.

“Warrior, you’ve travelled across Eorzea, right? Have you seen a creature such as this? Or the other Scions?”

Scions?

The Warrior just shrugged in a non-committal fashion.

“Hey, I’m right here, you know,” Twilight spoke out again in irritation, shuffling slightly away from the guard’s spearpoint.

“Guh, I… Hm…”

“Sarge…” one of the younger soldiers spoke. “What do we do…?”

The sergeant, clearly the leader of this little group, studied her right back for several moments. On her part, Twilight just waited to hear what he had to say. The last time she had given the friendship speech to someone in this place, after all, it had landed her here.

“Hmph. You, I don’t suppose they brought you here to cause us trouble?”

“N-no, that’s not it at all!” Twilight defended herself. “Two of these big guys jumped me out in some Celestia-forsaken desert and knocked me cold with some kind of sleep enchantment. I don’t even know where I am or who you people are!”

“I see. What exactly are you?”

Well, at least they were willing to hear her out this time.

“My name is Twilight. I’m an alicorn from a land… very far from here. Then this black-robed mage showed up and I ended up here somehow.”

She saw movement from the Warrior, his look of childish curiosity changing to a more concerned expression. He made a move forward, opening his mouth to speak before one of the guards barred his path.

“You, no talking. You are trouble, so is she, stay separate. Disobey and people die.”

Twilight watched as the two seemed to size one another up for several moments. The man looked like he wanted to argue, but nevertheless relented and returned to his prior spot at the back.

“Huh, trouble, eh?” the Sergeant pondered. “I get why the Adventurer there would make the bastards shit themselves, but why you?”

“I… I’m a magic-user, though it’s not really working right…”

“Magic! No magic!” an amalj’aa warned. Actually, wasn’t he one of the ones she’d fought before?

It mattered little, because if she started casting then some of the other prisoners might get hurt. Not to mention, with her present handicap, things were bound to get extremely complicated if she even attempted to escape right now.

“Huh, seems you really made an impression… whatever you are. Alicorn, was it? I’ve never heard of such a beast tribe.”

“Beast tribe?”

“You… have never heard of a beast tribe? But I thought-”

“Stop talking! The prisoners will be silent!” the amalj’aa further warned with clear impatience.

“Hm… Seems we’re pushing our luck. I have many more questions, but they’ll have to wait.”

As much as Twilight had a million and two of her own, she couldn’t help but agree with that assessment. As the Sergeant moved back against a nearby rocky wall, not taking his eyes off of her with a clear suspicion remaining in his glare, the alicorn shifted her own focus back to the situation at hoof.

A few minutes passed in tense silence. Many of the younger soldiers glanced about anxiously, shifting uncomfortably in place. Some were whispering quietly under the breath, though Twilight could not make out most of the words. She thought she heard an utterance of ‘twelve’ once or twice, and it sounded like it held some great significance, but it was lost on her for the time being.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the silence was broken. A new amalj’aa entered the chamber from an exit at the far end, this one dressed in far more elaborate garb than the others. Many of the soldiers cowered back or sneered with disdain, while the sergeant and the ‘Adventurer’ maintained neutral glares.

“L-let us go, you bastard!” one of the soldiers tried to bark out, though through the tremor and terror in his voice, it came out as more of a pathetic plea.

The important amalj’aa shot him a burning glare, and the soldier shrank back into silence. A moment later, he turned to one of the guards. “It is time. Bring them forth.”

He said nothing else, leaving the chamber immediately, but the remaining amalj’aa went into motion without hesitation. The soldiers were forcefully hauled to their feet and pushed towards the exit. Twilight was hefted up as well, only now being made aware of a thick collar that had been strapped tightly around her neck as it yanked her onto her hooves. She gasped through its hold and shot an irritated look at the amalj’aa looming over her, but she dared not speak a word of protest.

A thousand and one thoughts raced through her mind as they were led through the tunnel. The way ahead was dark and cramped, leaving precious little space for them all to move. With spears pointed at them from the front and the back, it would be a simple matter for the amalj’aa to gore them all with a moment’s notice.

Twilight’s heart began to race. Where were they being taken? What was going on? Who were these people? She closed her eyes, hoping that, by some miracle, maybe her friends would find a way to come to her rescue. Or Celestia, or Luna, or anyone…

The tunnel soon opened up, and the prisoners were escorted outside. It was dark outside, but Twilight recognized the desert immediately. However, something seemed… off. She looked up at the sky, and her stomach twisted in dread.

“Oh my gosh…”

The sun had been completely eclipsed in shadow. She could just make out its glow as a ring of fiery orange light in the sky. To make matters worse, waves of shifting energy were rolling across the sky, emanating from the sun. Dark blues, greens, oranges and reds. The land below was bathed in a glow of fire and ancient copper, and the contrast sent her mind racing.

What were these creatures doing?!

The soldiers became increasingly anxious as they were led down a slope. Twilight’s eyes widened as she caught sight of numerous structures built into and around the stone slopes and cliffsides, each one made of crudely shaped metal. More braziers and fire pits burned all around, and Twilight spied plenty more amalj’aa scurrying about in an almost frantic frenzy. There was a giddy excitement to their movements that almost reminded Twilight of Pinkie in all of the worst possible ways.

Soon, the ground levelled out, and they passed through a narrow pass in one of the cliff-faces. When they came out onto the other side, Twilight’s breath hitched. An enormous open space was ahead of them, with yet more amalj’aa, all of them armed, standing watch over a staggering number of open crates filled with glowing blue crystals. More were dressed in what appeared to be ceremonial garb, standing in the centre of the natural amphitheatre.

There were also more prisoners awaiting them, one of them thrashing about in his bonds frantically and yelling at the Amalj’aa that stood watch over him.

“W-w-what’s happening?!” the frightened soldier who spoke up earlier asked in a low, quivering voice. “What are they doing?”

“We know damn well what they’re doing,” the Sergeant snarled, his brow furrowing. “The bastards are about to summon their bloody primal… And we’re an offering.”

“Primal?” Twilight echoed, looking over. The Sergeant did not get a chance to answer before he was shoved forward by the shaft of an Amalj’aan spear.

“I said no talking!”

Twilight bit on her tongue to keep from protesting the brutish treatment. As much as it made her skull burn in anger, there was nothing she could do for now. She’d just have to wait for an opening.

Oddly, the ‘Adventurer’ seemed rather calm about the whole situation.

She just hoped that this ‘Primal’ was one of those deities that remained unseen by its followers…

The elaborately-dressed amalj’aa stepped forward with his eyes fixed on the centre of the empty space before them. He raised his staff, beginning to chant as the excitement of the other amalj’aa only increased.

“Lord of Inferno, hearken to our plea! Lord of Inferno, deliver us from our misery!”

The other amalj’aa started to lift their spears into the air, seemingly chanting prayers of their own beneath their breaths. As they did so, Twilight felt something… shift. Like the air grew several degrees hotter, her own magic being tugged by something as the crystals all around them started to glow.

Part of her grew fascinated by this new phenomenon, but a larger part of her still started to gain dread as she realized they were in big trouble…

“O’ mighty Ifrit, Lord of the Inferno! Your humble servants beseech you! Grace us with your divine presence!”

And then the sun exploded.

A great wave of fire blasted out and a swarm of tendrils began creeping down towards the surface, and it was only then that Twilight realized that what she thought was the sun itself was but a conjuration—part of whatever twisted ritual they were undertaking—and it was starting to take form.

Then, from within the inferno, emerged a figure. The creature Twilight beheld could only be described as a demon: a gigantic beast with leathery skin and horns befitting a devil. It let out a horrifying cry, shooting itself into the air amidst a deafening explosion before crashing down before them with enough force to shake the ground beneath them. It let loose a low growl as it stood to tower over them all, the beast’s hateful eyes glancing over them all.

Twilight could feel its power. The magic it radiated. There was so much, almost like it, itself, was magic. She couldn’t help but shrink under its glare, her breath becoming shaky with fear.

“O’ mighty Ifrit! We bring before you ignorant savages who know nothing of your Godhood! If it pleases you, Lord, scorch their heathen souls with your cleansing flame, and mark them as your own!”

“B-bloody hells...!” the Sergeant cursed in defeat.

Cleaning flame? Mark them as his own?

Just as that amalj’aa said she’d be brought to serve before their Lord…

Oh Celestia, was he…? This Ifrit, did he hold magic to seize their minds? Such magic existed in Equestria, but what twisted method would be brought forward here?

And with her magic acting the way it was, she couldn’t even cast a countermeasure…

“Bring these two as well,” the lead amalj’aa spoke, the guards stepping and shoving forward the prisoners that had already been bound and waiting when they’d arrived.

“W-what’s going on!?” one of them shouted as they started to regain consciousness. “Th-this isn’t what we agreed!”

Twilight looked up to the Sergeant questioningly, vaguely aware of the prisoners begging for their lives as he noticed her stare and elaborated.

“The bloody fools sold us out to them. And now we’ll all pay the price for their damned greed.”

Twilight’s terrified gaze was again drawn to the primal, ‘Ifrit’ as the summoner had called it, as it reared up, letting out another guttural growl. It looked pointedly at the treacherous soldiers.

“Pitiful children of man!” Ifrit bellowed, his voice not so much different from his other growls and hisses. A deep, guttural thing that itself shook the earth. “By my breath I claim you! Arise once more as my loyal minions! Feed my flames with your faith, and all who stand against us shall burn!”

“Gods…” the Sergeant whispered in resignation. “Forgive us…”

Ifrit stood up tall, a blue flame rising up his throat and building in his maw. Twilight’s alarm building to an overload as she faced what could very well be the end.

“No… NO!”

Despite the futility, she lit her horn and raised a shield around herself and the other prisoners. Unperturbed, Ifrit bore down upon them and unleashed his flame across them in a torrent of magical energy that ripped away at her barrier and consumed them all.

Twilight clenched her eyes shut, cursing her failure, her inability to save anyone…

“Girls…”

She felt the heat bite at her, could feel it forcing its way into her soul. She could hear him, he was…

...And then it stopped, like whatever was trying to intrude into her very soul was swiftly denied and expunged. The flames died away, Twilight opening her eyes to find her mind still very much her own. There wasn’t a hair out of place on her body. Confused, Twilight looked around as hope ignited that her barrier had worked after all!

“O’ mighty Ifrit…” the Sergeant’s words killed that hope before it gained true traction.

“My one true God…” another soldier muttered as if entranced. “Your words are my bread…”

She… she failed to save them. All of them. The Sergeant she had been speaking with moments ago now prostrated himself before Ifrit with a hollow reverence that clearly advanced well beyond fanaticism. She just stared at him in horror, taking an instinctive step back as she processed all that had occurred.

“No…”

“Huh? The creature, it yet defies our Lord’s will!?” an amalj’aa shouted in alarm.

All eyes turned towards her, the guard brandishing a spear in her direction.

But then, out of the blue, the Adventurer stepped in his path. The armoured man glared at the approaching amalj’aa, stopping them in their tracks, protecting Twilight from their wrath.

“You’re… you’re okay…?”

The man looked back at her, a hard look on his face. He gave a quick, curt nod.

The lead amalj’aa gave an infuriated shriek. “Impossible! By what sorcery do you resist my master’s will?”

He peered around the Adventurer, staring in shock at Twilight.

“What… is this magic…?”

Twilight frowned, following his gaze to… her cutie mark? She blinked in surprise. Her cutie mark glowed with energy, the star shining brilliantly as if it were truly the Element of Magic it represented.

“Could it be…? Your souls already belong to others!? Yes, this is the only explanation!”

A roar of unparalleled rage bellowed from Ifrit, echoing all throughout the natural bowl of embers that surrounded them. He stepped forward with clear intent as even the amalj’aa who worshipped the beast scrambled back in fear for shelter and safety.

“Forsooth, thy mortal frame can serve as vessel for the blessing of but one!” the primal declared with horrid spite. “Yet, I smell not the taint of another upon thee. The aether preventing thy cleansing differs for each soul... Yet the truth of thine allegiance waxeth clear enough—thou art of the godless blessed’s number.”

“W-what do you mean? I don’t worship any deity!” Twilight protested. Well, except for Celestia maybe, but that hardly counted.

Ifrit merely snorted. “No matter. The paragons warned of thine abhorrent kind. Whoever you may each serve, your existence is not to be suffered!”

With that, Ifrit slammed his open palm down onto the ground. Twilight yelped as a wave of flames blasted out from the point of impact, entrapping her in a circular wall of flames with Ifrit and the thus-far silent adventurer.

She took a step back, her breath starting to come in frantic gasps. This was bad! What was she supposed to do in a situation like this?! She couldn’t fight against a creature like this without the use of her magic or wings! Even if she could call on some of her power, it wouldn’t be nearly enough on her own.

No magic… No friends… She was useless...

The Adventurer, however, stood his ground. Unmoved by the so-called God’s boasts and displays of power, he stood against his aura of rage and hatred unflinching in his resolve. The Adventurer glanced to the side; Twilight followed his eyes to a scattering of weapons that had been left behind as the amalj’aa fled. One axe, in particular, matched the aesthetic of his armour, and it was this weapon that he dashed towards.

Ifrit roared, sending his claw towards the man as he rolled from its grasp and took hold of the weapon. With a determined shout, he raised the axe into the air and brought it to bear against the blackened claw. The blow met its mark, Ifrit recoiling in pain as the Adventurer returned to Twilight’s side.

“Can you fight?” he asked plainly.

Twilight stared at him. This man... he didn’t have any magic as far as she had seen, just his armour and an axe in hand, and yet here he stood. Even before that, unarmed and surrounded, he had placed himself between her and their captors without hesitation. A common man as he, standing up to resist this horrific abomination…

And here she, an alicorn and Princess of Equestria, was cowering in self-pity.

No longer.

Twilight lit her horn. Her powers may have been stifled, but she was still the Bearer of the Element of Magic! No matter how much she had to channel, it would obey her!

She nodded to the adventurer, moving to stand at his side with confidence channelling back into her being. She imagined her friends by her side, encouraging her, waiting for her return.

She wasn’t going to let this apparition of magic stop that.

Ifrit studied the two, his rage growing further still at their defiance, if that were even possible. He gave one last roar, the flames around them billowing in response, preparing his next attack as the Adventurer swung his axe into motion and charged.

5 - The Lord of the Inferno

For such a large creature, Ifrit was frighteningly fast and nimble. So Twilight discovered as she and her new friend charged the flaming behemoth. Ifrit lunged toward them to meet their charge far faster than she had been anticipating, one claw rising up and igniting in flames. For a brief moment, Twilight felt her legs locking up, but forced herself to power through it. She channelled magic quickly into her horn and fired what she could muster at the raised limb in the hopes of knocking the swipe off course.

Sadly, as had become the norm since arriving in this land, Twilight’s spell did not pack quite the punch she had been hoping for. The flickering beam of lavender light struck against Ifrit’s wrist just as he brought it down, but the primal did not seem to care about the attack. Twilight’s ears folded back.

“Horseapples.”

“Move!” the warrior shouted, bodily shoving her off to one side, out of the way of Ifrit’s claw. She yelped, falling from her hooves to roll across the ground. She heard a loud metallic clang and her comrade’s pained grunt. A surge of cold raced through her veins, and she quickly lifted her head.

To her relief, he had caught the claw on the shaft of his axe. The force of the blow had forced him down onto one knee, however, and his expression was contorted with strain.

Ifrit’s eyes burned, flames crawling out of his mouth. Twilight’s heart skipped a beat as his gnarled fingers curled around the shaft of the warrior’s axe. With a roar, Ifrit lifted the warrior into the air, eliciting a shout of alarm from him.

“No!” Twilight exclaimed, launching to her hooves and gathering more magic. She raced through her options, trying to think of a solution to this, the first of undoubtedly countless problems she’d face today.

Offence was out, at least when she didn’t have time to charge. She needed to find another way to contribute to the fight.

Luckily, combat-specific spells had never been her speciality, and she was quite adaptable.

Stepping forward, Twilight formed a pearl of light on the tip of her horn. “Look away!” she shouted before firing the pearl up towards Ifrit’s face. The warrior followed the command without question, closing his eyes and looking away from Ifrit, while the primal merely blinked in confusion. Twilight closed her eyes as well.

There was a muffled pop, and Ifrit’s enraged roar as the spell went off without a hitch. The pearl of light exploded outwards like a high-yield firework. Red and purple sparks flew in all directions and would have been blinding at such a short-range. That spell would normally be used as an emergency signal flare, but for the moment, it served well as a flashbang.

Ifrit released his hold on the axe, sending Twilight’s new friend sailing into the air. He flailed for a moment before managing to right himself just in time to hit the ground hard, sliding back with his feet digging trenches into the sandy dirt. He let off a sigh once after coming to a stop, shooting a grateful glance in Twilight’s direction.

“Gah! Insolent mortals!” Ifrit bellowed, not giving the two time for any more than that. Twilight yelped as he spun on her next, and lunged with the agility of a cheetah. She ducked low, barely avoiding a swipe of his claw that would have taken her head clean off. Her throat jumped as she felt the air displaced by the sharp tips of his claws pass less than an inch from her head.

She spun to face Ifrit as he shot by her, but then caught movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to face Ifrit’s tail as it lashed against her like a whip, driving the air from her lungs. Fiery pain exploded through her barrel, and stars danced across her vision. The ground dropped away beneath her, and she was sent sailing through the air to land and slide several feet away, dangerously close to the wall of fire.

Whether through actual lucidity or just blind instinct, Twilight crawled away from the raging flames as her vision swam in and out of focus. She was aware of Ifrit’s roar of rage, and the beast’s approach towards her. It was hard to miss that blackened shadow, even amidst the crackle and pops of the fire and the chaos it brought to the general area. After a moment, though, the world around her visually solidified once more as she looked up into two very displeased eyes.

“Wuh-oh.”

Before Ifrit could do anything more than snarl threateningly, a strikingly familiar axe came flying through the air and embedded itself into Ifrit’s back. The creature bellowed out once again, stepping away from the alicorn as it tried to reach for the protruding weapon.

The Adventurer did the job for him, grabbing ahold of the handle and retrieving his weapon before rolling under another swipe and raising his axe in response.

The hit proved any impressions Twilight had that this man was entirely without magic oh so wrong.

He gave his axe an expert flourish, driving it into Ifrit’s side amidst a prismatic flash that would make Rainbow Dash’s mane jealous. Magical energies radiated from the axe as it struck, eliciting a small explosion that turned a blow that may have failed to penetrate Ifrit’s natural armour into one that left an oozing wound.

“Raaaah! Burn!”

As Twilight hoisted herself back to her hooves, she saw a circle of flames begin to form around both herself and her new friend individually. She didn’t exactly need his startled expression to know that this was not a good sign, and suppressing a yelp she flapped her wings to propel herself haphazardly to the side before a complete eruption of flames engulfed where she had just been.

Fortunately, her little act of avoidance had landed her by the pile of discarded weapons.

How hard could it be to use the spear she randomly tore from the pile with her magic?

She quickly spun around, feeling the earth trembling beneath her hooves. Ifrit was charging her, claws raised to slam her into the ground. Twilight grit her teeth, spying her new friend somewhere behind Ifrit. She wasn’t much good head-on, so she had to get back to him and fast.

She refocused on Ifrit and charged him. Her heart hammered against her chest, and she yet again keenly felt just how small she was in comparison to the Lord of the Inferno. With a shout that was one-third a war cry and two-thirds a panicked shriek, she ducked low and thrust the spear up towards Ifrit’s jaw.

Snap.

Twilight barely evaded Ifrit’s attack, ducking under him and diving, belly first, onto the hot, dry ground. She slid for a few feet before quickly scrambling back to her hooves at the warrior’s side. She spun to face Ifrit and lifted her stick, ready for-

Wait a second.

Twilight’s jaw dropped when she realized that the tip of her spear was gone, leaving a blackened, charred stump in its wake. “W-what?” she asked in bewilderment.

A low, repetitive rumbling noise came from ifrit, and Twilight quickly realized it was a laugh of amusement. The primal turned around to face her with his maw split into a fang-filled grin. Twilight’s heart fell into the pits of her stomach at the sight of the tip of her spear—or what was left of it, rather—melting and dribbling harmlessly down Ifrit’s jaw and chest.

She turned to the adventurer. “Why doesn’t your weapon melt?!” she asked incredulously, throwing the shaft aside in a childish huff.

The warrior shrugged cluelessly.

And then he charged in again.

“This guy is crazy, and right now I think I’m okay with that.”

As he ran in, another swirl of light danced around the Adventurer as new strength seemed to radiate from the man. He placed his spiked gauntlet in front of his face and tanked a burst of flame before taking hold of his axe with both hands and spinning towards Ifrit in a full three-hundred and sixty degrees. The axe’s length stretched out wide, the weapon coming around like a raging tempest as it cut a gash through Ifrit’s body.

Twilight only admired the act for a split second before attempting to circle around the back of the would-be god.

Responding to the man’s strike, Ifrit batted aside the next before attempting to stamp down on him and flatten him underfoot. He nimbly sidestepped the attempt and brought his blade onto the limb. Ifrit shrieked, and flames gathered within his maw above the warrior.

Twilight shot one of her infuriatingly feeble bolts at his head, hardly hurting the primal but providing just enough force to knock his flames to one side, bathing the ground by the adventurer’s side. He crouched down and shielded himself from the splash zone of the assault.

Ifrit turned his eyes towards Twilight. Her coat stood on end beneath his glare as she reached out with her magical aura for the entirety of the weapon pile. Each blade glowed lavender, being roughly propelled towards the dark deity in a flurry of iron and steel.

The weapons cascaded against his form, most sharing the spear’s fate while only the most well-made left small gashes and scratches on his scaled hide. Even they, unlike the ornate axe of the Adventurer, soon melted away from Ifrit’s heat.

Snarling, Ifrit sent a wave of flame towards Twilight that singed her as she threw herself beneath the incoming torrent. Fortunately, however, it seemed the strike had been merely an underpowered deterrent to delay her as he turned his full attention back to the human hacking away with relentless abandon.

Not to be deterred while a friend was in danger, Twilight jumped back to her hooves and started to run back towards her enemy.

“Begone!”

Ifrit gave out an almighty roar, a burst of energy shooting out all around Ifrit and immediately knocking the air from Twilight’s lungs. Both she and the Adventurer were sent tumbling back, each narrowly avoiding a fall into the flaming wall around their impromptu arena. While Twilight again found herself on her back, an irritatingly familiar position by now, her ally skidded to a halt in a crouched position, his axe having been driven into the ground to help grind him to a halt.

Ifrit wasn’t done with him, though, as a great surge of energy swelled inside the beast. The air around him began to glow and ripple, and waves of scorching heat radiated out from him, hot enough to burn at Twilight’s flesh and force her to back away even further. More flames leaked from Ifrit’s maw, gathering until they seemed fit to burst out like a flood through a broken dam.

Her crouched friend, left with no time or room to escape, would be caught right in the middle of the oncoming torrent.

“Get out of there!” Twilight could only shout as she clambered back up, but any word of warning came too late as Ifrit let loose all his pent-up rage and struck out at the Adventurer.

The inferno scorched all in its path, consuming everything within a cone before him. The man who was the target of this extreme hatred could do nothing but brace for the flames. Twilight just made out the formation of a ring of hexagonal-shaped magic barriers around him before the torrent fully engulfed and obscured his visage. The barrage, unrelenting in its conviction and will to end him, seemed to go on for an extraordinarily long time.

Eventually, it seemed, even Ifrit’s malevolence had its limits, and the inferno tapered off and revealed the smouldering landscape it had left behind.

A pit formed deep within Twilight’s stomach. Surely, after such an attack, nothing would even be left of her friend. Molten armour and a char across the ground, nothing more. This thing… how could it…?

Yet, when the smoke cleared, there he was.

Twilight stepped forward, a surge of relief flooding her veins. It was to be short-lived, however. Her ears drooped, and a hoof lifted up to cover her muzzle when she saw the state the warrior was in. He was smoking horribly, with small flames licking at the air from the fur that lined his armour. His head was bowed, his entire body was trembling, and she could just barely hear his breathless, agonized wheezed from here.

He was alive, and only just barely.

“Thou art strong, mortal,” Ifrit bellowed, lifting his hand up for the finishing blow. “But not strong enough!”

Twilight took another step forward. “NO!” she cried out, desperation replacing her dread and relief. She had to do something! Thus far, in spite of her best efforts, she had been all but useless in this fight! She was practically depending on this man to keep her alive right now, but he was no longer in any condition to fight. Her mind raced, going through all of her options, only to discard each of them in turn. With her magic crippled as it was, none of those spells would work.

Ifrit’s claw began to descend, leaving an arc of flames behind it.

Instinct took over. Twilight channelled whatever magic she could, without thought, without direction, all driven by the sole, solitary desire to save her new friend. To protect, to heal, all without her internal calculations, just the will to do. The magic built on her horn, and then released with a flare of light.

To her surprise, the light was teal.

That same teal light engulfed her friend, and a soothing sound, like wind-chimes muffled by water, radiated out from him. Dancing stars of blue radiated out from the swirl of magic.

Ifrit hesitated for only a second, visibly confused.

The warrior’s axe rose out of the swirling light, slamming into the underside of Ifrit’s jaw, splitting the scales open with a blood-curdling crunch and a spurt of glowing magma. Ifrit roared in agony, staggering back with his claws covering his face. The air and ground shook under the volume of his cry and the weight of his feet backpedalling from the strike.

Twilight blinked in surprise, taken aback. “What… what did I just… What was that spell?!” she asked in confusion. She had never cast anything quite like that before, and the colour of it hadn’t matched her magic in the slightest.

The light faded, revealing that the warrior had risen back to his feet. He was still gasping for breath, but where he had been a hair’s breadth from collapse mere moments ago, he now looked to be in fighting shape again. He shot her a look and gave a sharp nod and cheeky thumbs-up before refocusing his attention on Ifrit.

She just gave him an unsure grin in return.

“How the heck did I do that?”

More magma pooled out from the open wound on Ifrit’s jaw, splattering against the ground to sizzle and pop like oil on a frying pan. He lowered his claws, eyes burning with volcanic rage. Without a word, Ifrit lifted his claws and drove them down into the ground. A pulse of flaming magic radiated outwards, and the magmal blood that had pooled beneath him suddenly rose up.

“What the-?!” Twilight exclaimed as the now levitating blood took on the form of a tall, crooked, thorn-covered nail. The air around it began to pulse and glow with yet more magic, and Twilight realized that the energy it was producing was flowing back into Ifrit.

In response, Ifrit’s scales began to radiate with more and more power, until he was practically glowing like a miniature sun himself. He grinned widely and lifted his head high. “Surrender to the fires of my judgement!” he roared, pulsing with more light.

Twilight didn’t know what would happen if what would happen when the nail had nothing left to pour into him, but she was in no mood to find out.

She jabbed a hoof at the nail. “It’s feeding him more power!” she shouted. “Stop it!”

The warrior nodded and charged forward. Ifrit confirmed Twilight’s suspicions that the nail was important by intercepting him, his claws lashing out in a furious flurry of slashing flames. Twilight stepped back to get clear of the storm of steel and fire, trying to find any opening to get at the nail herself. Unfortunately, all of her advances were cut off by Ifrit as well, who routinely broke away from fighting the adventurer to lash out at her and keep her at bay.

Twilight bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between the nail and Ifrit. They needed to find some way of holding Ifrit’s attention.

Ifrit came down on her friend yet again, forcing him down onto one knee with another downward strike of his claws. As the two struggled against one another, snarling into each other’s faces, the warrior shot a look at Twilight. He braced his shoulder against the shaft of his axe, giving him room to reach down and pull something out of one of the folds of his armour.

Twilight blinked in surprise to see a thick, blackened chain with an ominous hook at the end of it. How would that help? She looked up into his eyes again, and he jerked his head up towards Ifrit in an expectant matter, also shaking the chain for emphasis.

Did he want her to get his attention? Twilight wasn’t entirely sure what the plan was, but she understood that to spell it out loud enough for her to hear would be counterproductive, and they didn’t exactly have time for a planning session.

Now, to get Ifrit’s attention.

Without a plan, Twilight simply gathered magic on her horn and hefted up the biggest rock she could find. She glared at the side of Ifrit’s head and pelted the rock at him with all the force she could manage. “Hey! Er, Fire-face!” she yelled.

“Real creative.”

The rock struck Ifrit in the temple with an audible crack, eliciting an irritated snort from the primal. He turned his hellfire glare on her with a low snarl, and she was suddenly not so sure about anything she was doing.

“Bothersome gnat,” Ifrit growled. With a snarl, he batted the warrior aside with his free claw, then turned to stalk towards Twilight. She backed away, sweat rolling down her neck with her breath coming in faster gasps. It was clear he was toying with her. She had barely been an annoyance to him this entire time.

Then came the chain.

As if guided by preternatural precision, the warrior’s chain came forward from behind Ifrit, wrapping over his shoulder so the hook embedded itself in his chest. Ifrit’s eyes widened in surprise, and a pained snort escaped him before he was suddenly tugged back.

Twilight turned her attention to the Adventurer just in time to see his axe sailing through the air toward her. She let out an undignified yelp and just barely caught it with her magic. She blinked in confusion before lowering the axe to see her new friend running along the edge of the ring of fire, dragging Ifrit along the whole way. Their gazes locked, and the warrior nodded toward the nail.

And now Twilight knew what the plan was.

The axe was heavy, but in her magic, she knew she could impart significant force with it. She turned her attention to the infernal nail, took a deep breath, and charged in. She let out a shout of effort and brought the axe against the nail’s shaft. The blade bit into the arcane surface, sending drops of magma and a pressurized wave of heat radiating from the point of impact.

Ifrit’s following roar of rage told her she was on the right track.

She pulled the axe back out of the wound and reared back for another strike. She just caught sight of the warrior being lifted into the air by his own chain. Ifrit had taken a hold of it and yanked, sending the man sailing toward the Lord of the Inferno. He released his grip on the chain shortly before he reached the primal, tucked himself just right, and drove his foot into Ifrit’s face, barely escaping his grasping claws.

While Ifrit slid back from the force of the kick, the warrior fell gracelessly to the ground. He rolled onto his belly and turned to Twilight. “NOW!”

She didn’t need to be told twice. With another shout of effort, she swung the axe again, driving it into the wedge she had already created. With a sound like shattering ice, the nail was cleft in twain. The severed halves hung in the air for a moment, flickered, and then faded into nothingness, dissipating like a mirage in the desert.

The air around it cooled, and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

Her relief did not last, as Ifrit’s indignant rage sounded across the desert in a deafening roar.

“Thy soul shall burn for eternity!”

There was a thump in the earth, and Twilight realized that Ifrit was leaping for her position. She paled and quickly ducked out of the way, flapping her wings for the extra momentum. She just barely avoided it when Ifrit slammed down where she had just been, kicking up dirt and sand that clung to her coat and stung her eyes. She rolled along for a few feet before coming to a landing, the axe embedding itself into the ground by her side.

The air was getting hotter. It was becoming hard to breathe through the scorching heat. Twilight lifted her eyes to see Ifrit lifting into the air and curling into a ball. She realized with a feeling of dread that while they had stopped him from reaching full power by breaking that nail, he had still absorbed enough from it that the unleashing of it all would not result in a small explosion.

She braced herself and screwed her eyes shut. She felt something taking a position over her just before the detonation occurred.

The heat was agony. Flames tore up from the earth beneath her and around her, searing at her flesh. She curled into a ball, grateful that these arcane flames did not seem capable of igniting her fur, or she would have died then and there. The torrent of flames washed over her for what felt like an eternity before, at least, they tapered off, and she felt the air cooling back down.

Light-headed from both pain and heat, she looked blearily up. The warrior had taken a position over her, shielding her from the worst of the explosion with his back. His expression was contorted in pain, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips all the same. As if to say ‘good job.’

Any jubilation was short-lived, Ifrit giving a prolonged shriek of rage high into the heavens. He slammed his fists down into the dirt, the flame wall around them flaring up as he continued to rant and rave a mix of low growls and psychotic cries.

“Burn! Die! Begone from this place! Begone!”

The Adventurer turned back to Ifrit, Twilight at his side as he bore down upon them once more.

“You… Thou must DIE!”

He slammed down again, this time letting out another wave of energy, but this time the rabid magicks snaked their way through the ground. The mana seemed to coalesce around the outer edges of the arena, the ground beneath them cracking and flaring up until it started to resemble lava.

Wordlessly, the two shot forwards toward the centre where the ground remained unchanged. Unfortunately, this path led them towards a waiting Ifrit. Not that they had much of a choice, as almost immediately after crossing the threshold the entirety of the area behind them erupted in a radiant plume of incinerating heat.

But now Ifrit had them where he wanted them.

The air around them began to heat once more, energy building within Ifrit as the sheer aura he radiated became deafening. He was, as Twilight realised, repeating the trick that had very nearly killed her friend not so long before. Only, this time, he channelled even more of his magic into the strike.

He was giving everything he had, and this time nothing would be left behind to heal.

And yet, despite how close he had come to dying previously, Twilight felt nothing from the Adventurer. Looking up at his face, she saw him glance down at her with a forming smirk. He didn’t lose it as he glared up at Ifrit, the fire in his eyes dwarfing anything Ifrit could ever hope to conjure. His axe was readied before him, his confidence not fading even as Ifrit readied himself for the end.

Yet, even he had to have realised, this wasn’t as before. Before he had been staggered, vulnerable, all but helpless against him.

This time, he was ready for it.

The Adventurer sparked to life with magicks dancing around his form, stamping a foot into the ground with enough enhanced strength to crack it. As Ifrit’s flames came, he raised his axe high into the air, allowing the power to form various shields surrounding them. The flames smashed harmlessly against them, seemingly absorbed and dispersed. All of Ifrit’s might only served to empower the warrior further, and Twilight had never felt a powerful aura quite like he displayed. It was almost as if a blinding light was washing over everything in the vicinity, originating from the warrior himself.

And as Ifrit’s own strength faltered, the Adventurer’s peaked as he slammed his axe into the ground with a strength surpassing anything even the strongest earth pony could muster. The earth was shattered from the strike, rocks shifting and springing up from the ground with what was left of Ifrit’s flames entirely nullified.

Ifrit himself couldn’t even manage another shriek as the strike caused him to blunder backwards, entirely off-balance from the sudden wall of rock and his own spent energy.

However, even now, the primal managed enough of a recovery to fall forwards and tear away at the wall.

“Thou... shalt… perish!”

No, she couldn’t let him recover! After all the warrior beside her had done to get them this far, she had to stop him!

Twilight unfurled her wings, kicking off the ground with enough of a force to send her gliding towards Ifrit. Her hooves latched onto his completely dumbstruck face, her magic forming enough of a barrier around herself to stave off the heat, if only for the singular moment she needed. As the weakened defence buckled against his power, she let out a shout, shut her eyes tight, and loosed another blinding flare that sent Ifrit stumbling back once more.

Her brittle barrier collapsing, Twilight fell safely away from the beast’s heat and landed with a thud in the dirt. Ifrit, meanwhile, clutched his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes with an extremely undignified and un-god-like whimper that almost made her feel sorry for the creature.

Almost.

But it mattered little, because with its energy all but spent and its eyes momentarily blinded, it was all the Adventurer needed.

He struck forward, axe clenched tightly. With one last battle cry, he slid to a stop under Ifrit, drawing the primal’s attention. Ifrit looked down, though it was clear he still could not see. The warrior adjusted his grip on his axe and jumped straight up, swinging it wide and fast.

Slice.

Twilight resisted the urge to cheer in victory as the blade of the axe cut cleanly through Ifrit’s neck and severed his head from his shoulders. The warrior shot up and past Ifrit, magma trailing behind him and sliding off the now blackened edge of his axe. The warrior went into an almost graceful front flip, coming to a landing behind Ifrit in a wide stance.

The headless primal remained motionless. Twilight watched, holding her breath. “Was that it? Is it over?” She had seen a lot of freaky stuff in the past few minutes, and she would not be surprised if Ifrit had a healing factor.

Such fears were proven to be baseless, thankfully, as the primal’s body began to glow with a soft, flickering blue. The body slumped forward, making the ground shake as it collapsed, before disappearing entirely in a flash of blue light. The flames vanished, and the energy radiating out of the eclipse overhead dulled, leaving all bathed in a serene dullness.

The ring of flames sputtered and faded, leaving the bowl of embers in complete silence.

“We… we did it…” she breathed out, falling to her haunches in relief. A giddy laugh slipped past her lips, and she giddily threw herself back against the ground to look up at the sky. “We actually did it! Ha! I can’t believe it!”

Armoured footsteps approached, and the warrior came to a stop by her side. He looked down at her with a wide, if tired, smile. He didn’t say anything and simply gave her a warm, grateful nod before holding out his hand to help her up.

Twilight took his hand in her grasp without a second thought.

He helped her up, though he seemed a little perplexed at her hoof grasping his hand as if it had fingers, but he decided against a comment for the time being.

Twilight paid it little mind, looking at the burnt ground around them. Nothing even remained of Ifrit. He truly had just been a magical manifestation. Had he even been really alive? What about the people he controlled now that he was gone? More questions to answer, but at least she had the time. A look at the soldiers they’d been imprisoned with, cowering fearfully amidst the amalj’aa homes nearby, caused no small pang of pity in her heart.

She glanced back, hearing more armoured footsteps approaching from somewhere nearby. They echoed quite a distance, and she thought she could hear the sounds of a clash from their direction as well.

“Friends of yours…?”

The Adventurer hummed.

“Right… Okay… Wow… You okay…?”

He gave her a small smile, followed by an oddly stoic nod.

“Yeah… good… that’s… good.”

Okay, wow. Now she really thought about it, had they really just gone through all that!? Tirek had been one thing, but this was a whole other level. She wanted to laugh, cry and scream all at the same time, and yet, if only due to her newest friend’s presence, she resisted all such urges.

He looked at her with concern in his eyes.

“I’m… I’m fine,” she lied. “So, um, what’s your name?”

He looked at her for a moment, then opened his mouth to answer. Before he could speak, however, his eyes were drawn to something. He frowned, walking past her towards the spot where Ifrit had fallen.

“Huh? What is it?”

He didn’t answer, simply continuing to march forward. Twilight glanced ahead of him, spotting a small red crystal sitting on the dirt where Ifrit had been.

“What is- huh?”

The alicorn’s eyes widened as the crystal pulsed at his approach. The object began to glow before, against all notions of gravity, it floated up off the ground. The Adventurer held out a hand, the crystal floating before him as his eyes glazed over. The thing seemed to glow brighter still before coming to a rest within his outstretched hand. Several moments passed them by, Twilight looking on while biting her lip in concern. Then, quite as suddenly as it had started, it ended.

The warrior’s eyes returned to normal, the man jolting slightly as if waking from a dream.

“Are… you okay…?”

He glanced at her, pocketing the crystal before shrugging.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

He grinned like a sheepish idiot and shook his head.

She rolled her eyes. “At least finish telling me your-”

“Pray forgive my lateness!” a new voice shouted from not far away.

“Who…?”

Both of them looked off to the side, and they were just in time to witness a small army of men come rushing in towards them. Most were adorned in the same uniforms of those who had been imprisoned, though there were some in a variation that signified, perhaps, a different branch of their order. They were a varied bunch, too. While many were human, several were of races Twilight had never seen. All were similar to humans, but some held pointed ears while others somewhat resembled the abyssinians of her world, albeit without most of the fur. Others, meanwhile, seemed to be but children if it wasn’t for the deadly weapons they carried with them.

But it was the man leading them that caught her attention the most, both due to his differing garb and him being the one to have called out. His hair was pure white, a similarly coloured choker around his neck alongside a purple tattoo. He wore a long-sleeved white undershirt with a black shirt on top of it. Dark green pants disappeared into knee-high, thick black boots. Most unusual of all was a strange set of metallic goggles strapped to his arm.

“I was delayed by a congregation of amalj’aa zealots. I swear, each seems more evangelical than the last.”

Twilight almost yelped when there was a sudden growl behind them, spinning around to see one of Ifrit’s previous summoners rushing towards them in a wild fury.

“Hmph. Persistent lot!”

Twilight saw a shape rush by her, the man jumping into the air and spinning over the amalj’aa. The glint of a knife caught her eye, soon becoming three as he threw the daggers towards the creature. They met their mark, and Twilight’s former captor fell silently to the ground as his killer landed in what she could only describe as a superhero landing.

“That is not good for his back, surely! Or his knees.”

“Phew,” he gave a cocky smirk as he looked up at the Adventurer.

And, finally, his face settled on Twilight, and a look of confusion came over his features.

“Um…” he spoke. “Did I miss something?”

The warrior just smiled.

6 - Drybone

Twilight was impressed by her new friends’ ability to convey so much information in so few words. The events she had just gone through would have taken her several minutes to convey, and that’s if she were abridging the events for brevity. The axe-wielding human, however, managed to explain the whole situation in under one. She wasn’t even sure he used more than one sentence.

Of course, a lot of the terms flew right over her head, but that didn’t really matter at the moment.

The new arrival listened intently, his eyes routinely darting over to look at Twilight. She fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, not sure what to do or if she should say anything. Eventually, once the warrior finished recounting the tale, the white-haired man nodded.

“Well, it certainly sounds like you went and had all the fun without me,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders and a small, friendly smile. “A pity, though I do not envy you the task of facing off against Ifrit…”

Before he could say anything else, a loud sound tore through the air, causing Twilight to jump. She looked up, her ears folding back in alarm. It was a war horn, of that she was certain, and there were the guttural battle cries of the Amalj’aa blended in with it.

The white-haired man swore under his breath. “Damn it all! We’ll have to continue this discussion later. The Amalj’aa aren’t like to be pleased that you slew their god, and I’d rather not be here to receive their ‘complaints,’” he said. He turned and beckoned for the Adventurer to follow. “Come with me! You can tell me more back at Drybone!”

Twilight blinked even as her new friend made to follow. She took a step after them, her ears folding back. “W-wait!” she called, causing both of them to come to a stop.

The white-haired man’s eyes flew wide in response. “By the Twelve! It can speak?!” he asked in surprise.

Twilight’s nose wrinkled in annoyance. “That’s ‘she,’ and yes I can speak!” she shot back in indignation.

The man blinked a few times before his face relaxed. “Well… It’s not like that’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, a more loose smile adorning his features.

Twilight kept her gaze on him for a moment before looking down at the ground. She took a deep breath. This was it, her chance to make some allies, figure out where she was, and hopefully get some help finding that man in the black mask. She lifted her gaze back to the man and set her jaw. “Can… can I come with you?”

The man blinked in surprise. His brow furrowed in thought.

Twilight took a pleading step forward. “Please. I have no idea where I am, what’s going on, and I could really use some help. My home might be in danger and I have no idea who else to turn to! You people are the first friendly things I’ve met since I got here!”

The white-haired man eyed her for a few more seconds, a conflict raging behind his eyes. The war horn sounded again, and the distant clash of battle being joined echoed over the mesas. He grimaced and turned to the Adventurer, silently asking for his input. In response, he got a large smile and a confident nod.

The white-haired man studied him for a second, before finally relenting. He turned back to Twilight. “Alright, fine then. It’s not safe here, anyway. Come along, swiftly! I have plenty of questions, but they can wait till we’re far away from here!” he said sternly.

Twilight sighed with relief and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. With that, the group turned and fled from the bowl of embers, leaving the sounds of distant battle behind. As they went, Twilight took a deep breath, and a surge of hope and confidence sprung into life in her chest, a much-needed oasis in the desert of doubt and anxiety she’d been stumbling through so far.

“So, that was the ‘mighty’ Ifrit...”

The sarcasm dripping from the man’s tone was almost as poignant as the look of pure boredom on his features. He lazily gazed down at a device on his wrist, profoundly disappointed with the lacklustre results it displayed. He closed it up, unable to help himself as he spitefully spat to one side before standing with a glare of pure poison.

“And what a disappointment he was. The readings are nowhere near what I had anticipated, even taking Ul’dahn interference into account.”

He was adorned in plate armour coloured a deep crimson with gold trimmings. Dirty blonde hair was swept back over his head, leaving all of his well-chiselled and lightly-stubbled face visible to the world. On the ground beside him was his helmet, vaguely reminiscent of a dragon’s head.

He was knelt down on one knee at the top of a towering mesa that overlooked the bowl of embers, joined by a companion adorned in similar armour, albeit hers was coloured a bright white, and her features were obscured by a helmet with a black design on the faceplate that looked almost like a skull.

He let out a sigh, eyes curiously shifting from the vanquished Ifrit to those that had done the vanquishing. Now there was an odd sight, and one far more interesting to his eyes given the lacklustre performance from the intended mark.

As he looked, he only paid vague attention to the white armoured individual standing impatiently behind him.

“You should know better than to rely upon five-year-old data left behind by the VIIth legion,” the said figure rebuked. “Nor can we expect any support from the motherland, given the troubles at court. We have only ourselves to rely on.”

“Ever the pessimist, Livia. Promise me you’ll never change.”

“We’ve wasted enough time here. That meter of yours is too old to give any readings worth a damn,” Livia sas Junius retorted as the last vestiges of patience she held for the man ebbed away.

Nero tol Scaeva shook his head. “Not that there was aught worth a damn for it to read… and yet…”

Any further train of thought was once again forgotten as he focused on the strange creature accompanying the Ul’dahns and their meddling Scion friends. It had spoken, it had fought alongside their latest champion, and it had ultimately contributed in felling the pathetic excuse for a god they’d fought.

Not an achievement he believed to be of particular note, considering—and yet, this creature resembled none he had ever encountered. Aside from a scarce few equines perhaps, but no mount truly resembled this small lavender-coated beast. The potency of the magic it had displayed wasn’t really anything to write back to Garlemald about either…

And yet…

He opened his device once more, levelling it at the equine as it began to depart with the others before the local beast tribe could resume hostilities. It beeped and whirred for several moments, locking onto the thing before she finally vanished from sight. Not quick enough, however, as Nero’s device successfully got an aetheric signature from it. He gazed down at the meter, watching it calculate with a growing fascination.

“Well then. That is more like it.”

Livia glared down at him. “Excuse me?”

“Despite the relatively poor display of magic on its part, that… thing has reserves far deeper than I could have ever anticipated by looking at it. How curious. I’d say it may even have more potential than that poor excuse for a primal it just fought.”

“Really?” she replied doubtfully. “Perhaps your device is not merely old, but just defective.”

“I assure you, it works as intended,” he snarled back. “Oddly, despite the lack of prowess shown, that creature has more than enough aether that one could be forgiven for believing it a primal itself. Perhaps not on the level of, say, Garuda. At least not now, but one must wonder what it could do given the right amount of crystals…”

“Surely you jest. If that were the case, Ifrit would have fallen with greater ease. Not to mention he would have recognized her as a fellow so-called ‘god.’”

“Indeed. It is no primal, and the proficiency on display calls into question its experience. Perhaps it was merely holding back to not let the Scion know of its true strength, or perhaps it is merely unable to reach its full potential as of yet. Either way, I’d love to pick it apart and see what makes it tick…”

“That is not our mission here. We are to select candidates for the Ultima Weapon, not to satisfy your idle curiosity.”

“Ah, dear Livia, but don’t you see?” he responded with a smirk. “An unknown creature with the potential to surpass the primals themselves? The Ultima Weapon would surely benefit from such an influx of aether.”

“And yet it is not a primal, thus it is irrelevant.”

“Not yet, at least.”

“Enough!” she shut him down quickly. “You dare to entertain the thought of disobeying Lord Gaius? I shall hear none of it, especially when those thoughts ascertain to such crude barbarism!”

“You think too small. I am the expert here, and I know an opportunity when it presents itself.”

“I shall hear no more of this, or I shall save him the trouble of disciplining you. Am I understood?”

Nero frowned, gritting his teeth in aggravation at her answer. Nevertheless, he didn’t press the issue further.

“And the Adventurer? Their own strength is not unworthy of note. Either one could be of hindrance to our plans if not properly accounted for.”

Livia turned, starting to walk away.

“Perhaps, but a consideration for another time. You have been given a task, and it is your only priority. Do not forget that we serve Lord Baelsar’s will alone. You will regret it if you do.”

And with that, she walked away from the man without another word. On his part, Nero watched her go with an irritated grimace that soon morphed into an expression of amusement.

“With allies like that… Beware a woman in love, but some things are just too tempting to pass up.”

With one last glance down at his meter, ideas already forming inside his head, he started to follow on behind his less-than-grateful comrade.

In all her years, Twilight had never seen such a wide and varied assortment of humanoid creatures before. The previous variations she had spotted back in the bowl of embers were only a small portion of the total variety that seemed to be on display in the small village of Drybone. From her position hidden inside of the Flames Headquarters, she could spy burly men with red and green skin hauling enormous crates to and fro, smaller men and women who might have passed for children were they not bearing arms, swift men and women with feline aspects such as ears and tails, and simply really tall people who carried themselves with an almost pompous posture and grace.

The village itself was remarkable in its efficiency. To escape from the scorching heat of the desert sun, Drybone had been built in a large pit that Twilight assumed had been dug into the earth, affording ample shade. Banners, tarps, and awnings that stretched from one side of the pit to the other overhead blocked off more of the sunlight, and what light poked through was as varied in colour as the ponies of Ponyville were.

The buildings were largely simply sandstone with the occasional reinforcement of wood beams. Many had been built into the walls of the settlement’s pit itself, making Drybone a very vertical settlement. Despite its small size, she imagined it could house an impressive number of people.

Most striking of all was the colossal blue crystal that stood at the heart of the village. It spun slowly in a lazy circle, with smaller crystals and golden rings orbiting it independently of one another. It cast a near-constant blue glow over the whole settlement, one which she imagined made navigating at night rather easy.

It had been well over a day since she had departed from the Amalj’aa territory. She had had very few chances to converse with her new friends since then, as their time had largely been occupied by one, long, uninterrupted trek across Thanalan, as the desert was so-called, to reach Drybone. Once they had arrived, her new friends—the white-haired one she now knew by the name of Thancred—had been occupied tending to a variety of matters around the village. Dealing with the aftermath of their confrontation with Ifrit, if she were to hazard a guess.

She had been dropped off here under the cover of night and told to keep a low profile. According to Thancred, while the inhabitants of Drybone weren’t necessarily an unfriendly lot, they had been dealing with a lot of stress as of late, and seeing something so foreign as Twilight would likely only cause more trouble that, right now, was not wanted.

Twilight had tried to argue against this but eventually gave in. She knew precious little of what was going on in this realm, after all, and it would not do to take action born of ignorance. So, much as it pained and bored her, she kept quiet in the small barracks house she had been left in.

They couldn’t stop her from watching the town outside, though. It was too fascinating for her not to!

It was getting on toward midday when, finally, the monotony broke. A door in the back of the room swung open, and a very tired-looking Thancred walked in, accompanied by the axe-wielding adventurer that Twilight still didn’t know the name of.

“Ugh. Damn bureaucracy…” Thancred groaned in dismay as they shut the door behind them.

Twilight let herself down from the window and quickly made her way over to the two, a spring in her step. “You’re back!”

Thancred put on a warm smile. “Yes, apologies for the long wait, but there was a lot of reporting to be made to the local representatives for the Immortal Flames. It was all quite the headache.”

The Adventurer rolled his eyes, though judging by his frown, he shared the sentiment.

Thancred shot him a narrow-eyed pout before shrugging. He made his way towards one of the many unoccupied beds that filled the central space of the building and sat down. “Now, then. I do believe there are plenty of questions we have for each other.”

Twilight nodded, eagerly sitting across from him. Finally! A chance for some information!

Thancred waited until she was settled, then leaned back in his seat. “Alright. Why don’t you start? I daresay you seem to be a little more out of the water than I am.”

“Out of the water and into the desert,” Twilight remarked bitterly, her ears flicking in annoyance. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to deal with so much sand before…”

“So not a native of Thanalan, or so I would gather. Where are you from, then? I would assume the Black Shroud, given that I have never heard tell of unicorns appearing anywhere else. And come to think of it, I don’t think I have learned your name yet, either.”

Twilight blinked. The Black Shroud? That sounded far more ominous than it probably was, given the glib ease with which Thancred referred to it. But that wasn’t the part that got her attention the most. She turned to Thancred, her eyes wide. “Wait, unicorns?! You mean there are other ponies in this region?!”

Thancred stared blankly at her for a few seconds. “Well… I don’t know about ponies, but there are some horses in Eorzea, though I gather most of them are from the Far East. But that is neither here nor there.”

Twilight sighed slightly. None of these terms were familiar to her. Might as well just answer the question she had been asked. She lifted her head and slightly unfurled her wings in what she hoped was a display of significance. “Ahem. My name is Twilight Sparkle. I’m a princess of a land called Equestria. Although, I do not know where Equestria is relative to here. You said this land is called Eorzea?”

A look of confusion came across both Thancred and the Adventurer’s faces at the word ‘Equestria.’ They shared a look before Thancred answered. “I did… and I must say that I have never even heard the word Equestria, much less heard of a country that goes by it. And I’ve heard of a fair few lands in my day; even ones I shall probably never see.”

It was like a mallet had been taken to her chest. Twilight looked down as the realization dawned on her that, if she was still in her own world, she was very, very far away from her home. Farther than she had ever been before. But given everything that had happened so far, it would probably be better if she kept the possibility that she was from another world under wraps for the time being. No need to make things more complicated than they already were.

“Princess?” the Adventurer suddenly spoke up, drawing Twilight’s attention back to the discussion.

“R-right. Princess. I’m one of a handful of princesses that preside over and rule Equestria; although my role has very little to do with actual governance. I’m the Princess of Friendship, so I largely help settle social matters, and promote companionship and compassion wherever I can.”

Or, at least, she presumed that’s what was expected of her. Having only just received the title after being royalty for scarcely a year, she wasn’t really sure what her role in Equestria was meant to be. She was more sure than when the wings on her back first sprouted, to be sure, especially now she had her title, but it was still a lot to adjust to.

“Er, best not bother them with that, though...”

“An ambassador of sorts, then. Never thought I’d hear the word ‘princess’ applied to someone in such a position, but who am I to judge?” Thancred mused aloud before shrugging his shoulders. “Regardless. We’ve established where you’re from; at least somewhat, but not why you are here. Judging by what you’ve already said, you’re not even sure how you came to be in Thanalan.”

Twilight nodded. “I’m not… You see, a couple days ago, someone in dark robes wearing a black mask appeared near the Tree of Harmony—which is a very important place in Equestria—and stole the most powerful artefact Equestria has. An Element of Harmony… my Element of Harmony. I tried to stop him, and we wound up struggling with each other. There was a flash of darkness, and then… I was in the desert. He left me in the sands and disappeared…”

She lifted her eyes back to Thancred, an edge of desperation bleeding into her voice. “I have to get my Element of Harmony back! I don’t know who this black-masked man was or why he stole it, but it can’t be good! He hurt my friends and damaged the Tree itself, and unless all of the Elements are together, they’re basically useless! But...”

Her ears drooped, and she looked away. “I have no idea where I am or what I’ve gotten myself into. So if I’m going to stop this man and get my Element back, I’m going to need help.”

A heavy silence hung in the air following her admittedly somewhat abridged recapping of events. It still wasn’t as to the point and concise as the warrior’s had been, but it did the trick.

Eventually, Thancred let off a long, thoughtful hum. “A man in dark robes and black mask, you say…? My dear Twilight, I daresay we share a common enemy.”

Twilight blinked, her eyes going wide. “Huh?”

Thancred rose to his full height, a confident, companionable smirk on his face. “And if it’s help against this enemy you seek, then you couldn’t have stumbled across a finer group of allies.”

Hope and joy sprang to life in Twilight’s chest. She jumped from her seat, her ears standing straight and her wings unfurling slightly. “So you’ll help me?!”

Thancred nodded. “I’d be happy to. That being said, however, the decision is not exactly mine to make.”

Twilight tilted her head. “It’s… not?”

Thancred shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand, I do not doubt that you’ll receive the aid you need. But my order—the Scions of the Seventh Dawn—is entrusted with the task of combatting the Primal threat. Ifrit is but one part of that, and our resources are spread fairly thin at any given time. If you’re going to get our full support, you’ll need to speak with the others as well.”

The Adventurer stepped forward, pressing a fist against his chest. The grin on his face indicated, if they were to judge it correctly, that he was volunteering to be her chaperone.

Thancred turned to him with a grateful smile. “Ah, if you would take her back, I’d deeply appreciate it. There are still matters in Ul’dah that need resolving before I can return to the Sands myself. Namely taking care of those tempered by Ifrit…”

Twilight’s jovial mood immediately dimmed. She didn’t know the full extent of what had befallen those soldiers, but it had been deeply unsettling. She just hoped that Thancred could help them.

Thancred turned back to Twilight. “Rest assured, I shan’t be far behind. Besides, I wouldn’t miss such a meeting anyway. This is all just too good to pass up.”

Twilight nodded, tearing her thoughts away from the ‘tempered.’ “Alright. So, where are we headed?”

Thancred crossed his arms with his smirk becoming one of appreciation. “Straight to business, are we? Good. That will serve you well in these parts. My friend here will bring you back to our headquarters, known as the Waking Sands. It’s located in a small village on the coast of Aldenard, called Vesper Bay. Once there, you can ask my colleagues as many questions as you like. And again, don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.”

Twilight nodded, turning to the Adventurer with a sharp grin. “Alright! I was getting tired of sitting on my hooves anyway. And on the way, you can fill me in on this land! If I’m going to be stuck here, I’m going to need to know everything!”

An uncomfortable look came onto the Adventurer’s face, and he took a step back. Thancred, in turn, merely laughed. Twilight looked between them in confusion. What had she said?

Thancred got a hold of himself and shrugged helplessly. “Ah, forgive me. I would just advise you to temper your expectations. I don’t know if you noticed, but the man behind me isn’t exactly a talkative sort. I can barely get him to say more than a few words at a time, most days, and even then he tends to just opt for a silent, stoic nod.”

As if for emphasis, the warrior nodded twice.

Twilight pouted. “Oh… Well, can you at least try to tell me about things as we’re going? I can’t go in blind!”

A few seconds passed before the Adventurer relaxed and, predictably, offered a silent nod in response.

Twilight sighed.

“Now, if there’s nothing else?” Thancred asked. “I really should see to our present… issues, before the Flames send out a search party for me.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I won’t keep you. Though, um, Adventurer?”

The warrior looked curiously at the small unicorn.

“You. I know you don’t say much, but can you please tell me your name now? I didn’t get an answer before.”

“Ah, yes, I do believe it would behoove you to reveal your name to a future travelling companion,” Thancred noted with a smirk.

"Was that a pun?" Twilight inwardly considered, but ultimately decided to ignore it if it was, indeed, a pun.

The Adventurer shrugged, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest as he prepared to finally introduce himself.

“D-”

“Scion!” a new voice suddenly interrupted them, coming from outside and sounding quite agitated.

“Horseapples!”

“Oh, I do believe that search party has arrived,” Thancred said regretfully. “Regrettably, I must be off. I shall meet you all back at the Sands. Do try not to do anything I wouldn’t and would do while I’m gone.”

The Adventurer gave a hearty nod as Thancred turned to leave. The man watched the open doorway for a few moments before, seemingly forgetting the last several moments, gestured for Twilight to follow as he also exited the room.

“Hey! Wait a minute!”

Twilight scrambled after him, her whining protests going unheeded as his name, once again, was lost to the aetherial winds...

7 - Seventh Dawn

Twilight and her new friend soon set off from Drybone. The walk had been an almost comedic affair of the heavily-armoured man shuffling her awkwardly up and through the tunnels, trying to hide her from the eyes of other people with his bulk. In Twilight’s humble assessment, he had been less than successful in keeping her hidden, if the weird looks the duo had been getting from the flames was any indication.

Once they were free of the settlement, their pace increased dramatically. A series of paths had been worn into the dirt and sand from years of foot traffic, and it was one of these that the duo followed to the south. In the daylight sun, Twilight briefly glanced back over her shoulder to be afforded a view of something she had not noticed when coming in.

To the north of Drybone, barely visible in the distance, was a colossal coil of twisted, glowing orange crystals. Large chunks of stone, many of which were brining with grass or trees, were speared upon the various flowing spikes of the mineral mass. It almost looked to Twilight like an aerial vortex left in the wake of a speeding projectile made solid.

“What is that?” she had asked, enthralled by the impressive sight.

“The Burning Wall,” the warrior had said simply, his brow furrowing.

“Oh… okay?”

Alas, Thancred’s assessment that the warrior was a man of few words was proving infuriatingly true. She still hadn’t figured out his name, for Celestia’s sake! If only he wasn’t so fixated on keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them.

Unfortunately, she’d have to bear it for the time being. And it wasn’t like there weren’t other things to pique the alicorn’s interest. The previously mentioned spire of amber crystal was a start, but hey, she was in a whole other world! As terrifying a prospect as that remained, science wasn’t going to wait on her account.

As it turned out, she’d have plenty of time to take notes as the journey wound up taking several days to complete. The road they were following weaved through mesas and narrow valleys, affording Twilight more than enough opportunity to study their surroundings and, where possible, ask questions about what she was seeing. The warrior summarized some of what he knew, though he confessed that his own knowledge was, presently, somewhat limited.

Two more settlements marked milestones in their journey: one small, with railroad tracks spiralling out from it and mineral carts coming and going into the mesas named Blackbrush Station, and another, larger settlement called Horizon was built into the side of a cliff with proper sandstone buildings and another one of those enormous glowing blue crystals. An aetheryte, if Twilight was recalling the name correctly. Such creations were apparently used to facilitate a limited form of teleportation for those with the requisite ‘anima.’ Whatever that was.

It sounded like it was a needlessly rare and frustrating resource.

After a brief pit-stop to restock on supplies, they kept going. They departed Horizon through a tunnel that cut through the cliff face the settlement was built into, heading down and to the north. On the other side, Twilight was greeted by another remarkable sight.

The area in front of her featured numerous narrow pillars of natural stone, holding up a labyrinthian latticework of platforms and formations overhead that filtered the sunlight. The ground here was damp, and many ponds dotted the surface like the spots on a dalmatian’s coat. Long-eroded statues on men draped in flowing garb were broken down here, jutting up from the water like markers of a long-lost age.

Most striking, however, was the vegetation. Twilight’s mouth watered as she spotted a whole host of low-lying grasses and mosses clinging to the land near the water, rich green vines hanging from the platforms overhead, and even a few healthy-looking palm trees.

Her stomach growled. Audibly. It had been days since she had gotten to eat anything substantial. Nourishing greens were a rarity in the desert, and she was not about to pass up this opportunity.

With an almost childlike squeal, Twilight pounced on the nearest batch of greens, earning a startled yelp from her companion. She paid him no mind, though. She tore into the first batch of grass she could get her teeth on. Bland, fibrous, borderline tasteless, but moist, healthy, and so magnificent all the same. She shuddered happily before glancing back at the warrior.

“Sorry, but can I have a minute, here?” she asked sheepishly, blushing as she realized how silly she must have just looked.

He watched her a moment longer before smiling and nodding. “Just mind the orobons.”

Twilight blinked. “The what?”

Splash.

Twilight let out a shriek of fright as something with more teeth than was at all reasonable leapt out of the water in front of her. She backpedalled, her horn lighting up on instinct to fire off a defensive spell. What came out wasn’t much of a beam, but just a small shockwave that knocked the offending creature back into the water with a little plop.

It righted itself onto its belly, affording Twilight a better look. The best way she could think of to describe it was as an angler fish, but built for shallow water, or even land travel. It glared back at her with what she imagined was a pout, before giving a moist snort and splashing away into the water.

Had she just offended a fish?

The warrior laughed.

Twilight turned back to him with an indignant pout. “Hey! What’s so funny?!” she demanded with a stamp of her hoof.

He shook his head and shrugged helplessly, but did not offer a verbal response. Twilight groaned in irritation before returning to her meal. This time, being doubly sure to keep an eye out for any more would-be predators.

Emerging from the worn trail and its deadly fishy occupants brought the duo into another town with the telltale smell of salt in the air, indicating that they had reached the coastline of the continent. They entered this new town, Vesper Bay, from another rocky tunnel that exited into a brick plaza dominated by a large bronze statue of one of those smaller humanoid people she’d seen dotted around the place.

And many more of the species were there now, all giving her a mixture of looks that ranged from confusion to “d’aw I want one.”

There was also more of the distinctly human, or ‘hyur,’ individuals likewise present, mixed in with a few of the large roegadyn species and a few miqo’te to top it off. One of the latter in particular was performing a provocative dance in an outfit that made Twilight glad the Cutie Mark Crusaders hadn’t blundered into this world alongside her.

This was coming from a member of a species that was predominantly naked, but the clear intent on display felt rather tacky to her.

Speaking of tacky, as they wandered through the plaza and she did her best to ignore the stares, her eyes were drawn up to the large statue she’d first seen on entry. The lalafell wore a mask over his bronze face, a thin beard dominating the lower portion of his face. She couldn’t place it, but something about the guy gave Twilight a bad feeling.

A cough from her travelling companion knocked her brain back onto task, and she hurried to follow on as they started to descend down a set of steps towards what appeared to be a dock area. The Adventurer started to veer off here, making for a building sitting off to the right that seemed rather devoid of activity on the outside.

Carefully rising the steps to the entrance, the warrior pushed open the door and entered into a warmly lit room that seemed quite cosy to the mare. It held a couple of inviting bookshelves, a small wooden table, and a staircase that she guessed led to some kind of basement.

At the mentioned table, she also had to note, sat another lalafell adorably humming to herself to the point that she failed to notice their entrance. She was adorned in a pink shirt, brownish pants, bright red shoes, and a darker red hat with a large feather pinned to the front. She didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the stack of papers in front of her, rather she idly swayed from side to side, her arms swinging in time with her body, happily uttering a tune as she stared off into space.

The adventurer stared at the sight for the moment, before shaking his head with a smirk that indicated this wasn’t something new. He closed the door quietly, approached the small woman’s chair with equally stealthy footsteps, before clearing his throat as loudly as his mortal chords could possibly manage.

“GWAH- I’m sorry we’re closed to please don’t hurt me or- Oh!” She stopped her panicked waddle with a look of shocked embarrassment on her face. “Oh… Ahem… Welcome back! I trust your dealings with Thancred were a success?”

“Nice recovery…” Twilight couldn’t help but inwardly deadpan.

He gave a nod, though his smirk only widened as he silently gestured behind him.

“Oh? What is… Huh!?”

Twilight suddenly felt rather exposed beneath the wide eyes of the bewildered lalafell, her mouth agape with so many questions that seemingly refused to come out. The mare, on her part, found her own responses lacking as she endured the awkward silence that the Adventurer seemed to be relishing in.

And then it got worse.

“SQUEEE!” she actually said rather than making the appropriate noise. “What an adorable little pony! I must hug you!”

“Wait, no-”

She clearly heard nothing, as the lalafell charged forwards with a speed that didn’t seem possible unless you were Pinkie Pie as she hugged her with the strength of at least a thousand Ifrits.

“Where did you find her!? I will feed her, take her for walks- Oh! I know you like picking up those little minion things on the market, but I just HAVE to keep this one in the Sands! Consider her the new Scion mascot!”

“I am NOT a mascot!”

“Oh, but you’ll be great!”

“I… really won’t…”

“But you-”

It was then that the woman finally realized something. Namely, that Twilight was talking.

“Oh.” The lalafell dropped the alicorn immediately. “You talk back. Drat…”

“Drat!?”

Twilight got up off of the floor, brushing herself down while levelling the thing a scathing glare. She looked up at her friend for explanation, but he merely shrugged in his typically unhelpful apathetic silence.

“Hmph. So, you are?” she finally deadpanned to the lalafell.

“Oh! I’m Tataru Taru! Receptionist and coin keeper for the- Oh… Um…” She looked up at the Adventurer, getting a nod affirming that Twilight was meant to know what she had to say before continuing. “Receptionist to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn! And if you’ve been brought back from their mission you must be adorably important! I take it she’s being taken to see Minfilia?”

The warrior nodded once more.

“Okie Dokie! Come with me and I’ll take you right to her, the other Scions are waiting for your report anyhow.”

She began to waddle off, heading down the stairs while Twilight hesitated for several moments. She looked on after her, before then glaring back up at the great betrayer.

“You knew.”

He tilted his head in fake innocence before following Tataru downstairs.

Twilight let off an agitated harrumph before following them down the stairs and into a well-lit hallway that led into a four-way intersection. A heavy wooden door sat on the other end of the corridor with two individuals standing guard in front of it. Their eyes latched onto Twilight with immediate curiosity, but they made no moves to bar her path as Tataru led the way. Twilight gave the sentries a small smile before focusing ahead.

They passed through the doors, and then through another set that led into a large, well-furnished office or meeting room. A large and ornate wooden desk sat in the centre of the room’s dark carpet, while an assortment of potted plants and cushioned seats were stationed around the edges of the room. A hanging lamp provided gentle yellow illumination, lending to a feeling of homely safety. Against the back wall, presiding high over the rest of the room was a frame made of gold, in which was lovingly placed the shattered remains of an ornate wooden staff. Even from here, Twilight could feel the raw magical power stored within it and had to resist the urge to take a step back.

“He’s returned! And he’s brought a guest!” Tataru announced to the room, drawing Twilight’s attention to the cluster of people gathered within.

Off to the left were a hyur woman and lalafell man. The woman was dressed in relatively plain white clothing, save for her legs, which were clad in heavy plate armour, coloured a deep shape of red. A mask and turban hid her face and most of her hair from view, though Twilight could just make out a single yellow lock of hair.

The lalafell, on the other hand, was dressed in decorated blackened robes. He had short blonde hair and pale blue eyes, over one of which was a monocle. A wooden cane was strapped to his back, no doubt another arcane implement.

Standing farther back was a taller man, an elezen, dressed in dark blue robes with a white hood pulled up to cover his head. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of red-tinted goggles, while another set of the same clunky gold goggles that Twilight had spied on Thancred were situated on his forehead.

Off to the right was a miqo’te woman. A white, long-sleeve shirt covered her torso, while ocean blue pants covered her legs. The hair on her head and swishing tail were both silver, while her slitted eyes were a vibrant shade of emerald green that stared into Twilight with curiosity and scepticism.

Finally, seated at the desk was a hyur woman dressed in a swath of pinks and dark blues. Her long blonde hair was styled so bangs hung neatly on one side of her face, while the hairs had been expertly braided on the other. A warm, almost motherly smile crossed her features as she rose from her seat.

“Welcome back. It puts my heart at ease to see you once more,” the woman greeted, relief in her voice. Her eyes then shifted past the warrior to land on Twilight, who had rapidly become the centre of attention for everyone in the room. She tilted her head curiously.

The miqo’te quirked a brow. “T’would seem that more has happened than we were made aware,” she noted, her voice indicating that there was already a storm of speculation well hidden behind her steely eyes.

“It’s rather cute, isn’t it?” the woman with the mask noted, lifting a hand up to stroke her chin. “...Please tell me we don’t have to housebreak it.”

Twilight’s ears flattened back in annoyance. “Oh, for the love of- I’m not an animal!”

The woman recoiled in shock, her hands flying up to cover her chest. “Oh my! Papalymo, did you hear that?!”

The lalafell, Papalymo, glanced up at her with a dull frown. “How could I not, Yda?”

Yda looked between him and Twilight for a few seconds, spluttering incoherently in her hunt for words. “Wha- b-but! I- How did- what is- Y’shtola, what is happening?!”

The miqo’te, Y’shtola, sighed and shook her head. “Mayhap it would be for the best if we allowed our friend to explain rather than stumble in the dark?”

“I agree,” the woman at the desk concurred, turning back to the warrior. “Go on, friend. We are listening.”

And so he did. While Twilight hung back, slightly withering under the particular glares of Y’shtola, the Adventurer recalled their encounter with Ifrit in a level of detail that made Twilight’s intellectual mind quite pleased. She even got to hear parts of the story she hadn’t been yet privy to, how he and Thancred had investigated disappearing refugees out of Drybone, leading to the discovery of Ifrit’s summoning and their meeting with Twilight herself.

When all was said and done, the woman behind the desk, Minfilia as Twilight so deduced, turned to stare thoughtfully up at a broken staff held in a frame behind her.

“I see. To think the amalj’aa would summon Ifrit with us so blind to his coming. Well, I think we have our champion to thank again. And with the matter of Ifrit, for the moment, settled, I can’t help but desire to hear from our guest.”

Twilight took in a breath, stepping forward as her friend stepped aside.

“Ahem, right… I’m Twilight Sparkle, I don’t mean to cause any trouble for you all.” Another glance from Y'shtola betrayed her doubt. “I’d been wandering the desert for a while when the amalj’aa captured me. I hadn’t meant to get involved.”

“And yet you seem quite involved nevertheless,” Y’shtola noted cautiously. “You have our thanks for assisting our friend here, but your arrival seems quite… timely for the matter.”

“Oh, do give her a break,” a familiar voice spoke from behind Twilight. “The girl just had a spot of misfortune, and I’m all the more glad for it, given my lack of help back there.”

Thancred entered the room, his moment of self-deprecation at odds with the coy smile on his face. He slid into the group, standing next to Y'shtola as his gaze settled onto the alicorn mare.

“Sorry I’m late, but I did say I would be right behind you.”

“Thancred, that’s fine,” Twilight replied, somewhat relieved by the arrival of a face she knew to be friendly. “Did you help those soldiers we were with?”

“Uh… They… are no longer afflicted,” he uttered, though Twilight couldn’t help but wonder why he sounded so… unhappy about it. “Ahem, as it is, Minfilia, Ifrit shall not be a concern for a time. As for our new friend, Y’shtola, care not to give her a hard time. I think what she has to share shall be of particular interest to our cause.”

“Pray tell, what tidings doth she bring?” the elezen asked in a manner that reminded her of Luna fresh out of her banishment. “Prithee, spin thy tale.”

“Um, yes, Urianger… I was about to…” Thancred uttered in small annoyance. “As it is, I heard her mention being lost around and about Thanalan. But what she has yet to mention is how she got there.”

“Oh, did she fall off a carriage? I did that once, the stupid chocobos didn’t even come back,” Yda complained.

“Hush, Yda,” Papalymo scolded.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing so innocent,” Thancred said apologetically. “No, I’m afraid it’s the fault of the ascian.”

The air grew cold in an instant. Twilight looked around at the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, all seemingly growing slightly paler at the mere mention of the unfamiliar term. The Adventurer, too, gave Thancred a glance of confusion.

“Ah, but of course. The term would be new to you as well,” Thancred noted. “The masked mage you and Y’shtola encountered in La Noscea, that was an ascian.”

“To clarify, ascians are agents of chaos, dark mages that bring calamity wherever they dare to walk,” Minfilia explained bitterly. “While we Scions are sworn to protect the realm from the threat of the Primals, so too must we guard against this more pressing threat. For so long as the ascians remain, they will continue to teach the art of summoning to all those who will hear.”

Twilight frowned. That man who took her Element of Harmony, he was one of these ascians? But if they were behind the Primals, why take the Element? It was the antithesis of chaos, outright poisonous to anything that used dark magic. So why take it? What was going on here?

“Why would they do that? Summon things like Ifrit, I mean,” Twilight asked.

“Unfortunately, we do not know,” Minfilia replied, lowering her eyes in thought. “Few even know of the ascians' existence. They rarely waste time speaking with their victims, save for when they seek to manipulate the reigns of history. Their motives and, indeed, even their larger methods, remain a mystery to us.”

Twilight was quiet for a second, thinking back on her encounter with the ascian, trying to think of any hint of a motivation he might have let slip.

Only one moment stood out to her. When they had been flying through that intangible rift...

“What did you do to the Tree?! What do you want with my Element of Harmony!?”

The figure reached his free hand up to grab at her hoof. His claws dug into her skin, eliciting a hiss of pain from her. She leaned back fearfully as he leaned in, the shadowy eyes of his mask boring into hers intensely. “You would not understand,” he said, his voice low and collected. “Just know that what I do, I do for the salvation of my star…”

“He… he said that he was trying to ‘save his star,’” Twilight recalled with a furrowed brow.

“Well, they have a funny way of showing it,” Yda remarked. “Unless they think ‘bathing the realm with fire’ is helpful in some way.”

“On this, we agree completely,” Papalymo agreed. “More to the point, how did you come by this ascian?”

“He… took something,” Twilight said. “An artefact, my Element of Magic. It’s one of the most powerful magical items back home, capable of drawing upon the powers of harmony to cleanse darkness.”

“Hm, almost like the blessing of light in some respects…” Minfilia mused. “But it seems strange for a paragon to take such a thing. Short of somehow perverting it to their cause, but I cannot say how. Tell me, where is it you come from? I can’t say I’m familiar with your species, Miss Sparkle.”

“Twilight is fine…” she responded. “And I… Well… That’s a little more complicated.”

No time like the present…

Twilight told them of Equestria, her friends, her role in ruling her nation, everything. She better explained the Elements of Harmony, how the six crystals were bonded to their Bearers and allowed them to combine their strength. She culminated in detailing her fight with the ascian, ending with her being summarily dumped in Thanalan.

“Fascinating…” Minfilia muttered. “The more you talk, the more akin your Elements sound to the very crystal our friend there carries.”

“Crystals,” the warrior noted, pulling out the red crystal he had acquired from Ifrit’s remains.

Minfilia gasped. “Mother Hydaelyn has gifted you another? You truly must hold her special interest, and I must wonder if she too is somehow related to this ‘Tree of Harmony’.”

“Doubtful,” Y’shtola noted. “We know of at least one other world, the Void from which the voidsent are wont to crawl out of. If such a realm is devoid of Her light, we cannot assume she has any such presence on her own star.”

“And yet even should thy Tree be of a similar nature, t’would surely be a new ally from which to call upon,” Urianger, the elezen in the robe, speculated.

“I don’t know about any trees, except those in Gridania, but I don’t like the thought of the ascians running around with a sort-of-Crystal of Light that should be with our adorable new friend!” Yda proclaimed.

“I’m not adorable…” Twilight protested.

“Yes. Yes you are,” Tataru contested.

Twilight sighed and shook her head. “Ugh. Before this goes any further, could you all clarify a few things for me?” she said, hoping to get the discussion back on track. “Crystals of Light? Mother Hydaelyn? Voidsent? I could use a quick primer on all of these.”

“That can be explained later, for now, I think we need to remain on the subject of this ascian. And if you can be trusted,” Y’shtola denied.

“But it’s rather simple. She’s like your tree, but a giant crystal that’s also the planet, kind of, and she gives powerful magic things to her champions. Oh, and voidsent? Nasty things, I like to punch them ‘til they’re dead,” Yda declared.

“That… helps?” Twilight replied. “Either way, I could really use some help getting my Element back. I don’t want that man to use it to hurt someone, and I also need to get home.”

Minfilia nodded. “Indeed. We cannot simply allow the ascians to complete their schemes unopposed. Alas, they are quite elusive. So it may be some time before we find a lead to follow, and all the while more threats from the beast tribes and their Primals arise.”

“Indeed,” Papalymo concurred. “We have received a request from Gridania concerning the sylphs. Yda and I are due to investigate, but we might do well to travel with ‘Ifrit’s bane’.”

The Adventurer sighed.

“I’m sorry we can’t let you rest just yet, but things are understandably urgent,” Minfilia sympathized. “As for you, Twilight, what you said about your stifled magic… If we are to be aiding one another, against the Ascians of all things, it would be prudent to assist your transition while you wait for news of your assailant to arrive.”

Y’shtola quirked an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not suggesting we give her the run of the Sands? If her claims are true, I cannot deny lending her what aid we can. Yet with her word alone, I cannot help but have concerns.”

“Perchance I can offer a solution?” Urianger offered. “Tell me, how fare thy wings?”

“Well…” Twilight extended one out experimentally. “They work fine, theoretically. But every time I try to take flight, it’s like the air just spits me back out before I get too far. Like they can’t catch any wind to keep me aloft”

“That’s because of your lack of attunement to the aetheric winds,” Papalymo informed her. “I know not how things work where you are from, but here you need to learn the patterns of the wind in a region in order to properly attain flight. Your own aether will otherwise prove… incompatible.”

“That’s… both confusing and extremely fascinating!” Twilight remarked. “This ‘aether’ sounds a lot like the magic of our own world, and I can tap into it much the same, even form the same spells, though they are weaker here by quite a lot.”

“Of course. You are operating under the principles of your native arcana. Here, the way you need to draw on your magic may very well be different than you are used to. Consider it a lack of muscle memory, with your usual spells not drawing in the power they would typically require, as they are searching for magic that is simply absent.”

"I suppose that makes sense," Twilight noted. "The magic of our worlds is fundamentally similar, but how you draw upon it differs slightly."

"Quite," Papalymo agreed. "It is merely about adjusting to the different feel and updating your spellcraft accordingly."

"Wait," Yda muttered. "I'm... I'm a little lost. Magic is just... magic, right?"

"Think of it this way, Yda," the small mage responded. "If one was to favour their right hand from birth, but suddenly find themselves left-handed upon waking one morning. They would know how to write with a pen, but adjusting to using the opposing hand might take a short while."

"Oh, I think I see... Is using magic really just like using a hand, then?" Yda asked, cracking a knuckle rather aggressively. "Perhaps I should give it a go after all."

"Actually, they're nothing alike, Yda. So I'd advise not."

"Oh, fine. Magic is dull anyway."

"Yda!"

Twilight was going to like these people.

Urianger nodded along before turning to face Y’shtola. “Indeed, ‘tis as I suspected. Upon which note; Y’shtola, pray tell, is it not so that you have a sister in Gridania?”

Y’shtola raised an eyebrow. “A half-sister, but yes. She has worked with the Scions on occasion when dealing with the Primals. Why?”

Urianger glanced at Twilight. “It may be some time until we uncover the hidden machinations of this Ascian. Until such time as the plot is uncovered, it would behove us if all are at their best. To which end, might I suggest thee take Twilight to Gridania to meet with thy sister? Her experience may prove of some use in helping our comrade find her footing.”

Y’shtola closed her eyes for a few seconds, seemingly in thought. Then she opened them with a nod. “Very well,” she said, focusing on Twilight. “If nought else, such an excursion would afford me an opportunity to take your measure. Not to mention, Mhitra’s experience will be useful in confirming or assuaging my own concerns.”

Twilight recoiled slightly. “Concerns?” she echoed anxiously.

“Your story is beyond remarkable,” Y’shtola stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “So remarkable, in fact, that I cannot help but be sceptical. But should it all be true, then I cannot help but worry about your relationship with this Tree of Harmony.”

Thancred shrugged helplessly. “Oh, come now, Y’shtola. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

“Not in the slightest,” Y’shtola shot back. “Between your resistance to Ifrit’s efforts to claim you and your seeming reverence for the tree and the power it has granted you… Plainly put, I am concerned that you may be tempered.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Tempered? Like… those soldiers?!”

Thancred shook his head. “Oh, dear Y’shtola. I’ve had the displeasure of meeting plenty of tempered, and I can tell from experience that this lovely young lady shows none of the signs.”

Everyone turned to Thancred.

“...Yes? Did I say something off?”

Y’shtola smirked at him. “My, my, Thancred. I know you have a penchant for vying for the opposite sex, Thancred, but I did not realize that extended to the four-legged variety as well. Maybe I should be concerned that she has in fact tempered you?”

The realization hit Thancred like a bag of hammers hurled by Rainbow Dash. His face turned a deep, deep shade of red as he looked away. “I- I am quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, come now, Thancred,” Papalymo jeered, a teasing smirk on his own face. “Do you honestly believe any of us missed your tone there?”

Minfilia hid her smile behind a hand. “While I cannot say I personally approve, I shall not judge you for your, ahem, pursuits, Thancred.”

Thancred groaned and sighed. “You’re worse than the amalj’aa, all of you.”

“I am so confused,” Twilight obliviously droned, looking around helplessly.

The warrior chuckled and looked down at her. “Get used to it.”

Twilight looked up at him. “Right… Uh, one more thing, before I forget. Since we’re learning everyone’s names here, what the heck is yours?! You still haven’t told me, and it’s getting ridiculous! I’ve known you for days!”

The warrior leaned back in surprise. He then smiled and nodded.

His name was not as interesting as Twilight had been hoping.

Author's Note

Finally, finally we have encountered our secondary protagonist. Y'shtola is in the house!

8 - Eikons and Alicorns

Meanwhile, in the Praetorium…

Nero was unable to keep the manic grin off of his face as he gazed admiringly up at the Ultima Weapon. It was a colossal creation of Allagan design, resembling a strange hybrid between some form of a ground-bound dragon and one of those ridiculous far eastern centaurs. Its entire body, from the tip of its long tail to the base of its neck, was covered in a series of thick, overlapping, dark armoured plates that all seemed to flow into the silent grey stone embedded into the massive mech’s chest.

By his work was this impossible work of ancient ingenuity operational again. But there was still so much to be done: calibrations to be made, tests to be run, loose wires to be re-attached, energy flows to redirect! Every single inch of this marvellous specimen was a test of his abilities as a master magitek engineer, and it thrilled him. He felt like a little kid in a candy shop every time he looked at it.

“Gyah!”

Nero’s smile faded as a small explosion erupted from the Ultima Weapon’s cockpit entrance, ejecting the poor sod who had been stuffed in there to test and see if it booted up properly.

Nero sighed as the now-crispy bastard bounced off the spine of the machine and crumpled into a near-lifeless heap on the ground almost thirty feet below. He shrugged. “Ugh. Why must I be forced to work with these uneducated nimrods?” he lamented.

The sound of heavily armoured footsteps behind him drew his attention. Nero turned and blanched at the sight of a specific imposing figure. Blackened armour decorated his head, chest, arms, and legs, while his arms were covered in thick, blood-red sleeves. Most striking of all about his armour was the faceplate. It was white as bone, its brow angled into a perpetual, threatening glare.

Gaius van Baelsar. The Black Wolf himself.

“You know why,” he stated matter-of-factly, his deep voice immediately forcing Nero to snap to attention. Gaius eyed him for a moment. “At ease.”

Nero relaxed with a heavy sigh. “Yes, yes; minimal help from the Empire, engineers in short supply, et cetera, et cetera,” he acknowledged, his shoulders sagging. “Forgive me, sir.”

Gaius gave off a quiet harrumph before focusing his eyes on the Weapon. “...What progress have you made?”

Nero turned back to the weapon, his childish grin returning. “Plenty! Well, compared to what any other engineer could manage, at least.”

An amused snort came from Gaius before Nero could go on, drawing a bewildered glance from the engineer. Gaius turned back to him. “Truly? Even were you to stand in the presence of Cid nan Garlond?”

Nero felt his skull tingling with rage at the comparison to that traitor, but bit down on his tongue before he said anything. He looked down for a few seconds to compose himself. “...It won’t be much longer before the Weapon will be ready for you. The Eorzeans won’t stand a chance.”

Gaius hummed quietly at that. “Of course they won’t. And if they are wise, they will recognize that and spare themselves the pain of a hopeless war.”

Nero eyed the Legatus thoughtfully. The two stood in silence for a few moments longer before Gaius turned to him once again.

“How long?”

Nero sighed and turned his attention back to the smouldering half-corpse on his hangar floor. The body was already being removed by a pair of other conscripts, dragged unceremoniously out of view. He shrugged. “Had I better help, perhaps only a few days. But as it is, I have to work with these fools. It will be weeks at least before we can even begin our test runs for the motor functions. After that, it will take even longer to get the Eikon absorption system up and running.”

Judging by the way Gaius was starting to tense, he was not a fan of this report. “And you can do nothing to speed this up?” he asked impatiently.

Nero sighed. “Forgive me, sir, but even a genius like myself can only do so much when the tools at his disposal have the cumulative intellectual capacity of a dry walnut.”

Gaius gave Nero a sharp glance. “It would do you well not to underestimate the Eorzeans. Ala Mhigo may belong to the Empire, but there is good reason why the rest of this forsaken land has eluded Garlean rule for as long as it has. They are stronger and smarter than you are giving them credit for. Hence,” he pointed at the Ultima Weapon. “Your project.”

“Oh, I do not doubt. And I will see it to completion, rising our Empire to new heights and all that. But cut off from the Empire as we are, even my intellect cannot stave off every drawback. You are certain we cannot get something through? Why, I do recall your little batch of cubs held some competence with the Empire’s Warmachina, even they would be a step up from… this!”

The moment those words left Nero’s mouth, he regretted them. Gaius was in his face, towering ominously over him with a threatening snarl, like a hungry wolf about to go for the jugular.

The tense silence that followed was short-lived. Gaius backed off a moment later, quickly composing himself. “You have been given all the tools you will get. If you are even half the workman you claim to be, they will serve you well. Besides…”

He turned back to the Ultima Weapon. “You wouldn’t want to lay your hands upon a wolf’s pups. They tend to bite… and so does their father, if he should feel they are threatened.”

Nero was quiet for several seconds before heaving a heavy sigh. “Of course. My apologies, Lord van Baelsar.”

Nero turned away, idly glancing down at his scanner as the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. To hell with his ‘pups’, Cid most of all. They had the Black Wolf so enamoured with their pitiful achievements that his shining work continued to be ignored at every turn.

But, when glancing back at the Ultima Weapon, he reminded himself how soon that was all to change. At least, when he solved the problems at hand.

“Speaking of engineering trivialities…” Nero segwayed away from the prior topic. “While the function to absorb the aether from eikons is not yet finished, I do believe there is another source that could empower it further.”

Gaius looked back at him, and Nero could sense the Legatus’ eyes narrowing in curiosity even from behind his mask. “Speak.”

“While Ifrit’s output was, frankly, a complete waste of my time, there was another source that proved quite unexpected. Dear Livia did not see the value, but I would be remiss to leave the subject aside.”

“I would be the judge, be blunt and do not waste my time.”

“Hmph, well, as it is, our stalwart ‘adventurer’ had some help defeating Ifrit. A creature I, nor anyone else in the Empire that I know of, have ever encountered. It wasn’t much to look at on the surface, but its aetheric readings were staggering. Rivalling that of some of the mightier Eikons we have seen with ease.”

“I see. Another of its foul kind?”

“Ah, but that is the oddest thing of all. It was no eikon, at least I do not believe it so. But, with some fine-tuning, that should not matter. Such a source of power surely shouldn’t be ignored for our ultimate weapon? The functionality is there for all intents and purposes, it would be my pleasure to ensure this beast is put into the service of Garlemald.”

Gaius was quiet for a few seconds. He drew closer to the Ultima Weapon with a few slow, measured steps. He gazed up at the machine’s draconic face, seemingly getting lost in it. Then he turned back to Nero. “No.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “My lord?”

Gaius turned back to face him fully. “The Eikons are beasts of raw aether and misplaced faith. They draw from and destroy the land for every moment they are allowed to roam free. Monsters such as them are undeserving of mercy or compassion, in any way. The same methods cannot, however, be extended to living, breathing beings. And should the Ultima weapon be made capable of devouring living flesh, then all it would take is one misguided pilot or ill-conceived order to turn conquest into massacre. I cannot, and will not, allow that to come to pass. Such was the folly of the meteor project, and I will not repeat that abomination on any scale.”

Nero opened his mouth to retort but bit his tongue once again. As much as he hated to admit it, Gaius did have a point. The Empire had its fair share of individuals who would leap at the chance to abuse any power they had. Nero would know; he was one of them.

When Nero gave no response, Gaius turned and started for the exit. “Resume your work,” he commanded simply. Nero listened as his footsteps faded steadily into the distance before the closing of the hangar's massive bulkhead silenced them altogether.

Nero stood in his thoughts for several moments, stewing the matter over in his head. On the one hand, the Ultima Weapon was his ultimate contribution to the world of science, and surely he, as an engineer, had a duty to see it reach its full potential. The creature he had seen could power it to similar heights as even the dreaded Garuda.

Yet, the Black Wolf was not wrong, and Nero even had to spare a bitter chuckle at the ironic thought of himself being fed to his own creation. Nael van Darnus died to meteor, as Midas nan Garlond had before him. How many supposedly great men had fallen to their own creations? Even the Allagans were obliterated by their own masterpieces, culminating in the Fourth Umbral Calamity. It would be the world’s way of making a cruel joke.

Of course, he was no Nael and Midas. He surpassed both if he did so say. But still, the thought of such a cycle continuing with him held little attraction.

Ah, the decisions…

“But of course, there can only be one route for the genius of magitek, Nero tol Scaeva,” a new voice called out amidst a rush of shadowy aether that sent his scanner raving mad. “Of course, you may incur the wrath of the Black Wolf with such direct measures, but a valuable subject such as her might be useful in… other ways.”

Nero suppressed a groan, he already knew what the readings on his device indicated. And that loathsome little voice and its tiresome sinister undertones was also quite the giveaway.

“Your kind just loves to interfere, don’t they,” Nero told the ascian, turning to face the robed mage with an almost bored expression. “Your mask indicates you to be one of Lahabrea’s underlings. What advice could you possibly offer me?”

The ascian only smiled. “I am Scarmiglione, and though I may not be of the red, I am no less a paragon. And my knowledge may be of great use to you, one who I see as a valuable ally when our respective superiors fail to heed our words.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. What, pray tell, is this knowledge you claim to have of our mysterious creature?”

“To lift the veil on that mystery,” he simply replied. “That alicorn is not of this star, but a powerful being from across the rift; not too dissimilar to the great wyrm that brought down the Agrius those years ago.”

“She doesn’t seem as imposing as the father of all dragons,” Nero noted with a sceptical frown.

“Perhaps not… in this form. But I have spent quite some time in their world, watching, studying, learning. Alicorns are capable of feats great and terrible. The one present is but a child in their terms, but their potential is to move the sun and moon themselves.”

Nero crossed his arms doubtfully. “I assume that is but a figure of speech?”

Scarmiglione’s grin widened. “Not at all. I have witnessed beings capable of just that, manipulating the very heavens to their whim. A being of fire who could render the world aflame were she to will it, and another who could bring an eternal night, and nearly did so. Their very aether is split between darkness and light, and falling to one or another changes them accordingly.”

Now Nero had his attention truly caught. The readings he took didn’t indicate quite that level of power, but if that one was but a child…

“A weapon with the power to move the sun itself…” he muttered as he glanced at the machine behind him. “And more… the possibilities of such a magic would be endless.”

“The Ultima Weapon need not even be involved, but the secrets within Twilight Sparkle’s body could go far beyond mere machines such as it.”

“Twilight Sparkle?” Nero asked with a small snort. “Is that its name? Ha! Ridiculous names aside, this ‘alicorn’, say it was to fully grow and embrace darkness for instance, what would be the result?”

“A form as black as the magic it would wield, a force that could cause calamities even Bahamut would be hard-pressed to match. Magics comparable to what once was, befitting the complete soul lying within her form…”

Nero raised an eyebrow at that. “Complete soul?” he echoed curiously.

Scarmiglione seemed to catch himself and shook his head. “Ah, a turn of phrase among my order. Never you mind that,” he deflected.

Nero narrowed his eyes. This ascian was hiding something. They all were. Only someone with the brain of a dry walnut could miss that. But even so, the notion of such an incredible source of power was exceptionally tempting…

“You do make a case for yourself, but if not for the Ultima Weapon, what would you suggest? Though, I can already think of some… tests I could perform.”

“Indeed. You need no weapon, nor her cooperation,” he said, his smile turning to a snarl. “A body would suffice.”

Nero hummed, noting how… direct that last comment seemed. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was this ascian’s true motive for this free dispensation of ‘advice’. But if that was the case, it was of little concern to the Tribunus. He could have his body, because if he could have even a fraction of such magic...

Nero smiled after a moment. “Well… unfortunately, I cannot go and retrieve this Twilight Sparkle myself, what with my work on the Ultima Weapon. That said…”

He lifted a finger to his ear, activating the communication device within. “Nero tol Scaeva to Y’sanna rem Extorris. Report to the Ultima Weapon’s hangar immediately. I need to speak with you.”

A moment passed before a voice cracked into his ear, partially distorted with static. “I will be there momentarily, sir.”

Nero lowered his hand and turned back to Scarmiglione. “So, underling, where shall I send my lackey?”

Scarmiglione frowned at the term ‘underling’, but otherwise answered without hesitation. “The last I heard, she had entered into an alliance with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Scout out their scattered members, and in time, she will present herself to your ‘lackey’.”

With that, the ascian was enveloped in a swirl of dark magic and vanished from the hangar. Nero gave off a groan of frustration. “Ugh. Those people again? As if I didn’t have my hands full enough with them and their bumbling interference already…”

It wasn’t long before one of the doors to the massive chamber opened with a metallic scrape. Nero turned to see a taller-than-average Miqo’te woman stepping forward. Her long red hair had been tied into a long braid that ran down her back, while her dark blue eyes glared ahead with grim focus.

Though where most officers wore heavy armour, her attire was noticeably lighter. no doubt to accommodate for her atypical method of fighting, as evidenced by the thick leather-bound tome that rested on her hip. A glowing creature scampered along at her side, a ‘Carbuncle’ if Nero was recalling correctly. It was coloured a deep shade of scarlet, like a walking pool of blood. He thought he could see fangs jutting from its upper lip.

“My my, what experiments have you been performing?” he questioned internally.

The woman, Y’sanna, came to a stop a short distance from Nero and threw a sharp salute. “Sir, you summoned me?”

Nero turned to the woman and grinned. “Yes, I did. Tell me, my lady; how would you like to go on a secret mission to Eorzea to capture a most unique magical creature?”

Y’sanna was quiet for a few seconds. Then, her slit pupils narrowed with a devious hunger, and her lips peeled back into a predatory grin. “I would love to.”

Author's Note

So... Y'shtola but a complete lunatic, anyone?

8 - The Burning Wall

“Aah, I can’t wait to get out of all of this stupid sand!” Yda complained from the head of the group, throwing her hands behind her head in a laid-back manner. “Honestly, the stuff gets everywhere! My boots, my mask, my gloves. Even my-”

“Yda, please,” Papalymo interrupted her with a hint of exasperation, walking along beside her. “We don’t need a detailed tour of every crevasse you have on your person.”

“Not that it wouldn’t be interesting to see how well Yda remembers what to call said crevasses,” Y’shtola noted with a wry smirk from the back. “And I would be happy to fact check for her.”

“Don’t encourage her!” Papalymo bit back, his cheeks puffing up.

Y’shtola’s smirk only grew. “And why not? Children need to be prodded to grow from time to time, do they not?”

“Wha-?! I am not a kid!” Yda exclaimed, spinning around to face Y’shtola with a look of utter offence on her face. “I am a fully grown adult! I just act like a kid! Sometimes!”

A silence fell over the group as they walked, and Twilight couldn’t help but wonder if the miqo’te had inadvertently stepped over some personal boundary. She looked between them all for a moment, her ears lowering.

Her fears were alleviated when all of them burst out into a series of amused chuckles. “Oh, good. Banter.”

Y’shtola shook her head. “Ah. Forgive me, Yda. ‘Twas all in jest, of course.”

“I know, I know,” Yda said, swinging her arms by her side as she turned to face the road ahead of them again. “Took me a second, but I got there.”

Papalymo could only sigh.

The group had departed from Vesper Bay several days ago, and if Papalymo’s statements were anything to go off of, they had made impressive time so far. At their current pace, assuming they were not waylaid or otherwise distracted, they would be in the Black Shroud in just another day or so.

All the while, the trio she was accompanying had routinely spent their time either bantering like an old married herd or discussing recent events amongst themselves. Twilight, for her part, had spent most of that time listening to their discussions. She might have taken part more often and asked more questions, but the ever-suspicious eyes of Y’shtola lingering on her at every turn was enough to bring old social anxieties back into the fray.

Though, now that she thought about it, perhaps there were a few things she should bring up before they reached their destination. She knew about as much about this ‘Gridania’ as any other place in this alien world—which amounted to virtually nothing—but a few pieces had slipped out over the course of her companions’ conversation.

Mentions of something known as ‘elementals’ had piqued her interest, not to mention who exactly the sylphs were that they were supposedly off to meet—at least, Yda and Papalymo. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d get the pleasure before Y’shtola dragged her off to what was probably an interrogation chamber.

All the more reason to pony up and say something productive…

“So… Gridania…” Twilight began with uncertainty. “What’s it like? I heard trees mentioned, so a forest? Is it big? What genera of flora are we likely to encounter? What about the distribution of the fauna in comparison to the-”

“So did Papalymo clone himself as a horse? Because I got lost several words ago,” Yda snarked. “I got the trees bit and then just… what?”

“She’s asking what kind of forest surrounds Gridania and what wildlife lives in it,” Papalymo explained rather helpfully to his less-scholarly companion.

“Oh! Well, you can expect anything from cute little furry ones to big toothy gits who I’ll take a lot of pleasure in smashing.”

Twilight tilted her head. “Riiight. What kind? Back home, in the Everfree Forest, we have timberwolves, cockatrices and other creatures; it's rather infamous for being a death trap for the unprepared. It’s not like that, is it?”

“I shouldn’t expect so, no,” Papalymo denied. “The Woodland Wailers spend night and day patrolling and keeping the roads clear. So long as we do not stray, we shouldn’t run into anything major. At worst, a lost ixali or a funguar.”

“Fun...guar?”

“Basically, a mushroom with a lot more bite than it has any right to,” Yda elaborated. “Like the cactuars that roam around in Thanalan! There’s usually a whole bunch of the prickly bastards hanging out right outside of Ul’Dah’s gates!”

So, they’d definitely be sticking to the road, then.

“But the forest is usually a calm place if you treat it right,” she continued. “The elementals are supposed to guard the place. So long as you don’t burn a tree down, you’re welcome to stay.

“What are they? These elementals?”

“Guardian spirits of the forest,” Y’shtola noted. “Beings comprised entirely of aether. The Black Shroud is their home, and the people of Gridania are only able to live there because the Elementals allow them to. So do try to behave, my scoldings are the least of your concern in such a situation requiring their attention.”

“Eh-heh… don’t annoy forest spirits… how hard could that be?” Every time Y’shtola spoke, Twilight could swear things looked all the bleaker for her. “So, a sometimes-dangerous-sometimes-not forest where the elezen live, right? And the sylphs?”

“Indeed. Though that is not our concern as of now, our friend will meet Yda and Papalymo there posthaste to deal with their problems.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Papalymo added. “The sylphs have long been friendly with Gridania, or at least cordial. But with times being as they are, we just want to make sure that their own patron primal isn’t getting…”

“Murder-y,” Yda concluded.

Papalymo sighed. “Yes, thank you, Yda.”

Well, if they were tackling another creature like Ifrit, Twilight couldn’t say she’d be sorry to miss it. Besides, the Scions said they were experts at such things, and she’d seen a certain plucky adventurer in action up close and personally. She certainly didn’t like the thought of a primal running amok and hurting people, but so long as her newfound friends were on it, that left her ample time to look into her own pressing issues.

The Element of Magic had to be her priority. Not only because she was likely stuck without it, but in the hands of that ascian…

The mare shook those thoughts from her head. Dwelling on it wasn’t really helping, and having one of her signature panic attacks wouldn’t exactly be a dignified position to be in with the others around.

“Okay, think about other things… Uh…”

“So! Um, where are all of you from?”

Y’shtola’s critical gaze turned to Twilight once more, the woman crossing her arms as she studied the mare intently as if trying to figure something out through sight alone. Whether she found something or not, Twilight dared not hazard a guess.

“While I can appreciate such a high level of scholarly curiosity, you remain an unknown quantity. And such personal questions can surely wait until-”

“What she means to say is she’s from Sharlayan,” Yda interrupted cheerfully. “So is Papalymo. I, meanwhile, proudly hail from Ala Mhigo!”

Slowly, and quite methodically, that scornful motherly gaze turned its petrifying stare to the hapless hyur, a humourless half-smile adorning the face of what was clearly a predator about to pounce.

“...Huh? What?” Yda whined in protest. “You’re doing that ‘disappointed parent’ thing! Stop it!”

The glare persisted.

“Ugh! You’re so… Ngh…”

“So, Sharlayan?” Twilight offered Yda a distraction from the psychological assault. “Where is that?”

Papalymo chose to speak up at this point. “Old Sharlayan is located far to the north and west of here, in an archipelago that’s considered part of the ‘Old World.’ It’s an isolationist city of scholars and researchers who have spent decades amassing a wealth of knowledge that no other nation today likely has access to.”

Twilight immediately perked up. “Wow. They sound like my kind of people!” she said, her wings giving an excited little flap. Before she had a chance to go into an ecstatic series of questions, though, she noticed the bitter look on the lalafell’s face. She folded her wings and tilted her head in curiosity. “Huh? What is it?”

Papalymo sighed. “Alas, I am afraid you would find Sharlayan disappointing for myriad reasons.”

Y’shtola, having given up on stopping this discussion, rolled her eyes and picked up from there. “Sharlayan is an isolationist state with a strict policy of non-intervention. The dominant political faction within the city, the Bibliothec, insists on hoarding knowledge and refusing to share it with the rest of the world. To do so without their seal of approval is tantamount to treason.”

“In other words, they aren’t nearly as clever as they like to tell us,” Papalymo furthered with a sage nod, his voice laced with utter disappointment. “They had a colony established in the northwest of Eorzea, bordering on Dravania, at the base of Abalathia’s Spine. But when it became clear that the Garleans were dead-set on conquest, they elected to abandon their colony and Eorzea entirely, rather than get involved in any kind of military conflict.”

“Precious few chose to remain behind and face the threat,” Y’shtola continued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And as Yda already pointed out, Papalymo and I were among those to do so.”

Twilight blinked, taken aback. “They hoard knowledge?” she asked, her eyes wide. “But… but that’s wrong! Nopony- er, nobody should be denied access to information unless it’s actively dangerous.”

“Tell me about it,” Yda droned, looking up at the sky with a groan. “We could have really used their help, too. Bunch of lazy cowards if you ask me.”

Y’shtola merely hummed in response but did not offer up any words. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group in the wake of that statement, affording Twilight a chance to process everything she had just been told. She had half a mind to go to Sharlayan herself, if time allowed, and give these ‘bibliothecs’ a piece of her mind. Nopony kept books away from Twilight.

Nopony.

But, she reminded herself again, there were more important things to be concerned with. She shook her head and allowed her eyes to wander as the group continued on their way. The temperature was dropping, along with the sun as it crawled its way steadily for the horizon. She could have sworn that the land around her felt somehow familiar, and not just because Thanalan was the only place she had been exposed to so far.

As they came around a bend in the road, she realized they were getting close to Drybone. Far off in the distance, to the north, she could see that coiling spire of glowing orange crystals rising from the earth and the various islands that had been impaled on its coiling spikes.

She remembered how, the last time she had seen it, she hadn’t been able to learn very much from her quiet friend. All she knew was that it was called ‘The Burning Wall.’

“Well, now’s my chance to learn more.”

“Ahem,” Twilight cleared her throat, drawing curious glances from her travelling companions. With a sheepish smile, she gestured towards the Burning Wall. “So, uh… what is that? I know it’s called the Burning Wall, but, well…”

All at once, the already solemn mood dropped into something borderline mournful. Even Yda’s typical ‘first to the punch’ style of remarks were nowhere to be found as all eyes turned to the odd blemish upon the desert's surface.

The group slowed to a stop, leaving Twilight to feel that she had just touched upon a very sensitive subject.

Y’shtola stepped forward, her ears lowering slightly themselves. “...Five years ago, the Burning Wall was little more than a steep cliff-side of stone, utterly unremarkable. It was occasionally mined, but there was precious little to be had.”

A dusty breeze blew by, sending Twilight’s mane and tail drifting. Her eyes widened. That thing had once been just a normal cliff? “But how is that possible?” she asked in a quiet whisper, stepping forward until she was next to Y’shtola. “What happened?”

There was a beat of quiet. Y’shtola looked down. “...The Seventh Umbral Calamity happened.”

“The what?”

Y’shtola was quiet again. She then turned and looked up into the sky. “...Once, Hydaelyn’s sky was blessed by two moons. One greater, one lesser. They had orbited the land for thousands of years. We called the lesser moon Dalamud, and it represented Menphina’s loyal hound. But it was not, as we believed for so long, a natural object.”

“Dalamud was a satellite launched into the planet’s sky by the ancient Allagan Empire,” Papalymo picked up, drawing Twilight’s attention. “To go into detail now would take far too long. All you need to know about the Allagans is that their technology far surpassed anything the world has today, as did their selfishness and hubris. Even the stars themselves seemed to be within their grasp before it all came crumbling down in their own Umbral Calamity.”

“The Empire snatched the moon out of the sky,” Yda added, her voice uncharacteristically solemn. “The Garlean one, that is. I’m not really sure how, but they used their magitek to just… pull it down.”

“For months, Dalamud drew closer and closer, its once white spark now burning crimson, as if it were made of the blood spilt in the name of its new masters,” Y’shtola went on, her eyes narrowing and her tail swishing from side to side. Twilight could see the miqo’te’s hands curling into fists. “It was the intent of Nael van Darnus, the legatus of the VIIth imperial legion, to crash Dalamud into Eorzea.”

Twilight’s jaw fell open. “What? He was going to throw an entire moon at you?!”

“To be fair, it wasn’t nearly as big as the other one,” Yda pointed out. “But yes.”

“B-but… why?!”

Papalymo stepped up to her other side, crossing his arms over his chest. “They had been trying to conquer Eorzea for a long time. They had already claimed Ala Mhigo many years ago, but the rest of Eorzea had, for one reason or another, managed to elude their grasp for a long time. It was Nael’s intent to squash any and all resistance with the lesser moon.”

“But… y-you stopped it, right?” Twilight asked, though she feared she knew the answer already. “Or someone did?”

The silence was more telling than any answer.

“We tried,” Y’shtola said after a moment, her voice quiet. “Gods know we tried. But Dalamud’s descent was absolute. And in the end, as it dipped beneath the clouds, the lesser moon’s true purpose was revealed.”

“It broke open,” Papalymo said. “And from its core emerged a monster mightier than any we have seen before or since: an Elder Primal named Bahamut. Dalamud was rent asunder, its countless colossal shards piercing the soil and destroying countless malms of land all across Eorzea.”

“And that was only the start of it,” Yda grimaced. “After that, Bahamut just went on a rampage. He kept summoning these big fireballs from his wings that homed in on anything he hadn’t hit yet… Gods… I can still smell the smoke. It was like the whole world had caught fire all at once.”

Papalymo looked over to Yda, his expression contorting with sympathy.

Y’shtola pointed to the Burning Wall. “The Burning Wall was one of the places hit by the falling shards of Dalamud. The Aether was warped and corrupted from Bahamut’s awakening, resulting in the crystals you see there. Many other such locations are scattered across Eorzea, where the aether is corrupted and twisted into something horrible and dangerous.”

Twilight just stood there for several long seconds, her mind racing. She looked down at the ground, trying to process everything she had just heard. How many people had died in that terrible event? How many had died in the other calamities for that matter? This was the seventh one!

“...What happened to Bahamut?” she eventually managed to muster the strength to ask.

“Alas, that is something we may never know,” Papalymo said remorsefully. “All we can say for certain is that at the apex of the devastation, Bahamut just vanished in a blinding flash of light. When the dust settled, all that was found at the scene were ashes, the remains of the dead, and Tupsimati, the staff of our founder, broken in two at the top of a jagged cliff.”

The sun was touching the horizon now, colouring the sky a deep, dark red, almost like blood itself. Twilight looked up into the cloudless sky, trying to imagine the spectacle of the red moon falling in her mind’s eye. It must have been a terror to behold…

She could scarcely imagine it. There had been much danger so far, sure, but if anyone from this world ended up in the Everfree Forest before anywhere else, they might think the same. But these calamities? The closest thing she could think of was the windigos that destroyed the Three Tribes before Equestria was formed. Perhaps the first emergence of Discord? Sure, there’d been other threats since then, a lot of them recent. But nothing quite so… successfully nation-shattering.

Throughout all its crises, Equestria had persevered. This world sounded like it hadn’t been so lucky throughout its history.

“There is one other thing we know…” Y’shtola suddenly spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to her.

Twilight tilted her head. “What?”

Y’shtola turned to face her, her expression hardening. “That our mutual enemy, the Ascians, played a pivotal role in ushering in not only this calamity but all those that preceded it.”

“The ascians? You’re sure?”

“In truth, we operate on much speculation,” Papalymo admitted. “But primals are often the common thread between many a calamity throughout history. And ascians are most persistent in their efforts to teach the world the art of summoning.”

“Plus, have you seen those creepy masks? They scream ‘it was us all along’, right?” Yda added.

“I guess…” Twilight muttered, biting her lip.

That just raised her anxiety levels up to gigantic new heights. If these Ascians had, somehow, flattened multiple great civilizations throughout this world’s history, then they were a force to be feared. And now one had her Element…? What would that mean for her world? What did they intend to do?

Every little detail she uncovered made her realize all the more just how much trouble they were in. If she couldn’t get it back…

No, she had to get it back. If they were all the Scions claimed them to be, the Ascians were not allowed to keep that kind of power.

“Besides, they probably don’t know what to do with the Magic of Friendship anyway…”

That thought wasn’t as comforting as she’d intended it to be…

“Alas, I do believe we have indulged in idle curiosities enough for one day,” Y’shtola noted. “The sun is setting. We are near Drybone, so I suggest we stop there for the night. If all goes our way, we’ll be in the forest by tomorrow, and I would rather we be well-rested in case anyone wishes us harm on the way.”

Yda cracked her knuckles. “Let them try to get close to us, I’ll show them how much of a really bad idea it is!”

“Yes yes, I’m sure at least the ground squirrels will find you quite intimidating,” Papalymo teased.

“Well, for someone of your stature I’m sure a ground squirrel could find quite a nice snack!”

“Now listen here-”

Twilight drowned out their continued bickering. As amusing as it usually was, the alicorn found her thoughts thoroughly preoccupied cataloguing the mass of new information she had gained.

Calamities? Falling moons? She once might have thought them mad or liars, if she hadn’t since become an immortal mega-pony who had faced ancient moon princesses, lords of chaos, and demonic tyrants. Thinking about it in that context, it seemed distressingly par for the course.

And yet, the sheer scale of life that could be lost…

In previous instances, she supposed the possibility had always been there. But subdued, far in the back of her mind. Here? It seemed more… real, somehow. Like one misstep could visit another calamity not only to Eorzea but Equestria as well.

And here she was, unable to even use magic, and with none of her Ponyville friends to back her up…

She had a lot to think about.

But she would have time. The Black Shroud awaited, and hopefully, Twilight could figure out a way to prevent disaster before it could threaten to topple everything she’d ever known.

9 - The Black Shroud

“I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I set hoof in the Black Shroud for the first time… The name conjured images of a dense, shadowy forest with little to no light breaching the canopy, like the Everfree back home.”

A cool, earthy breeze whistled between the towering trunks of the lower paths. The sky overhead had been smothered in a thick layer of dark clouds, blotting out the glare of the sun for the first time since Twilight had arrived in Eorzea. The temperature had dropped significantly, much to her relief.

A flash of light tore across the sky, followed shortly by a deafening blast of thunder that made Twilight jump. The others in the group, however, did not seem bothered.

In fact, some of them looked delighted.

“Ahhhh, finally! That’s music to my ears!” Yda let out a long, loud sigh of relief. “Out of all that stupid sand and heat! It’s good to be back!”

Twilight eyed Yda for a moment before returning her attention to the forest ahead of her.

“But the Black Shroud was nothing like the Everfree, and when I first set hoof under its canopy, my breath was taken away by how… beautiful it was.”

Twilight followed after the group for a short time. The trees here were tall and straight, like arrows plunged into the earth. Thick dens of foliage framed the path they walked on, and overhead, birds with impressively large beaks darted from branch to branch, sounding their shrill calls to one another. Soon, the trees began to thin, the path dipped, and Twilight’s eyes were met with a new sight.

At first, she thought it was a lake spreading out before her, until she saw that the water was only a few inches deep. A vibrant pale blue shone back at her from the gently rippling waves, even in the diminished light. Coils of enormous roots rose from the surface sporadically, and from their peaks rose large bulbs of yellow fungus that emitted golden light. She could see fireflies and dragonflies flitting across the surface, the buzzing of their wings just audible over the ambiance of the forest.

In the distance, perhaps an hour's walk away, a structure could be seen rising up out of the water. Round wooden pillars had been erected, blossoming out with circular platforms that housed a small collection of buildings. From here, Twilight could just make out the sky-blue glow of an Aetheryte.

Beyond the small settlement, the rest of the Black Shroud loomed in the distance, its trees rising high.

“It was lush, and verdant, and plentiful….”

Y’shtola smiled softly at the sight, coming to a stop by the edge of the water. She casually rested a hand on her hip, over her wand, and turned back to the others. “I will confess, Yda, Papalymo. Sometimes, I envy you your chosen region.”

“It is a sight to behold,” Papalymo agreed with a nod. “‘Tis only a pity it is so dangerous.”

“Bah, nothing I can’t handle!” Yda declared, knocking her fists together for emphasis. “Whatever comes our way, if it’s a threat, just leave it to me!”

“So you’ve said. A lot,” Twilight noted.

“Aww, don’t start sounding even more like Papalymo. That just distracts from how adorable you are!”

The blush finding its way to Twilight's indignant cheeks was quite noticeable. “I’m not- Oh for Celestia’s…” she grumbled, hiding her face in her hooves.

Yda gave her a wide grin. “Ador-a-ble.”

“I, for one, believe sounding like myself is nothing to be ashamed of,” Papalymo opined.

“Then you can all be boring together. I’m going to keep making sure we don’t get eaten by the next big monster.”

With that, the cocksure brawler went sauntering off into the waters for the settlement in the distance. The others watched her go with a mixed air of endearment and exasperation. A moment passed before Papalymo shrugged and went after her at a brisk pace. Y’shtola remained behind, turning to Twilight. “Shall we?”

Twilight nodded, moving to follow, but hesitated her ear twitching. Something just moved behind her. Alarmed, she spun to look behind her, eyes scanning the dense trees. But there was nothing. Just a wind howling through the branches.

“But it was more than that. There was something in the air, in the earth, in the very fabric of the world around me. Like the suggestion of a wind, or the memory of a taste. A fleeting feeling at the edge of my senses, always there…”

Y’shtola tilted her head. “Is something amiss?”

Twilight eyed the forest for a moment longer before turning back to her companion with a shake of her head. “N-no, no it’s nothing. Sorry. Let’s go,” she said, moving to walk by Y’shtola’s side.

The conjurer quirked a brow at her, but made no further comment as they set off into the shallow waters. As they went, however, Twilight could not shake that feeling that something was moving around her. She looked back over her shoulder once again as she walked, her eyes scanning the sky above her.

“The forest was not just full of life. It was itself alive. And it was watching me.”

The journey through the Black Shroud took several days, with minimal discussion, save for the others answering some of Twilight’s myriad questions about the region. The small settlement they had passed on the shallow lake - known as Rootslake, Twilight now knew - was known as Camp Tranquil, while a day’s travel north was a small hamlet known as Buscarron’s Druthers.

The proprietor didn’t even raise a ruckus over the ‘purple horse dwarf’ in his establishment, though Twilight was none-too-pleased with his description of her. Either way, they spent the night there, though there was precious little sleep to be had for Twilight. The forest was never quiet, and no matter where she lay, Twilight could hear the life around her in motion at all times. In a way, it reminded her of the Everfree Forest back home, albeit less immediately frightening.

Perhaps, she had to muse, a more accurate comparison would be the Whitetail Woods. The Everfree was generally dark and foreboding, and the forest she had seen thus far was far more evocative of the peaceful trek that usually hosted Ponyville’s Running of the Leaves event. Although, those woods lacked the dangerous wildlife she had heard so much about, so maybe it was some strange otherworldly mixture of the two…

Whichever happened to be the case, it mattered little in the safety of the inn. It seemed defended enough, notably by the rough-and-tumble-looking adventurers by the gates. So, noise aside, rest was somewhat easy to obtain.

The next few days were spent cutting upwards and to the north. The variety of trees and plant life in this verdant forest was staggering, and Twilight had to resist the urge to break from the path to study every little thing she came across. Not that there would ever be enough time for her to catalog everything.

She really wanted a library.

In time, their path led them to a region Paplymo informed her was named ‘Bentbranch,’ in the heart of the forest. The trees here were farther apart, but far thicker, affording a largely unobstructed view of the sky overhead. The clouds had parted some time back, allowing Twilight to see the rich blue overhead, unmarred by the red tint of the desert dust.

After briefly stopping in one more settlement - a larger town called Bentbranch Meadows - they were on the home stretch. The trees here were small and young, as if their larger kin had been harvested. No doubt they had been used to serve in the construction of the various buildings they had passed, and the settlements they had skirted around or gone through. Ladybugs of unusual size and white squirrels could be seen scampering about in the grass and brush off the trail, scampering to hide from the passing travelers.

It was as the road began to slope upwards that Y’shtola slowed her pace and glanced down at Twilight. “Twilight. We are almost upon Gridania. Ere we enter, there is something I would ask of you.”

Twilight paused, glancing up at Y’shtola. “Huh? What?”

Y’shtola crossed her arms over her chest, looking straight ahead. “Though the Gridanians are a peace-loving sort, they are nevertheless alike to the rest of Eorzea in many ways. They would not react well to that which they do not know or understand… And so as long as we remain in public, it would be for the best if you act in a like manner to an arcane familiar.”

Twilight flinched back, her ears lowering. “Act like a familiar?! Is that really necessary?”

Y’shtola looked away, her own ears drooping somewhat. “‘Tis not a request I make lightly, but I would rather not cause an undue scene.”

Papaylymo glanced at Twilight quizzically, before looking back up at the miqo’te with a concerned expression. “I understand your due caution, Y'shtola. But even if she acts the part, her appearance is bound to attract attention nevertheless. And if you do have her pose as a new form of familiar, the local conjurer’s guild will be up in arms for an explanation. Scholars and new magic are wont to attract as moths to flames.”

“Or a purple horse to a book,” Yda snarked.

“Since when did you start with the witty remarks,” Twilight inwardly groaned.

Y’shtola hummed, placing a hand on her chin in contemplation. “Yes, I must agree to that point. And yet, if it is the familiar that would suffice…”

Twilight suddenly felt like she should be concerned.

And she was. Extremely.

“Papalymo, with your assistance, would it not be possible to cast a glamour, if only temporarily, to make her appear as if she were a carbuncle?”

“Hm. Though neither of us is an arcanist, under basic scrutiny many would likely struggle to tell one type of mage from the next. Unless we make ourselves particularly known, I do believe it is a better option.”

“Ah, yes, ahem…” Yda coughed awkwardly, rubbing at her neck with an awkward look on her face for a reason Twilight couldn’t quite ascertain. “Papalymo does have some… um, experience with that sort of thing.”

“Yes, but I don’t think we need to go into that, Yda.”

“Indeed, I’m sure the tale will be told when you are both good and ready,” Y’shtola grimly noted, earning a look of perplexed confusion from Yda and a solemn frown from Papalymo.

Twilight tilted her head. “There is something going on here that I am missing.”

Papalymo shook his head and returned to the task at hand. “But as it is, yes. I could create a replication of a carbuncle around her. It is certainly a more complex spell, however, than any I might otherwise conjure. So it likely would be a temporary measure.”

“Of course, you could also graft such a spell onto a glamour prism,” Y’shtola added.

Twilight’s eyes glimmered with curiosity. “A glamour prism? Oh! Is that an object capable of holding and sustaining a specific glamour image for usage by the individual possessing it? We have similar items back home, the process of binding them is usually conducted by-”

“Uh, yes, so, magic fox thing?” Yda interrupted.

Papalymo nodded. “Indeed. We lack a prism right now, but while I prepare the sufficient enchantment, with Y’shtola’s assistance, Yda can enter the city and purchase one such item from the marketplace. The board often has plenty for sale.”

“Kinda creepy that so many people wanna look like something else. Makes you wonder what for…” Yda remarked.

“Mostly for over-exaggerated and impractical armour designs to overlay practical ones,” Y’shtola informed her. “That is my experience, at least. I do not otherwise pry into the personal affairs of others.”

“So, with this prism, I can disguise myself at any time?” Twilight asked.

“Indeed,” Papalymo confirmed. “Though given its function is going to be a full glamour rather than binding to a specific object, it’s likely to be more unstable. I wouldn’t expect it to hold up in extreme situations, like combat. Use it with care.”

“Oh, I will.”

After she’d studied it a bit, at least.

With that said, they rapidly pressed onwards up the road towards where the city was said to lay. As they went, they passed more than a few patrols of armed guards and the odd adventurer, all of whom gave the inquisitive glances they were concerned about, but none had yet to do more than that.

It was when they drew close to their destination that the group stopped in their tracks, and Yda was quickly ushered off into the city alone to retrieve the necessary prism.

Twilight herself had little else to do but wait, her magic still being what it was, and watch as Y’shtola and Papalymo got to work. Still, her mental notebook was in full swing as she watched aethereal energies begin to dance like a professional ballet around the lalafell, his peer’s hands glowing in a similar aura as she channeled energies into his forming spell. They needn’t even say any words to one another, with thought and feeling they knew exactly what to do and what needed to be done, crafting the enchantment with an efficiency that all but confirmed their long history with the art of magic.

The display honestly made Twilight more than a little saddened by her own current condition. Magic was as natural to her as breathing. For it to be stunted in such a way…

“Well, we’ll fix that soon. I just need to adjust, that’s all…”

They were still at it when Yda promptly returned, though Twilight’s expert eye could see the leylines forming and nearing their completion. And, sure enough, it was mere minutes later that the energies began to die down and Y’shtola was free to turn her attention back to them.

“I do believe the enchantment is complete,” she announced. “Yda, did you retrieve it?”

“Aye, I did. Still, the guy at the market was a right rotten haggler! Kept trying to put up the price with his smart words and smug stupid face! I almost had to cave it in right there, if there wasn’t a guard watching my every bloody move… So much gil, stupid smug little…”

“Never mind the gil, just give it here,” Papalymo dismissed. “Gil is no object, but this is important.”

“Speak for yourself, you didn’t pay for it.”

“And I thought this kind of thing was an Ul’dahn specialty,” Y’shtola dryly commented. “Now, the enchantment…”

Papalymo nodded, turning his attention to the prism and reigniting the spell’s aura. He channeled its energies straight into the darkened object, a flickering light sparking into existence within. Twilight had to admit, it was quite pretty to look at. By the time it was done, a brilliantly shining prism of light was presented to the alicorn.

“Wow, that’s amazing…” Twilight said in awe, taking the object in a levitation spell. “Though it could use a string, maybe as a necklace…”

“Not without a pendant or some other casing to hold it in, hang on…” Y’shtola said as she retrieved some binding from her pack and proceeded to tie the prism around one of the pony’s legs.

When she was finished, Twilight lifted her right foreleg up to examine the new accessory. It wasn’t quite as pretty, wrapped up like that, but it seemed secure enough to the limb that she wouldn’t lose it randomly in a street somewhere.

Now, how to activate it…?

“Perhaps now would be a good time to practice attuning to our local aether,” Papalymo suggested. “Try feeling it with your magic, build a connection. If you can activate that much, it’s as good a start as any.”

Twilight nodded, staring down at the prism and lighting her horn. She attempted direct contact with it, more in-depth than her previous levitation of the object, similar in method to how she’d interface with any such artifact back in Equestria.

Yet, somewhat predictably, it was as if her magic hit a wall the moment it tried entering the prism’s surface. It wasn’t quite the same as her spell failures - that had already been established as a failure to secure the necessary mana to cast them due to differences in channelling. This… it was more an outright rejection of her attempts at intrusion, like she was doing something fundamentally wrong that, for all her knowledge, should not have been.

“Ugh, it’s like magic kindergarten all over again…”

Twilight sighed, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly. If her training was failing her, then she would just have to ignore it. Instead, she sat down on her haunches and closed her eyes. Her horn remained glowing, but softened somewhat.

It was back to basics: don’t try to force anything. Just let her own magic do most of the work. She just had to let it flow, work of its own accord. Crude, uncontrolled, but the moment she let go of that deeply ingrained control over her own reserves she could feel it being drawn to something. The prism, or so she hoped.

She could almost see the lines being drawn in her mind, a road to follow. She let her magic go, subtly nudging it to follow the trail ahead.

Slowly, steadily…

Poof.

It was like someone dropped a smoke bomb filled with glitter and blue magical light. Twilight gave an alarmed squeak as she was momentarily blinded by it, screwing her eyes shut. She felt the energy washing over her, skin tingling in response. But the sensation only lasted for an instant, and the feeling in her skin was gone a moment later.

“Aaaaw! Purple. I like it,” Yda remarked, prompting Twilight to open her eyes and look down.

She didn’t see hooves. Instead, she was greeted to the sight of two stubby canine paws covered in lavender fur, and faintly glowing with light. Curious, she began to look herself over, turning slowly in circles. “Woah… what do I look like?!” she asked, having a hard time making out details. The illusion that disguised her appearance did nothing to change how her body felt and moved, which was a relief, but without a mirror…

“Like an adorable little fox thing with big ears, a huge tail, and a big red patch in your flat little forehead,” Yda explained, cooing at the sight. “So cute! I think I prefer you this way, actually!”

Twilight turned to Yda with an irritated scowl… which only made her gush harder. Apparently, her face was just that adorable now. Great.

“There goes my dignity…”

Y’shtola sighed in a combination of amusement and exasperation. “Hmph. We shall have to get you a mirror. For now, we should not delay in the middle of the road any longer,” she said, turning to start up the path again. “Come. We have work to do.”

“Quite,” Papalymo agreed, smacking Yda on the calf as he followed after Y’shtola. “Yda and I are bound for the Adder’s Nest. Twilight, you follow Y’shtola.”

Twilight nodded. “Alright. Will we be meeting up later?” she asked, scampering to catch up to him.

“I rather doubt it,” Papalymo said, sounding almost disappointed himself. “Yda and I are like to be busy here for the foreseeable future. For as peace-loving as they are, the Sylphs have ever been an unpredictable bunch. And besides that, Y’shtola tends to operate out of Vylbrand more often than not. I fear that this is where our paths diverge.”

Yda spun around to walk backwards, whining in utter defeat. “Aaaw! Maybe she can stick with us, instead?” she asked hopefully.

Twilight regarded Yda with a confused frown. “...And have two massive eggheads in the same group? Are you sure you’re okay with that?” she asked skeptically, recalling all of Yda’s whining when things got even remotely technical.

Yda actually hesitated at that, as if weighing the pros and cons in her mind. Papalymo just laughed and shook his head. He turned to Twilight with a warm smile. “Where you choose to focus your efforts is ultimately up to you. But as matters stand, I would personally recommend you stay in Y’shtola’s company. She may need the backup out on Vylbrand, and you need a guide… and I can only do so much while also working with Yda. Dear to me as she is, she can be rather… dense, at times, I am sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have,” Twilight confessed.

The group continued on in silence for a short time, following a narrow path that soon led them onto a bridge suspended high above a large, rich blue lake that rested at the foot of the city. Twilight could just make it out through the foliage, resting at the top of a steep cliff. She could just make out the glow of the city lights through the dense shrubbery and trees, and noted that many of the buildings she could see from here housed large waterwheels, spilling their contents down the cliff face in a series of serene waterfalls.

A rich orange canopy was held taut over the walkway, with warmly glowing lamps spaced evenly apart. They followed the path for a few minutes before coming off the bridge and along a cobblestone road sloping and around towards a thick wooden wall that housed the front gates. Men and women in thick, green armor with darkened masks over their eyes stood watch with lances, bows, and arrows, keeping a silent vigil. They eyed the group as they approached, but made no motion to stop them.

Following the road for a short while longer, the group at last came out into the city proper. Twilight’s eyes were met with the sight of the cliff dropping into the large lake off to her left, affording her a breathtaking view of the Black Shroud sprawling beyond. The road wound up and to the right, then left, leading to a large building from which the sounds of loud, boisterous discussion could be heard. And deeper into the city, following a road that went past that building to the right, the sounds of the people of the city going about their day could be heard.

Twilight took a deep breath and let it out in a relieved sigh. Finally, they were here. She turned to Papalymo with a weak smile. “Alright… Well, I guess I’ll see you two later, then?” she asked with a smile.

Yda continued to gush at her. Twilight really needed a bloody mirror!

Papalymo nodded. “Aye, that we shall. Will be at the Waking Sands, most like, when next we are all summoned together for a group meeting. Till then, Twilight Sparkle, I bid you take care of yourself.”

“You too,” Twilight bid him in turn.

Papalymo turned to his companion, nodding at her to follow along. She gave some slight noises of disappointment, but after a few forlorn looks over at the faux carbuncle before her, she turned and began following the diminutive mage.

Twilight watched them go, the duo vanishing up the path ahead, before finally turning to face the remaining Scion in her company.

“So… we’re off to meet your sister, yes?”

She nodded, starting to walk down the path herself as she bid Twilight to follow. “Indeed. Y’mhitra is likewise an expert on the subject of magic, and far better in the art of tutoring than I. I would much like to hear her opinion on your… situation. And she may likewise assist in your immediate problems.”

“Like Urianger said, I remember,” she confirmed in turn. “Are you two… close?”

“I hardly see the relevance.”

Her ears wilted, adding an extra level of sadness upon her newly canine features. “I didn’t mean to-”

“There is no outstanding drama between us, if that’s your impression,” she sternly interrupted. “Alas, there is no need to tell you the details of my loved ones, or would I be wrong?”

“I only want to get to know you! To, you know, be friends and…”

“You know my position. Do try to understand it. For now, let us leave it at that. ‘Twould be for the best if we were not heard speaking in public.”

Twilight glanced downwards. She’d hope that maybe, over the past few days, she’d actually started to warm up to her. She’d seemed to, here and there. Maybe that had been too much to hope for. She was sure they’d have so much to talk about, as well…

The rest of the walk was conducted in silence, Y’shtola’s gaze firmly locked onto the road ahead while the mage’s newly acquired ‘carbuncle’ followed behind her. At least, that was what the residents of Gridania would have seen. In truth, Twilight merely elected to keep her head down as much as possible. Both to avoid undue attention, and to prevent the continued ire of her guardian.

The city was broken up into little ‘bubbles’ connected by pathways that wormed through rocky passages, Twilight soon discovered. Each one was home to a different array of buildings and establishments, denoting the function of each as miniature districts. Some were home to sprawling marketplaces where foreign merchants peddled their wares in exchange for those of the locals, while others were home to workers and crafters, while yet more were home to simple housings for the residents of the city.

Y’shtola led her through several such bubbles before they came to a stop in a smaller one. Her pace slowed, and the gentle trickling of a waterfall could be heard up ahead. Twilight’s ears swiveled forward curiously. As they rounded a bend, she was greeted to a small alcove worn into the stone. A miniature waterfall was at the back, flowing into a shallow pond that faintly shimmered in the light of nearby lamps. Various benches lined the edges of the area, but all were empty.

In fact, there was only one person here. Another Miqo’te woman, standing at the edge of the pond with her back to the new arrivals. Her hands were folded behind her back, her shorter tail swishing from side to side. She wore a pale blue top and tight-fitting black pants. Strapped to her hip was a wand, not unlike Y’shtola’s.

Y’shtola stepped forwards and cleared her throat, immediately drawing the other woman’s attention. She turned to face them, allowing Twilight to see her gentle features and silvery-blue eyes. She smiled warmly at the sight of Y’shtola.

“Shtola! ‘Tis good to see you, sister.”

Y’shtola smiled, lifting her hand in greeting. “You as well, Mhitra. I thank you for agreeing to speak with me on such short notice.”

Y’mhitra stepped forward with a shake of her head. “Think nothing of it. I’m always eager to spend time with family,” she said happily. She then paused and glanced down at Twilight with a quirked brow. “Though I must admit… based upon the description you gave me over linkpearl, I was under the impression your new friend looked rather… different.”

“‘Tis a glamour to keep prying eyes off of her, nothing more.”

Twilight nodded, scuffing the ground with a hoof- paw, she had paws now, had to remember that. “Right… my name’s Twilight Sparkle.”

Y’mhitra smiled and knelt down onto one knee with a nod. She briefly closed her eyes and waved her hand in front of her. There was a shimmer of light, and before Twilight knew it, her glamour had been dispelled, leaving her once again in her true form. Y’mhitra examined her with a smile, then placed a hand over her chest. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Twilight Sparkle. I am Y’mhitra Rhul. I’m sure you and I have much we can learn from each other.”

10 - Arcanism

Twilight’s eyes widened as she lifted a hoof, seeing that the carbuncle glamour had been well and truly dispelled. She blinked a few times before setting her hoof down. She met Y’mhitra’s gaze and saw nothing but scholarly curiosity and a gentle, if firm, face staring back at her. Her anxieties over this meeting slowly began to melt away, and she managed to return the welcoming smile with one of her own.

“Wow… Y’shtola wasn’t kidding. You really know your way around magic.”

Y’mhitra smiled. “Well, I am from Sharlayan, and an Archon at that. My specific fields of research may vary from Shtola, but I am no less competent a spellcaster for it.”

A mischievous glint came to Y’shtola’s eye. “Is that right? Shall I remind you of your own contributions to Nixie?”

To Twilight’s surprise, a furious blush came to Y’mhitra’s face, and she took a step back. “S-shtola! First of all, we were children. And secondly, such stories are not to be told in front of the - surprisingly adorable - otherworldly equine!”

Twilight frowned. “Guh, again with people calling me adorable… Flattery is one thing, but then there’s this.”

That interjection brought the sisters to a halt, both sets of eyes loitering on Twilight. A moment later, Y’mhitra lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle an amused giggle. “Ah, forgive us. We see each other in person disappointingly rarely.”

“If you thought that was bad,” Y’shtola added with a warm smile of her own. “Then I pray you never overhear us when we are alone. Such verbal barbs as we trade would be like to make the barbarism of the empire blush.”

Twilight smiled back at her for a second before returning her attention to Y’mhitra. “Well, I’ll try not to sneak up on you, then,” she said before lifting out her hoof to shake.

Y’mhitra eyed the hoof for a second, seemingly not sure what the intent was. For emphasis, Twilight wiggled it up and down, and the conjurer quickly caught on. She took Twilight’s hoof in her hand, giving it a firm shake.

It was at this time that Y’shtola spoke up again. “But, alas, further catching up shall have to wait until later. Mhitra?”

Y’mhitra gave off a quiet sigh before rising back to her full height. “Right, of course. To the matter at hand…” she replied before shaking her head and turning to face her sister directly. “When you contacted me, Shtola, you gave me a summary of the events that led us here, but if you don’t mind, could you provide me with a more thorough explanation? If I’m to be of any help, I’ll need the full picture,” she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes narrowing in what Twilight recognized as focus.

Y’shtola nodded. “Very well, though most of the story is not mine to tell. My concerns may come after.”

Y’mhitra turned back to Twilight. “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

Twilight took a moment to compose herself, going over the events in her head. She took a deep breath before launching into her story, retelling everything that had led them to this point: from a brief summary of Equestria to her run-in with the Ascian Scarmiglione, her capture by the Amalj’aa, and her subsequent meeting with Thancred, the Scions, and their duly-named champion.

Y’mhitra nodded as Twilight brought her lengthy and suitably in-depth tale to a close, the mare feeling rather pleased to see the same ‘taking extensive notes behind their eyes’ look her typical group of friends infuriatingly lacked. Especially Rainbow Dash.

Either way, with recent history successfully imparted onto the miqo’te, the alicorn let silence fall between them as the woman mulled over the information in her head. It lasted but a few moments before she gave a small hum of contemplation.

“That is… quite the story! Another world… the aetheric implications for such a transference without suffering any negative repercussions… Such a feat of magic would surely require- Oh, don’t mind me. I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to hear me go on a tangent.”

“Oh no, I find it quite delightful,” Twilight responded.

“Regardless, we should keep our eyes on more pressing matters,” Y’shtola scolded the two. “The intricacies of her crossing can wait, aside from that which brought us to you, Mhitra. Namely, the effect it's had on her own aetheric balance.”

“Right. And you had some other concerns, hm?” she asked.

“Indeed. Benign though she may appear, the claimed connection to this ‘Tree of Harmony’ is concerning to me, not to mention the nature of her own existence. She is an otherworldly unknown, and one that withstood a primal’s influence. To my knowledge, there are only two things that afford such a phenomenon. Either she is blessed with a power similar to the Blessing of Light...”

“Or she is already tempered,” Y’mhitra concluded, idly stroking her chin in thought.

Twilight shuffled uncomfortably in place. She knew she wasn’t tempered, or at least, not in any way that resembled what Ifrit had done to those soldiers back in Thanalan. But it was nevertheless concerning to think about. What if she really was being influenced in subtle ways she couldn’t perceive? What if her thoughts weren’t entirely her own anymore? As ridiculous as it was, it was still a dark path for her thoughts to wander, and under Y’shtola’s scrutiny, it was a very easy path to get lost on.

Y’shtola nodded. “Correct. Which is why we have come to you. When last we spoke, you told me that you had been studying the various ways in which the ancient Allagans had attempted to bend the Primals to their will. It is my hope that your recent studies on that subject could help provide some insight on Twilight’s condition.”

Twilight blinked. “The Allagans…? Papalymo mentioned them back outside of Drybone. They were that really old Empire that created Dalamud, right?”

Y’mhitra answered her. “That is the right of it, though their achievements reach far beyond that of the red moon. To go into such details now would be to derail the entire day, however,” she said before focusing back on Y’shtola. “In short, yes, I have been researching the Allagans’ means of controlling Primals. Specifically, I have been studying a specific order of Allagan mages known as ‘summoners.’ I’ve even been petitioning the Arcanists of Limsa to lend me a capable member of their guild to aid in my research, as I am given to believe Arcanists and Summoners share a great deal in common. But thus far, none have answered my call…”

Twilight tilted her head, making yet another mental note to investigate these ‘summoners.’ “Gaaaah! A whole world full of things I don’t know about and I don’t have time to study any of it!”

Shaking that thought aside, Twilight turned back to Y’mhitra curiously, and hopefully. “So… Will that help you figure out if something’s… wrong with me? Like, if I’m tempered?”

Y’mhitra closed her eyes, continuing to tap at her chin in a manner similar to how Y’shtola often would when deep in thought. A few moments later, she opened her eyes and nodded. “I believe so… Though I would rather not do so here in public. As remote as this spot is, it does still receive some small amount of foot traffic - especially from other conjurers.”

“Know you, then, of a place where we can speak in private?” Y’shtola asked.

“Yes. I have a room set aside for myself down at the Carline Canopy. It is where I have been staying these past moons. We can speak further there.”

Twilight let out a grunt of irritation. “So we have to walk all the way back to where we started in this city?” she asked even as Y’mhitra strolled by.

Y’shtola grinned down at her. “I trust your hooves can weather the journey?”

Twilight flashed her a small smile of her own. “Probably.”

“Then turn them to paws and let us be on our way.”

Twilight pouted at the blunt command, but for the time being resigned herself to doing as she was told. She focused on the prism on her leg, channelling her magic into it. A moment later, there was a flash and a puff of smoke, and she was once again disguised as a purple carbuncle.

Y’shtola gave a satisfied nod, and together they set off after Mhitra for the Carline Canopy.

Well, this place was crowded.

Arriving at the Carline Canopy, Twilight was met with the winding grassy path alongside a cliff edge that led back out of the city. To her right, however, was a building she’d paid little mind to before. It was a wide-open entrance that didn’t seem to believe in windows or doors leading straight to a decently sized room covered with tables and chairs. She’d almost describe it as a tavern, but the desks lining the far wall seemed far more… logistical, and far less inclined to serve the likes of Sweet Apple Acres’ latest batch of apple cider.

That didn’t seem to stop the tables from being packed with a wide assortment of individuals. Many were dressed in common clothes, while a smattering of others wore flowing robes or battle-dented armour. The quiet chatter that permeated the interior space was enthusiastic but reserved.

To the far left was a winding staircase leading downward, though she couldn’t tell exactly where to. Off to her right, however, was another entrance and a desk that appeared akin to a hotel check-in; an inn, perhaps?

Sensing her numerous questions, Y’mhitra glanced down at the softly glowing carbuncle and gave her a small smile.

“This place serves as Gridania’s adventurer’s guild, where the brave and the bold get their starts. Alternatively, it is also the entrance to the airship landing as well as host to a few inn rooms where those mentioned adventures can get some well-deserved TLC.”

Twilight just nodded along. She’d have some comments, but carbuncles didn’t seem to be the talkative type, so it was best to not defy that particular expectation.

“Come on,” Y’shtola said. “Let us go to this room of yours so we can speak privately.”

“Way ahead of you,” Y’mhitra confirmed, striding off towards the check-in nearby. “Hi there! Just checking in!”

“Oh, Miss Rhul,” the innkeeper greeted. “I didn’t expect to see you. Not at this time, at any rate. The sun is still high and all.”

The innkeeper looked past the miqo’te, ignoring the ‘carbuncle’ while their eyes came to a rest on the Scion in the room.

“Uh, will your companion be requiring one as well? You do recall your room contains but the one bed.”

“It is fine, we’re sisters. Top and tailing is nothing new to us.”

Y’shtola glared at her sister quite venomously. “We are visiting, Mhitra.”

“Yes, but I had to get back at you for the Nixie comment. Besides, you snore, so I wouldn’t share a room even if there was a second bed.”

Y’shtola’s eye twitched.

Before any further barbs could be traded, the innkeeper swiftly stepped around and pulled open a small, waist-high wooden gate next to the counter that led deeper into the building. “Y-your room awaits you, Miss Rhul!” they stammered out, clearly eager to get the impending catfight out of public view.

Y’mhitra gave a victorious smirk before sashaying through the gate. Y’shtola huffed. “The nerve of that one…” she grumbled before smiling and following after her, Twilight close at her heels.

“Reminds me of Shining, almost…”

Y’mhitra led them through the halls for a short way, eventually pushing open one door near the end of the corridor. The room beyond was spacious, lit by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling that was wrapped in orange paper, providing a very homely ambience. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window against the back wall, lending its own soothing glow to the space. Against the far right corner was a single bed fit for one, while numerous other basic amenities were scattered about.

Most notable of all were the books. Twilight’s eyes bulged in their sockets as she spied tomes upon tomes stacked up on the table, at the foot of the bed, and anywhere and everywhere else that wasn’t already occupied by necessities. It was almost like a miniature library in here!

“And here we are,” Y’mhitra stated, closing the door behind them. “Now, down to business. Twilight, if you would, please stand in the centre of the room and hold still, please. And drop your glamour. I need as few disturbances as possible.”

Twilight nodded, heading for the middle of the room, allowing her disguise to fade away. All the while, her eyes roamed around the numerous books the miqo’te had collected. “Wow… you have a lot of books,” she dumbly stated.

“I may have… gotten a little carried away in my research,” Y’mhitra confessed with a small blush as she made for the window to close the curtains. “I am still not sure how I’m going to move all of it when my time here is at an end…”

Y’shtola shrugged. “When the time comes, perhaps you could allow the Scions to take some of these off your hands?”

“Perhaps.”

The trio lapsed into silence as Y’mhitra continued to flit about the room like Pinkie in the bakery, closing the curtains and rummaging through various books she had scattered around the room. Finally, she settled on one. She read over one page multiple times before stepping forward and taking up a position in front of Twilight.

“According to this, the way Primals tempered their victims was by way of pouring an immense amount of their own aether into their targets. In such a manner, their victim’s aether would become elementally oversaturated, and their souls shackled to the essence of the Primal. And so, behaviour aside, a surefire way to tell if one has been tempered is to observe the state of their aether.”

A muffled thump accompanied the tome being snapped shut. “Such a spell is simple enough to work with. However, that said, with you, Twilight, it may not be so simple…”

Twilight frowned, tilting her head. “Huh? How come?”

Y’shtola spoke up. “Because, if all you have told us is true, then the Tree of Harmony is not aligned to any one aetherial element. Your descriptions make it sound more like it is aspected to Light.”

“...Light?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Think of Aether as elementary particles, and each can come with a sort of ‘charge.’ Astral, or Umbral - light, and darkness, respectively.”

“So… like protons and electrons?” Twilight asked with a frown.

There was a brief pause as the two sisters shared a confused glance.

“...I do not know what those are,” Y’shtola bluntly confessed.

“The point is,” Y’mhitra redirected them. “If this Tree of Harmony of yours has tempered you, then it may be difficult to determine. Without any particular elemental alignment, it could simply be it has supercharged your aether and left you, for want of a better term, ‘glowing.’ But without knowing your base elemental inclinations…”

Twilight frowned. Did she have a base elemental inclination? It had never occurred to her to really think of it that way. ‘Aether’ was still such a foreign concept to her, and for it to permeate this world so completely as to form the fundamental building blocks of all matter made her own contributions to the discussion very limited.

That said…

“Well… I’m an alicorn,” she began slowly, slowly working through the logic in her head. “Which means I have a little bit of three different races of pony flowing through my body. I have earth pony strength, who are naturally attuned to the land. I also have the gifts of flight and cloud walking from the Pegasi, which I would assume is tied to the air.”

“So it’s possible you’re naturally aligned to Earth and Wind,” Y’mhitra noted. “And the third race?”

Twilight winded. “Er… Unicorns. And that’s how I started. I only became an alicorn later. I can’t think of an element that unicorns would be associated with, though. We don’t really measure worldly elements beyond what is light and what is dark.”

“Nevertheless, it is a start,” Y’shtola noted before turning to Y’mhitra. “Is there aught I can do to assist you?”

“For now, just make sure nothing explodes,” Y’mhitra said before turning to face Twilight. She took a deep breath and outstretched her hands. “Now, this may feel… strange.”

And then her hands began to emit white light.

Twilight immediately felt something washing over her, a tingling on her skin swiftly worming its way into her core. She squirmed in place, trying not to fight the sensation as she, too, began to glow and radiate magical light.

Y’mhitra closed her eyes, focusing intently as she went to work. Time began to pass, seconds slowly ticking by into minutes. Every so often, Y’mhitra would mutter something to herself, but she was otherwise perfectly silent as she worked her magic. Twilight did her best to hold still, but it was hard to resist the urge to shift, squirm, and occasionally grimace with discomfort. It was an odd feeling to have another’s magic so effortlessly rooting around within her own, and she had to fight her own instincts to try and force the intruder out.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it ended. Y’mhitra ceased the flow of her magic, and the near-blinding glow that had filled the room winked out. Then, to the surprise of all, the miqo’te collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath.

“Mhitra!” Y’shtola exclaimed, rushing to her sister’s side. “Are you alright?!”

Y’mhitra nodded, still panting. “Y-yes. Forgive me, I just… over-extended myself,” she apologized weakly, offering Y’shtola a weak smile.

Twilight slowly stood up, the anticipation starting to get to her. “So… what’s the verdict?” She asked anxiously. “Am I alright? Am I tempered, or…”

Y’mhitra looked up to Twilight. Then, with a grimace, she rose back to her full height, with Y’shtola supporting her all the way. “N-nay, I do not believe so. For all of the abnormalities I sensed in your aether, nothing I saw was consistent with the effects of tempering.”

Twilight blinked. “...Abnormalities?” she questioned. Somehow, that word only made her feel even more uneasy.

“No doubt a result of your otherworldly nature,” Y’shtola theorized. “We have long pinned down the fact that your magic flows in slightly different ways from our own.”

“It’s more than that,” Y’mhitra corrected with a shake of her head. She pulled away from Y’shtola and walked closer to Twilight, now steady on her feet. She knelt down in front of the alicorn so they were eye to eye, and Twilight could see the fascination the miqo'te now had for her.

“In all of my years, I do not believe I have ever come across another being with so much… dormant aether. You were like the sun in my mind’s eye… a sun that had gone dull and dim… or, perhaps, simply had yet to brighten with life.”

Twilight blinked. She wasn’t sure how to feel about being compared to the sun of all things, as that was Celestia’s domain. And while she knew she had a great deal of newfound magic potential as an alicorn, that comparison had to have been a bit of a stretch.

Right?

“But… I’m not tempered,” she stressed, wanting to distract herself from that. “Right?”

Y’mhitra nodded. “As far as I could tell, no, you are not.”

Twilight visibly relaxed, and even Y’shtola seemed to bleed some of her tension and scepticism.

“If anything, I’d compare her more to the primals themselves.”

The hairs on the back of Twilight’s neck violently stood on end as Y’shtola’s glare returned with divine vengeance.

“Wait, Shtola, don’t get the wrong idea!” Y’mhitra blurted out, interposing herself between the Scion and the pony. “I assure you, she is perfectly physical and not at all made of aether! Flesh and blood, just like you and I. I merely meant to state a comparison between her dormant energies to the power level you might expect from those accursed deities.”

Y’shtola’s eyebrow raised high. “That only assuages my concerns slightly. Just how powerful is she, exactly?”

“I… can’t really say. Twilight, do you have any frame of reference? How strong are the magic users of your world?”

The alicorn scuffed a hoof across the wooden floor. “I mean, I was among the most gifted unicorn mages. There weren’t many above me, actually! But ever since I became an alicorn…”

“You…?” Y’shtola bade her continue when she paused.

“...Well, there aren’t many others like me in Equestria. There’s Princess Celestia, Luna, Cadence… Cadance isn’t all that different to me, honestly. But Celestia and Luna… well, the sun and moon kind of… move when they command it…”

The silence that hit the room was most telling, the two sisters glancing at each other with quite different expressions. Y’mhitra took this newest information with an equal mix of fascination and profound concern, while Y’shtola seemed to be resisting the urge to grit her teeth and break her calm facade.

“The sun,” Y’shtola subsequently deadpanned. “You are telling me that, were you to will it, you could move the heavens themselves?”

“No! Well, I don’t think so. Celestia is specially attuned to the sun, and a millennia more powerful than I am!” Twilight quickly explained. “So don’t worry! Completely harmless!”

“Just don’t feed her crystals anytime soon. Who knows what might happen?” Y’mhitra lightly joked.

“Indigestion,” the alicorn shot back. “I’m not a dragon!”

“Be that as it may,” Y’shtola continued. “All the more reason you are not to leave my sight. And all the more reason we need to find your assailant, if the magic of your world is truly capable of such feats…”

“You know, I’d kind of hoped to earn your trust through this little exercise…” Twilight noted dejectedly.

“Some of my concerns have indeed been set aside. I concede you are not a tempered agent of a primal. But if such raw power lies within you, more the fool am I to let you wander Eorzea in reach of all who would use you for ill.”

“To be fair to the poor girl, she’s not moving a rock in her current state, let alone the sun,” Y’mhitra noted, standing and walking towards one of her many stacks of books. “And on that note, I have something that might help with that.”

Twilight watched as Y’mhitra plucked a thick leather-bound book from the pile. Its cover was a deep shade of blue, with elaborate geometric patterns etched into its surface. She brought it over to Twilight and presented it to her.

Twilight tilted her head, gingerly taking the book in her magic. It weighed more than it should have, once again reminding her how stunted her capabilities were. Flipping it open curiously, she was met with pages upon pages loaded with unusual patterns, shapes, and grids, each one surrounded with labels and detailed notes. Confused, she glanced up at Y’mhitra.

“What is this?”

“I mentioned earlier that I have been waiting for the Arcanists in Limsa to send me someone to aid in my research on the summoners, yes?” she asked, turning and walking over to the window. She pulled the curtains open, allowing sunlight to stream in. “...Well, given how long I am being forced to wait, I decided it might be for the best if I attempted to study Arcanism myself. Alas, with all of the other responsibilities I have, especially with all of that research going on with the Crystal Tower of late, I’ve had little to no time to actually practice that field of magic.”

She turned and pointed at the book Twilight now held. “That book is an Arcanist’s spellbook. In it are the geometric shapes and patterns with which Arcanists weave their spells, tapping into natural power housed in specific geometric patterns. It is a form of spellcraft rooted in logic, reasoning, and critical thought; and from what I have seen and heard of you, these are areas in which you excel.”

Twilight’s eyes widened as she returned her attention to the page in front of her. “Wow… so, with this, I can use my magic more effectively?” she asked, her wings unfolding slightly in anticipation.

“If nothing else, it should allow you to control it better,” Y’mhitra said. “You’ve had trouble calling on your magic since arriving in Eorzea. Well, with that tome in your possession, you effectively have a means of overcoming that hurdle. At least until you learn to harness this world’s aether effectively into your usual spellcraft.”

Y’shtola frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “A very generous gift, Mhitra… but I feel compelled to remind you that Arcanism is no simple field of magic. The book all on its own will do Twilight precious little, and we are still a long way from Limsa Lominsa and its Arcanists.”

Y’mhitra smiled, gently placing a hand over her heart. “I said I had little time to practice the craft. Not that I hadn’t practised it at all. If you are so concerned, then I’d be willing to teach Twilight the very basics. I even have a few books on the subject as well.”

Twilight’s ears shot up at that. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she looked up to Y’mhitra, a big grin splitting her muzzle. “You have books on this?! Oh, then yes, please! Teach me everything you can! I need all the help I can get! And maybe I can prod your brain about these summoners while we’re at it!”

Y’mhitra smiled in amusement at the declaration before turning to her sister. “Well, so long as you have no objections?”

Y’shtola smiled and shook her head. “Nay. I am bound for Limsa, but I can afford to wait a few days if it means Twilight can get a better grasp of her surroundings and her abilities. I may even be willing to offer some assistance with the former.”

Y’mhitra grinned, her hands coming together in a joyous motion. “Wonderful! Then we should get started right away!”

“I agree!” Twilight said, flipping back to the first page in the Arcanist book. “So, where do I start?”

She suddenly paused when she came to the first page and saw the words inscribed above the first geometric shape.

Summon Carbuncle.

“...What kind of joke is this?”

Author's Note

Wonder how long until she's going to be putting that arcanist tome to use...

11 - Imperial Will

“Okay, here goes,” Twilight said under her breath, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Her new arcanism spellbook floated in the air beside her, opened to the ‘Summon Carbuncle’ page. Y’shtola and Y’mhitra were watching quietly from a respectful distance away, the former with her arms crossed and the latter with her eyes practically glowing with anticipation.

They were in Y’mhitra’s room in the Carline Canopy, the curtains drawn shut to keep out the illuminating rays of morning sunlight. It had been a few days since Twilight was first handed the spellbook, and she felt she had a firm enough grasp of the basic concepts to try and bring out what was to be, in effect, her conjured copycat.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She ran through the numbers and the calculations in her head. Arcanism was a form of spellcraft rooted in logic and critical thought; picking apart the foundational rules of the aetherial world and exploiting them for magical effects.

Finally, the number clicked into place in her mind. Twilight opened her eyes and began to channel power into the book from her horn. Her magenta aura flowed into the pages, which glowed emerald in response. A ball of swirling green magic rose from the pages, rippling like the surface of a pool of water.

“Easy… easy…” Y’mhitra whispered, her hands balling up into fists.

Twilight tuned her out, focusing on the sphere. Then, with a small grunt, she faced the book away from her, and the emerald ball of light shot out to strike the ground with a flash of light and a gust of wind. Twilight squinted against the light, wincing in surprise from the bright flash. “Did it work?”

A moment passed, and the light faded. Twilight blinked away the stars floating in her vision and looked to the sight of her attempt.

“Expertly done,” Y’shtola complimented from the side with a small smile tugging at her lips. For there, standing in front of Twilight and dutifully staring back at her, was a carbuncle. But where Twilight’s glamour was coloured a pale lavender, this one was a striking shade of cyan… and was perhaps a bit smaller than when Twilight transformed.

“I did it…!” Twilight breathed, her wings ruffling excitedly at her sides. She turned back to the others with a giddy squeal, clapping her hooves together in front of her chest. “I did it!”

Y’shtola merely offered an impressed nod, while Y’mhitra jumped in the air.

“Very impressive for your first try! And the best part is she looks stable and obedient! I don’t think you’ll have any issues moving forward!” Y’mhitra exclaimed, grinning.

“Issues? What issues?” Twilight asked, suddenly wondering whether she should have read a few more pages ahead. Why would they put the warnings at the back of the book!?

“Oh, nothing… I don’t think we need to worry about it,” Y’mhitra deflected.

“That said, I would advise you to work on your summoning time,” Y’shtola pointed out a bit more critically. “For as stable as your new familiar is, it will avail you nought if you struggle to bring it out in a timely fashion in dangerous circumstances.”

Twilight winced, then nodded. “R-right… I will, don’t worry.”

“I’d also avoid using it unless you have to. Practice your new magical focus in private settings,” the second miqo’te suggested. “A carbuncle summoning another carbuncle might make those in passing a little too curious.”

“Also noted.”

“You know, Shtola, I’d love for her to stay a while longer while we really get into the nitty-gritty of her studies. It’d accelerate her adjustment to our aether while giving me a unique insight into the magical practices of another star!”

“Not because you’d wish your sister remain, then?” Y’shtola asked in turn with a raised eyebrow.

“Ulp! I mean, you’d also be completely welcome!”

She took on a wry smile at that. “‘Tis but a jest, sister. Alas, I fear we cannot remain. I have left things too long in Vylbrand. The Sahagin continue their raids and, more pressingly, the Admiral has expressed concern about the kobolds of late.”

“You don’t think-”

“I cannot say for certain, but you must understand my urgency should the Lord of Crags be raised from the aetherial sea once more.”

Twilight frowned at that. Lord of Crags? If she was a betting mare, that sounded like another grandiose title for one of the false ‘Gods’ of this world.

As if sensing the question, Y’shtola raised a hand to Twilight to prevent its asking.

“All in due time. For now, suffice to say your thoughts are almost certainly on the correct path. Be that as it may, the Maelstrom would be hard-pressed to withstand an assault while also suffering Sahagin raids. The area has always been amongst the most volatile, Twelve forbid should both Crag and Whorl come into the fray simultaneously.”

Y’mhitra nodded. “I… see your point. But you won’t even consider leaving her here?”

“I’m right here you know…” Twilight muttered.

“I’m afraid I still cannot let her leave my sight,” Y’shtola continued unabated. “As I’ve already said, I might add. I need not repeat my reasoning.”

“Alright, fair enough! Scared and adorable equine is a time bomb, gotcha!”

“Okay, so, somebody needs to remember I’m in the room before this ‘time bomb’ gets fidgety,” Twilight deadpanned.

Y’shtola turned to the alicorn. “Ah, my apologies. But truly, it is high time we departed. Between mine own concerns and yours, there is only so long we can remain in one place without risking much.”

“Yeah, I know,” Twilight conceded, turning then to the sister of her apparent foalsitter. “Thanks for all your help, Y’mhitra! All this arcanism and summoning is just so… fascinating! I promise I’ll take extra care of this tome, and write an essay on the integration and differences of our magics the moment I fully understand it!”

“Not so fast, I’m co-authoring that paper,” she declared in turn. “Can’t have you taking all the credit when it reaches the stiffs in Sharlayan, can I?”

“It’s a deal!”

With that, Twilight made sure to re-engage her glamour, replacing the alicorn with the lavender carbuncle once again. Her own created carbuncle tilted its head at her in response, plodding forward to sniff at its summoner before sitting down with a confused whine.

“Right, this is very weird,” the pony conceded. “I’ll summon you later, okay?”

The carbuncle panted happily at that.

Twilight nodded, ceasing the spell with a flash of her concealed horn, the carbuncle returning to pure aether that was rapidly channelled back through the book and then into Twilight herself. She then passed the book over to Y’shtola for safekeeping.

“You know, I’d almost think it was a real dog or something, the way it acts,” she noted to the woman.

“Merely an advanced simulation of one, meant to better foster one’s connection with the construct, or so I am to understand,” Y’shtola concurred.

“Not that there aren’t ones advanced enough to arguably gain a true spark of life, but that’s a whole other thing,” Y’mhitra added.

Now, that brought up a whole host of moral questions Twilight didn’t want to think about right now.

“You be safe, got it?” Y’mhitra said to Y’shtola, giving her sister quite the glare, to ensure she got the message across. “If you do something so reckless that it gets you killed, I’ll never forgive you and might be inclined to ensure it sticks!”

Y’shtola gave her a small smile. “You mistake my approach to situations for Yda’s, but yes, I shall endeavour to be careful. Be well, Mhitra.”

“Right. And you, Twilight, look after her for me too, yeah?”

Twilight blinked. “Me?”

“You seem capable. Do it for me?”

“Um, yes! Definitely!”

“Good. Now, you two go off and save the world or some such. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thank you, sister,” Y’shtola said conclusively. “And be well.”

After saying their farewells, Twilight and Y’shtola briefly stopped in at one of Gridania’s markets to restock on supplies for the road ahead, and then set off. According to Y’shtola, the intent was to return to Vesper Bay, and from there take a ferry to the city-state of Limsa Lominsa.

Naturally, Twilight had a fair few questions about their destination, and Y’shtola was happy enough to give her at least a basic idea of what to expect. It was a port city on the southwestern tip of the island of Vylbrand, and bore a staggeringly powerful reputation as a city of pirates and cutthroats. A description that was, according to Y’shtola, simultaneously accurate as inaccurate.

A paradox that Twilight wanted to dig deeper into, but Y’shtola insisted that such questions wait until they were closer to the city. There were dangers to be had on the way, and it would be wise to keep their wits about them until they were on a boat bound for Limsa. Twilight was aggravated by this, but she ultimately gave in.

They followed the same route as they did to arrive in the Shroud in the first place, winding their way through gradually thinning trees and warming climes for several days, only stopping for rest as needed. Y’shtola was clearly eager to get back to where she was needed, and Twilight couldn’t blame her.

Her mind began to wander once more to her friends back home. How were they taking her absence? She must have pondered such things a million times by now, but how could she not? They must have been worried sick about her. She could only imagine that they had tried to make use of Spike to get in touch, only for their messages to blow back into their faces.

And what about Celestia? Cadance? Shining Armor? Her parents? So many ponies who had no idea where she was, or if she was even alive. It was enough to make her stomach churn every time she thought about it, but she just couldn’t help it…

She was suddenly drawn from her ruminations when Y’shtola placed a hand on her head, bringing them both to a stop. Twilight blinked, looking around.

They were right at the border of the Black Shroud. The land sloped down and away from them, and she could just make out Highbridge in the distance, perhaps another few hours travel away. She could also see the now-familiar landmark of the burning wall looming threateningly to her left in the distance.

It was getting on towards evening. Were they supposed to stop for the night? Confused, she turned to Y’shtola. “What’s wrong?”

“Something is amiss…” Y’shtola said quietly, taking her hand off of Twilight’s head and withdrawing her wand. “Listen…”

Twilight frowned, but did as she was told, perking up her ears and listening for anything out of the ordinary. At first, all she could hear were the distant calls of wildlife in the forest behind her, and the dry wind rustling the branches of the smaller trees that lay peppered around the fringes of the Twelveswood.

But then she heard it. The sound of steel sliding free from a scabbard.

Twilight cried out as Y’shtola suddenly stepped in front of her and threw her arms wide, erecting a dome of pale blue magic light. And not a moment too soon, a deafening bang sounding from nearby, making Twilight jump and squeak in alarm. Something struck against the barrier with the sound of cracking glass, and Twilight gasped as she saw a small ball of red-hot steel fall to the dirt with a sizzling thud.

And then there was a flurry of movement. Twilight took a fearful step back as a team of men and women of all races, clad in black and red armour, surged from nearby positions of cover. Some held swords, while others wielded magical implements such as staffs or wands. One of them, a man who stood tall and slender like an elezen, wielded a sword that was markedly different from the others. A barrel ran along the base of the blade, and it was emitting smoke.

“Imperials? Here?!” Y’shtola snarled with strain. She quickly let one hand fly to her hip and tossed Twilight’s book over to her. “Ready yourself!”

Twilight barely caught the book in her magic, her mind racing with confusion. Her eyes darted about in a frantic haze as the imperials swiftly moved to surround them. Who were these people?! And what in the world could they be after?!

The soldiers with the smoking blade, the leader, Twilight presumed, pointed his blade at Y’shtola. “Surrender the creature. Now!” he spat in a condescending snarl.

Y’shtola scowled. “I think not. I do not answer to you nor your masters.”

“You are surrounded,” the soldier pointed out threateningly, his subordinates closing in a few steps for emphasis. “And severely outnumbered. You’ve no chance of victory, savage.”

As the verbal barbs continued to sail back and forth, Twilight quickly opened her spellbook and flipped for the page to summon her carbuncle. Sweat was building on her brow, fear ensnaring her heart in a vice grip. She hadn’t been expecting to need to defend herself again so soon, especially not like this. A few moments passed before she found the page and began to concentrate.

And then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing up, Twilight spotted, to her surprise, a… carbuncle?

But unlike her glamour nor her familiar, this one was crimson, like a walking pool of blood… and fangs jutted from its upper lip.

“What the…?” Twilight choked out.

The carbuncle suddenly bared its fangs and lunged. The gem embedded in its forehead pulsed a frightening shade of red, and all at once, a hole was blown open in the side of Y’shtola’s barrier.

Twilight barely even had a chance to scream as the savage little thing fell upon her. She scrambled back, colliding with Yshtola’s hind legs, and barely holding the beast back with her hooves. It snapped and snarled viciously at her like a rabid dog, the high-pitched chitters and growls coming from its maw sending a chill of terror down Twilight’s spine.

The force of the thing’s wild flailing and Twilight’s own attempts to keep it at bay was too much for the fragile glamour to bear. In a moment. the magic shattered, and Twilight’s own true form was revealed to all.

“What?!” Y’shtola exclaimed, staggering from Twilight’s impact and turning to look at the struggle on the ground. Her eyes landed on the hole in her barrier and flew wide as the rest of it began to shatter like a broken window.

“Now! FIRE!” the imperial commander shouted. But Twilight couldn’t see what was happening through the fangs in her face.

She struggled against the carbuncle for several seconds, grunting and screaming with effort. She tried to focus on her magic and her spells, but she couldn’t concentrate! All she could do was struggle as the sound of gunshots vaguely filled her ears, and likewise the thrums of magics deflecting them. But whatever was happening there, this thing had her pinned. Desperate, she tried to punch it in the face, only for the beast to respond by sinking its sharp teeth deep into Twilight’s hoof.

A small spray of blood slapped across Twilight’s face, and white-hot pain filled her hoof as the carbuncle began to throw its head from side to side. Twilight screamed, her vision going white. Everything else faded away, raw instinct taking over. With a guttural shout, she finally managed to get her hind legs positioned against the carbuncles belly and kicked up with all the force she could muster.

The carbuncle flailed back onto the ground with a snarling growl of rage, quickly moving to right itself and kicking up dust with its movements. Twilight rose back to her hooves in response, grimacing with pain as weight was placed on her injured hoof. She reached for her book with her magic, but she was too slow. The carbuncle was already upright and lunging for her yet again.

Only for a spike of rock to emerge from the ground and slam into the carbuncles belly, throwing it into the air with the sound of cracking bones. Twilight blinked in surprise, pulled her book to her side, and turned back to see that Y’shtola’s wand was aglow with magic.

She wasn’t sure how Y’shtola had managed it, but several of the imperials were on the ground a ways back, looking to have been thrown off their feet somehow. Judging by the look of strain on Y’shtola’s face, she could only assume that it had been her doing.

“Summon your carbuncle!” Y’shtola commanded, glaring at where the crimson one had landed. “And fight back!”

Twilight nodded shakily before quickly focusing on the pages. In short order, she funnelled magic into the pages and fired off the green sphere of light. With a pulse of energy, her own carbuncle appeared at her side, already lowering its chest into an aggressive stance.

“Gah! Don’t just lay there you fools!” the imperial commander bellowed as he hauled himself back to his feet. “KILL HER! Take the creature!”

That sent a chill down Twilight’s spine and a thrill of adrenaline through her veins. She hadn’t really connected it a second ago, but these people were after her. Her. She didn’t know why, and that terrified her more than anything else right now.

That was until she saw the scarlet carbuncle charging her again. She gave off a squeak of panic before her own carbuncle sprang into action. Twilight watched as hers bound forward before a sphere of greenish energy erupted from the ruby in its head. The crimson one didn't even have time to react before it was struck by the spell, and a powerful gust of wind sent it rocketing back and into a nearby tree.

Twilight didn’t wish to give the construct a chance to right itself, her book springing open as she channelled her magic into it. She didn’t exactly know what she was doing, all she knew was that she wanted to stop it from hurting her again. Her horn thusly grew brighter, almost as if her standard bolt was building at its tip, before that magic seemed to redirect through the book as if to act as a focus for her struggling mana.

And then it was unleashed from the pages, a wave of lavender magic consuming the feral carbuncle in a ball of destructive energy, before dissipating with the creature nowhere to be found.

Twilight stared at the charred spot, before sparing a look at the page her book had flipped itself open to.

Ruin.

As they’d all hoped, so long as she had the tome, her magic had something to focus on and manifest in the correct manner, at least until she’d adjusted fully! But bereft as she was of her usual strength, it would certainly do in the interim.

Twilight brought her gaze around to the scene continuing around her. Another of the attacking soldiers was down on the ground, cradling a wound while three more bared down on Y’shtola with their leader a short way behind them.

He levelled his weapon, a mix between a firearm and a blade at Y’shtola, and Twilight realized he was about to launch another of those metallic projectiles at her. Twilight’s eyes flew wide, and she quickly focused on her book, trying to cast ruin again.

Bang.

The shot rang out clear, but to Twilight’s surprise, the bullet did not hit Y’shtola. Instead, the shot redirected around her outstretched hand and directly into the throat of one of the oncoming soldiers. Another spray of blood flew from him as he slumped to the ground with a gurgle of agony. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock before her cast of ruin finally completed. The sphere of magic flew free from her tome and arced toward the second of Y’shtola’s attackers. The bolt of energy struck him in the gut, sending the man to the ground with a cry of pain.

The third hesitated briefly, and Twilight could see the fear in his posture. Her heart twisted in her chest out of pity for the man. He may have been trying to kill them, but he had nonetheless just watched one of his friends die.

Without another word, the soldier threw his weapon to the ground. “To hells with this!” he exclaimed in fear, turning to flee.

Bang.

Twilight’s skin went ashen as another shot rang out, and the fleeing soldier toppled forward to the ground, a gushing red hole having appeared between his shoulder blades.

Y’shtola and Twilight both turned horrified eyes on the imperial commander. The barrel of his gun was smoking, his hand steady. He turned back to his opponents with a scoff. “Tch. Bloody, savage conscripts… Cowardice shall not be tolerated in my troop,” he stated in a cold, clinical tone.

Y’shtola’s tail bristled with rage. With a barely restrained cry of rage, the miqo’te raised her wand, sending a powerful burst of wind flying for the soldier. He weathered the blast, digging his feet into the ground and bracing against it.

The moment the winds ended, he lunged forward, his blade slicing for Y’shtola. She grunted with effort, forming a barrier with her hand at the last second, catching the blade mere inches from her chest. The soldier grimaced… then pulled the trigger.

Another bang sounded from his blade, a flash of flame erupting from the barrel. Though the bullet flew harmlessly into the air, the flash of the muzzle so close to Y’shtola’s face was still enough to send the woman staggering back with a cry of alarm, a hand flying up to cover her eyes.

The imperial commander capitalized on this before either of his opponents could react, driving his armoured boot into Y’shtola’s knee. Twilight tensed involuntary, anticipating a crunch of bone. Thankfully, the blow did not break Y’shtola’s leg, but it still carried with it sufficient force to knock the miqo’te to the ground with a cry of pain.

“NO!” Twilight exclaimed, channelling more power into her tome. At the same time, her carbuncle bounded forward and hurled itself against the soldier’s chest with a metallic clang. The imperial staggered back with a grunt. He began to reach for Twilight’s carbuncle, but didn’t get the chance to do anything. Twilight’s spell went off, a pulse of lavender light rocketing from her tome to strike his helmet.

The sound of shattering metal was heard, and shrapnel from the demolished helmet was sent scattering into the air. The soldier screamed. It was a horrible, gurgling sound that gave Twilight pause. The soldier fell to his knees, clawing at his face and his helmet, trying to pry the once protective covering off, but to no avail. And in his flailing, Twilight realized there was now blood running freely down his face and between his fingers, and the brief glimpse she saw of his face under his helmet let her see more than enough of the damage her spell had caused.

“Merciful Celestia…” she choked out, mortified.

The soldier squirmed in agony for a moment longer before finally crumpling to the ground and falling still.

Silence befell the fresh battlefield, the bodies of their attackers littering the road around them. The scant few remaining alive, if injured, started to hobble and crawl away with soul-wrenching whimpers and croaks of fear.

A fear of her.

Of what she just did.

A book clattered to the ground, followed by the alicorn who found she could no longer stand. Her entire body was trembling, and her breaths were coming faster and faster. Her stomach churned and twisted with revulsion and horror, and were she not so transfixed by the gruesome scene before her, she might have feared she’d lose her lunch. Her gaze remained on the commander, and what remained of his head after it was torn by the shattered remains of his helmet.

It… it wasn’t meant to be like that! She just wanted to knock him down, not… that.

There was so much blood…

“Pray, still your heart, Twilight…” she heard Y’shtola softly utter. “You saved me from serious harm, if not worse. You have my thanks.”

She didn’t reply.

The miqo’te glanced at the scene around her, her eyes too lingering on the imperial commander, grimacing at the sight. She then turned back to the alicorn, kneeling down next to the despondent mare.

“I trust that his was the first? The first life you have taken.”

“I…”

Of course, she’d seen death before. Not much, but when King Sombra had perished, she’d at least been vaguely involved in those events. But nothing like this…

“I’m sorry,” Y’shtola said sincerely. “But it was a fate they invited, and no fault of your own. You have every right to feel as you do, but know you are not alone in this. You but defended yourself from harm, there are none who can blame you for that… All I ask is that you don’t either.”

Twilight slowly looked towards the woman who, for the first time since she’d met her, didn’t seem all that intimidating. In fact, there was something almost… warm about her.

“Take a moment to collect your thoughts, but we must not delay. There may yet be more of them.”

“Who…?”

“Hm?”

“Who was he…?” Twilight asked solemnly.

Y’shtola stared at the corpse before them, eyes lingering on the telltale armour adorning what was left of the man.

“I do not know. Just that he was a Commander of the Garlean Empire. They’re despotic conquerors who have made repeated attempts to claim Eorzea for their own. That they’re here now bodes ill for the realm as a whole.”

Twilight just hummed, idly absorbing that information as she continued to stare at her victim. Did he have a family? A life beyond what little she glimpsed? He’d been so callous, cold. He’d killed his own man simply for being scared…

But did he deserve that? That?

What would Celestia say to her if she knew…

Y’shtola sighed, realizing there was little she could say for the moment to ease the little pony’s mind. She stood up again, giving her a moment as she recovered the discarded tome and examined the landscape around them. She could see no sign of further imperials amidst the thinning trees surrounding them. It appeared at a glance that their attackers had all been slain.

And yet…

She looked towards the charred mark where that crimson carbuncle had fallen, eyes narrowing in thought. Their assailants had been standard conscripts by and large, no one with the skills to summon such a unique construct.

So, where was the arcanist responsible?

Answering her own question, her eyes trailed to a nearby rise in the terrain, following it up to the cliffside until they reached the top but a short distance up.

Another pair of catlike eyes met her own, eyes belonging to a grinning miqo’te with red hair. She stood there in armour signifying a not-so-insignificant rank for a non-garlean, that very same crimson carbuncle once again by her side and snarling in a manner that could almost be mistaken for laughter.

“Who… who is she!?” Twilight asked, seemingly knocked from her musings as she too spotted the one watching them.

“I’m… not certain…” Y’shtola responded, and yet something about her seemed oddly familiar to the woman… “At least, I do not believe so.”

Almost seeming to grin wider at that, the woman turned from the pair and merely walked away. Her ravenous pet stared a few moments more, eye brimming with a gleeful hunger that no mere mindless construct could hold, before it too turned away and followed its master.

“Whoever she is, she is powerful indeed to summon such a creature,” Y’shtola noted, urgently turning back to Twilight. “We must away, quickly.”

Twilight didn’t respond, head turning back to the silent corpse.

“Twilight…”

“I know,” she replied. “Okay, lead the way.”

Y’shtola nodded, her eyes pitying the alicorn. But that would have to come later, for she knew they would do well not to remain idle for the web of the Empire to catch them again…

Y’sanna rem Extorris left the victorious pair behind, wholly unperturbed by their victory. Instead, she made for the host of imperial soldiers waiting a short distance away, all tense and seemingly prepared for a fight.

“How delicious…” she mused, coming up to her men and offering them the same grin she’d worn since the fight. “It appears our quarry has repelled the vanguard, as expected.”

“Expected?” the commander of the squad asked. “Ma’am, you knew they’d fail?”

“They faced a Scion and an unknown being, but their deaths proved a suitable test for their capabilities, do not agree?”

“I… yes, quite right…”

“Indeed, I thought as much,” she noted evenly, then turning back to where the scene distantly stood and crossed her arms in contemplation. “Hm, not a potent display from the equine. Though from the words of the Tribunus, she would be struggling of late. So, the tome is a focus for that untapped aether, and given what happened to the poor commander… Oh, if that is but a sliver of the potential in you, my dear, I wonder just what you can do without the crutch…”

“Primus…?”

“Oh, forgive me. But the idea of what lies beneath the unskilled exterior has me salivating at the prospects. Imagine the power of an eikon without the drawbacks. Not to mention all the tests I could run and discoveries there are to be made, I’d be the envy of the old fools in Sharlyan.”

“I fail to see why you’d need the approval of savages.”

“Do the ears give a clue?” she purred at the suddenly uncomfortable soldier. “But true enough, my purpose is far greater than they ever had in mind for me. So, if Scaeva and his new paragon friend want a pretty purple pony, I’ll give them a pretty purple pony.”

Her grin fell, a serious grimace replacing it as she turned on her men with a glare that demanded total obedience.

“That overachieving harpy will take our prize with her to Limsa Lominsa, and we shall meet them there. And next time, the Empire will claim it. For the glory of Garlemald!”

“For the glory of Garlemald!” the chorus responded to her.

A fire burned in the woman’s eyes, matching the brutal ferocity of her dutiful carbuncle exactly. Ambition swirled within the two orbs like an unstoppable torrent, a promise of a future of imperial rule, where she would serve at the side of the Emperor himself!

All she had to do was deliver the secrets of one creature, and that future would be hers to reap. She’d show them all what she could do, and she’d show her...

12 - The Rhotano Sea

There was nothing but darkness around her. Twilight blinked in confusion, looking around with wide eyes. “What? Where am I? How did I get here?” she asked out loud. Her ears swivelled as she heard the sound of her own voice echoing around her as if she were in a large enclosed chamber. The way it sounded was familiar to her…

She turned again, squinting into the darkness. “Hello?! Is anypony there?!” she called out. A cold, unsettling feeling was starting to crawl up her back, like an insect using her spine as a ladder. It made her shiver, and she took an instinctual step back.

She was being watched.

“Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight went rigid. The voice had come from behind her, cold, authoritative… and hauntingly familiar. She turned to face the voice, her blood going cold. Up ahead, slightly elevated above her position, a beam of light shone down on the last pony Twilight had expected to see since she came to Eorzea.

“Princess Celestia?”

The Princess of the Sun glared down at her, all of the warm, motherly warmth having long since fled her eyes. She was seated on her throne, and her wings were unfurled in a display of dominance.

“I am disappointed in you, Twilight,” Celestia said slowly, lifting her head to stare down her nose at Twilight.

Twilight flinched back instinctively, her ears lowering. “W-what? Why?! What did I do?”

In response to that question, a new beam of light appeared in front of Twilight, revealing a familiar body. Twilight let out a shriek of fear, taking a step back.

At her hooves was the body of the imperial commander she'd murdered; his helmet shattered, his face mangled with shards of shrapnel and oozing blood onto the carpet. His revealed eye was wide open in agony and terror, staring back at her, white and glassy, with tears of more blood trailing down. Fresh tears.

Celestia gave off a disgusted huff and looked away. “...I thought I had taught you better than this,” she said darkly. “But it seems I was wrong.”

“I… I didn’t…” Twilight stammered, fishing desperately for words. Her stomach twisted in her belly, her heart hammering against her ribs. She tore her eyes away from her victim to stare pleadingly at her old mentor. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! Please, I wasn’t trying to-”

“Do you think your intentions are of any comfort to the dead?!” Celestia suddenly bellowed, rising to her full height. Her voice boomed like thunder, silencing Twilight’s flailing protests. “I taught you to cherish life! ALL life! I taught you—raised you—to help souls like him seek redemption and forgiveness! Just like with Discord and Nightmare Moon!”

Twilight lowered her head, trembling. “I-I’m sorry,” she choked out, her eyes misting over. She screwed them shut, struggling to hold back sobs. “I’m so sorry!”

There was a prolonged moment of silence. She heard Celestia scoff and turn away from her. “Your apologies come too late. The deed is done. This man, regardless of his crimes, is dead, and it is your fault. You are unworthy to be called the Princess of Friendship.”

As the Princess gave her declaration, yet more lights came to be. And standing in each beam of light, Twilight was greeted by the sight of her friends, glaring at her with eyes full of fire and judgement.

“Ah can’t believe y’all would do such a thing. Ah thought y’all were the best of us…”

“It’s ghastly, Twilight! What in Equestria were you thinking?!”

“...I can’t look at you. I’m sorry.”

“How many friends did he have?! How many people are going to miss him?! How many people did you make sad with what you’ve done?!”

“I looked up to you, Twilight! Guh! Why?!”

Twilight spun in a slow circle as each of her friends, the ponies she loved most, delivered their verdicts, her heart shattering with every word of condemnation. “Wait! Please! Just let me explain!”

Another beam of light. It was Spike.

Twilight went rigid, her eyes locking onto his. He stared back at her for several long seconds, his eyes shimmering.

“...Why?” he finally asked softly, his eyes darting to the corpse. “You could have saved him… right?”

“I… I…”

“Right?”

Twilight swallowed heavily. She soon crumpled to the floor, screwing her eyes shut and sobbing pathetically into the floor. “I’m so sorry…”

There was no answer.

And when, finally, she opened her eyes again…

Amongst her betrayed friends and enraged mentor, a single six-pointed crystal floated silently in the dark. The Element of Magic pulsed with gentle light, unnoticed by the others even as it sat amidst the group as clear as the alabaster alicorn’s day.

Tears matting her cheeks, the cold glares of her fellow Equestrians assaulting her worse than any hellfire Ifrit could have hoped to conjure, Twilight’s hoof slowly and shakily began to reach out towards the artefact. For comfort? For hope? She wasn’t sure why, but instinct drove her on.

And then, with a thunderous crack, a fissure opened up in the crystal's surface.

The explosion of darkness that followed swallowed all, the foul miasma erupting from within the crystal as it shattered into dust that scattered along an unseen wind. Twilight could do little to brace herself as she was submitted to the full force of the shadow, just able to make out her friends being wiped away by the darkened magicks with scarcely enough time to scream.

“No… No! Why…?”

And there, standing where the crystal had been mere moments before, a robed figure emerged as if formed from the shadows themselves. A black mask covering half his face, the figure’s naked jaw grinned as a predator would at its prey.

Twilight froze under the familiar ascian’s scrutiny, words failing her amidst the continued onslaught of shadow and his dominating presence both. She wanted to scream, shout, cry. Call for help from anyone! Her friends old and new, Celestia, Y’shtola…

But there was no one. She’d driven them all away. She was entirely alone.

The ascian started to raise his clawed hand towards the young alicorn, digits spread wide almost as if to grab her throat, his movements so vivid, so real… Strangely, to her eyes, more so than the others had been... And then, in yet another burst of shadow, something began to sprout behind him. Crystal a deep corrupted purple exploded high into the air, smaller shards almost like branches sprouting from the trunk like tendrils seeking any sign of light to snuff from existence.

And then the ascian’s face was obscured as a red sigil sparked to life, one final wave of shadow shooting outwards until Twilight’s vision went entirely dark.

“Beware darkness’ minion, child of another star. Doom approaches both at the hour appointed…”

Twilight woke with a blood-curdling scream, sitting bolt upright in her cot. A cold sweat blanketed her body, those strange words echoing in her ears. She looked around, slowly starting to calm down from her panic as reality reasserted itself. The room she was in was dark, but the light of the early morning sun shining in through a porthole let her see her surroundings.

She was in one of many passenger rooms aboard the large ship she and Y’shtola had acquired passage on. There was another cot across the claustrophobic space from her, though its occupant was noteworthy by her absence. A single chest was situated against the wall under the porthole, containing some of their possessions.

Twilight took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. Then, with a quick application of magic, her glamour was applied, and she hopped down from her cot and stepped into the hall. It was still early, and she didn’t see anyone else as she emerged.

She still felt stifled from her nightmare. Her heart was still pounding, and her breaths were shaky. She needed air. She needed space. She made for the top deck at a brisk pace, hopeful that some sunlight and wind could chase away her dread and get her back into a good headspace.

She emerged onto the top deck and was immediately blasted in the face by the frigid ocean wind. She squinted against both it and the bright light of the rising sun. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, she scanned her surroundings until they landed on a lone figure leaning over the rails of the ship, looking down into the passing waters. It was Y’shtola.

The miqo’te turned to her and nodded in greeting. She must have heard Twilight coming up.

“Ah, I see you have awakened. Was it restful, at least?”

“I… can’t say so, no…”

Y’shtola hummed, looking around to ensure nobody was paying attention to the woman talking to ‘her’ carbuncle and, when satisfied, turned back to the disguised mare.

“Pray tell, what troubles you? Though I can hazard a guess.”

Twilight sighed, the little lavender carbuncle hopping up and resting her forelegs on the side of the ship, staring off into the endless blue sea.

“Yeah, I think you can. I just… I didn’t mean to kill him! I just wanted to knock him down, like I did that other soldier. But then I… That spell…! I’m not used to magic here and…! No, it’s an excuse. I can’t excuse it. I’m a monster, just like you said.”

Y’shtola’s eyes creased into a frown at that, and what could almost be mistaken for a hint of guilt appeared. “My fear of your powers has nothing to do with dispatching a single imperial. Regrettable though the act was, and in the manner it befell, t’was in self-defence only. Believe me when I say the Empire would show you less mercy, and we Scions have defended ourselves in like manner many times. Or would you label us monsters as well?”

“What? No! But… I’m not…”

“Do not hold yourself to an arbitrary standard of perfection, it would avail you little. I remain cautious of the potential misuse of your powers, due to their similarities to that of a primal, but you are no monster. Nay, I see you as more of a lost child, thrust into a terrible situation unprepared and unhardened. Do not lose sight of the cost of your actions, but know we would have suffered it in his stead had you not acted as you did.”

“Thanks… I think. I’m not a foal.”

“Upon this star, you are but starting anew,” she retorted playfully, before her more guarded expression returned. “Be that as it may, the power to destroy does remain within you. You will do well to keep it in check, lest it destroy those far less deserving. An outcome I shan’t allow.”

And Twilight thought she’d gotten her to open up for a moment there…

“Right…” she finally replied. “It was weird, though. In my nightmare, on top of… all that stuff, I saw the ascian that brought me here too. But it was weird…”

“How so? 'Tis natural to witness such a visage in your nightmares, given the fiend’s actions that day.”

“I know, that’s what I thought too. But he felt so much more real than everything else. There was this shadow, a woman’s voice… and his face lit up all red for some reason, not sure what that was about.”

Y’shtola’s frown deepened. “Red? A glyph, perchance?”

“Yeah, there was. Like a big crimson eye with three spikey teardrops coming out of the bottom.”

“Indeed? Your description calls to mind the glyph of the black-masked ascians, one they all share. But you had never seen it before? It did not appear when you faced him in your world? Thancred never mentioned such a thing, nor our mutual friend?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Y’shtola hummed, tapping her chin in her typical manner when contemplating something important. She didn’t reply right away, staring off into the sea as mental gymnastics played behind her eyes. It was a good three minutes, at least, before she lowered her arms back to the railing and elected on a response.

“As I believe you are already aware, the ascian you met is but a minion, one of several. Their overlords hold far more daunting attire, and their own glyphs are unique. But that you saw one at all, without prior knowledge, suggests there was more to your dream. Tell me, what of this woman’s voice did you chance to hear?”

“Wait, you’re saying it’s not a dream?” Twilight asked in alarm, her mind racing back on her foalhood studies. On occasion, she had read about prophetic dreams and their applications and mysteries. That specific book had been a favourite of hers for a week or so. “That’s… that could mean… or was he…?”

“Twilight, though I do appreciate the wonderings of the scholarly mind, her words if you please?”

“Oh, right! She said something about… darkness’ minions and the approach of doom?”

“Indeed? Troubling… That She should deign to speak to you, one without the echo or the blessing of light… Perhaps your natural connection to your Element, and its light aspected aether, provides a link for Her to utilize…?”

Twilight’s fake whiskers quivered as she pouted at the scholar. “I’m sorry, the alien pony is lost, please fill it in?”

Y’shtola was snapped from her ruminations and turned back to Twilight. “Ah, forgive me. My mind was awash with speculation. Tell me—what do you know of Hydaelyn?”

Twilight frowned, tilting her head. “I, er… I’ve heard the name, before. Minfillia said Hydaelyn was a ‘Mother’ or something, and Yda told me that Hydaelyn was a big crystal that’s also the planet… which doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Y’shtola nodded. “Very well. To give you a brief explanation, then, Hydaelyn is the true name of a great Crystal that exists, we believe, within the Aetherial Sea. She is a godlike being of immense power who has long watched over this world, with which She shares Her name. To ensure Her will is carried out, She imbues chosen champions with slivers of Her power, which take the form of Crystals of Light. She also grants them the Blessing of Light, and the Echo—a power possessed by precious few that is deeply mysterious, yet allows individuals to more keenly comprehend the truths hiding in the souls of others.

“It is through these gifts that She may commune with Her champions. Yet you possess neither. Even so, ‘tis likely that the voice you heard within your dream was none other than that of Hydaelyn Herself.”

Twilight blinked, slowly looking down. “So… how is she talking to me, then?” she asked slowly.

Y’shtola frowned, turning to look out at the sea. “Though I lack sufficient proof to back it up, I believe I have a theory. Back in the Waking Sands, when first we met, you told us of the Tree of Harmony, and of how it serves as a beacon of light and harmony in your world. Such a description could be just as easily applied to Hydaelyn. As such, I suspect that She felt your entrance into this world, and perhaps used your link to the Element of Harmony you are searching for to reach out to you…”

Her frown deepened, her eyes darkening with worry. “And yet, if it is true that Hydaelyn is reaching out to you in such a manner...”

Twilight tilted her head. “...Let me guess. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Y’shtola turned back to Twilight. “Hydaelyn has never been one to intercede in the affairs of the world without reason. Cryptic as she has long been, that one truth has remained consistent. Whensoever people begin to hear the Crystal’s call, ‘tis almost always in the years preceding a new calamity. For you to hear it, bereft of Her gifts as you are, is of great concern.”

A chill wormed through Twilight’s veins at that. She looked over the edge of the rail and into the water, her brow furrowing. There was still a lot she didn’t know, but this new information brought with it a host of deeply concerning possibilities. Amidst all of them, one truth remained the same as it was when all of this had begun.

Whatever it was that ascian wanted with her Element of Harmony, she had to stop him before it was too late.

Before her thoughts could wander any further, Y’shtola suddenly let out a loud gasp. “By the Twelve!”

Twilight’s eyes snapped open and turned to the scholar. “What is it?!”

Y’shtola pointed over the rails. “Look! Another ship!”

Twilight followed Y’shtola’s gesture and soon caught sight of the vessel. It looked to be somewhat smaller than the passenger vessel they were on. Its sails were shredded, smoke rose out of holes that had been torn into the hull, and Twilight realized with a tiny squeak that the ship was sinking.

And she could see people still on board.

“We have to help them!” she declared, turning to Y’shtola.

Y’shtola nodded firmly. “Indeed. Come, the captain must be made aware!”

There was no need for further discussion. Twilight fell into step beside Y’shtola, both of them sprinting up the stairs that would take them toward the back of the ship and to the captain’s cabin. As they went, Twilight’s eyes flicked back to the sinking ship.

Ascians or not, she’d save these people. No matter what.

She still had to make up for the life she had stolen, after all.

As they crested the top of the stairs, Twilight realized that there was already a rising swell of movement as sailors caught sight of the other vessel. As the captain’s cabin came into view, Twilight spotted a sailor already present, an elezen man. The captain stood in the doorway, a tall roegadyn of green skin and wild brown hair. He said something to the elezen, who in turn nodded and walked away.

Twilight frowned. The elezen’s face was contorted with dismay. Had he been given orders he didn’t like?

“Captain,” Y’shtola said loudly as they approached. “I presume you have been informed about the vessel in distress nearby already. Are we not to render aid?”

The captain gave Y’shtola a flat look before shaking his head. When he spoke, his voice was sharp and raspy, like barnacles scraped along sandstone. “Nay, lass. Whatever scrap as that other ship’s gotten involved in, it ain’t our business. They can fend fer ‘emselves.”

Twilight blinked in surprise, wanting to say something, but bit on her tongue at the last moment. She glanced down at one of her glamoured paws and scowled in irritation.

Luckily, Y’shtola seemed more than capable of carrying her own weight in the discussion. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. “Is that so?”

“Aye. Now if yer quite done wastin’ my time-”

“Imagine if it was us,” Y’shtola interrupted him. “In distress, out on the waves and still far from any port. If they were the ones sailing by us, would you not wish for their aid?”

The captain scowled and took a threatening step forward. “Are ye questionin’ how I run my ship, lass?”

Y’shtola didn’t flinch. “Nay, though I do question the wisdom of leaving innocent souls to their fates so unfalteringly.”

“Bah. Pirates layin’ a trap, like as not,” the captain snorted, glaring past Y’shtola to the ailing vessel. “Either that or it was a Sahagin attack and everyone aboard that ship’s already been dragged into the depths. Either way, I ain’t riskin’ my life, nor me ship, to find out. We sail on.”

With that, the captain slammed the door in their faces. Twilight took a step back, her ears drooping to rest flat against her head. She looked up to Y’shtola, who was quietly seething in place. The miqo’te’s tail was lashing from side to side in agitation.

“Hmph. Coward,” Y’shtola breathed before turning to look back towards the other vessel.

“There has to be something we can do!” Twilight protested, looking out toward the ship, slowly filling with dread. “We can’t just leave them!”

Y’shtola sighed and shook her head. “Alas, from this distance, I am afraid I cannot use my magic to any great effect.”

Twilight swallowed heavily. Her mind drifted back to her nightmare, and the dread in her chest amplified tenfold. She couldn’t just sit here! She couldn’t let more people die if she could do something about it!

Before she knew it, she was sprinting forward, instinct taking over. She heard Y’shtola calling after her, but she did not heed her words. She leapt up onto the railing of the ship, unfurling her hidden wings, and kicked off the side of the boat. The sudden unfurling of her wings disrupted the shape of her glamour, and in a flash of grey light and mist, the image of a lavender carbuncle was dispelled.

“Please let this work, please let this work!”

She flapped her wings hard, but to her dismay, they found little purchase on the wind. Each flap only carried her a few feet before she dropped several more. She grit her teeth and flapped as hard as she could, to no avail.

She was about to hit the water when, suddenly, there was a flash of green light from beneath her, and a powerful gust of wind slammed into her belly, catching her wings. She suddenly soared upward into the air, loosing a frightened scream all the while. She momentarily glanced back and down to find out what had happened, to see Y’shtola below her, standing by the railing, with her wand in hand.

More light swirled around Y'shtola, focusing on her wand, and manifesting in a ball of visibly swirling air. They made eye contact, and Y’shtola shouted after her. “Fly!”

‘She must have used her magic to help me,’ Twilight thought, offering a small nod of thanks. Y’shtola nodded in turn, and then unleashed her spell at Twilight. Twilight quickly adjusted her orientation to catch the wind with her wings, sending her rocketing for the other ship far faster than she otherwise might have expected.

She was still bleeding altitude, and quickly. She grit her teeth, flapping for all she was worth to keep herself in the air long enough to reach the other ship. As she drew closer, she was able to make out more details. It was noticeably smaller than the vessel she had just left and was even less equipped to defend itself.

The damage was even more distressing up close. As she had noted earlier, the sails had been torn into tatters, utterly incapable of catching any more wind. Massive holes had been torn into the ship’s hull, and she could see bodies strewn about on the deck. Her stomach churned and her heart constricted as she saw pools of blood under many of them.

But alongside the dead, there were still those among the living who were scrambling to put out the rapidly spreading fires. She could hear panicked shouts from here. She idly questioned why they weren’t abandoning ship… until she spotted the empty rowboats a little way in the distance.

Some of them must have tried. Either that, or whatever had attacked them had taken away their one viable means of escape.

Whatever the reason, Twilight was here now. And the deck was coming up fast.

She tried to decelerate, but it was no use. Twilight began to scream yet again as she fell like a shooting star onto the top deck of the doomed ship. She skipped off of the wooden panels like a stone before slamming belly first into the ship’s mast and slumping to the floor in a heap.

“What in the seven hells?! What is that?!” she heard someone, a woman, screaming in alarm, her voice scratchy and hoarse, probably due to the smoke.

“Who cares?! Just put out those damn fires! What’s that other ship taking so long for?!”

Twilight groaned, forcing herself back to her hooves. As her wings folded back up to her sides, the disturbance to her glamour ended, and she stood as a carbuncle yet again. She shook her head to chase away the little chocobos that were flying in circles around it before returning her attention to her new surroundings.

“I- ow! …oof. I’m here to help!” she declared, taking a step forward.

“Did it just speak?!” the woman who had spoken earlier, a miqo’te with black hair, asked.

Twilight was getting really tired of people being surprised whenever she talked…

“Does it matter?” the other voice that she had heard a moment ago was revealed to be a tall, dark-skinned elezen. His fancier attire denoted him as likely being the captain of this ship. He looked exhausted and haggard, and Twilight cringed at the sight of several wounds decorating his body. He turned to Twilight with a grim frown. “If a carbuncle is all that other ship can spare, we’re dead in the water already.”

The faux carbuncle’s ears flattened, cursing her stunted magic for the fifty-millionth time that morning alone. She looked between all the scared, desperate faces before her own glanced back across the churning waves to the distant vessel she had left Y’shtola aboard.

And from across the sizable expanse, the woman likewise looked back, a thoughtful look crossing her features before she replaced it with her best indignant scowl and marching back up to the cabin with purpose.

“Captain? T’would do you well to emerge!”

Silence.

Y’shtola’s scowl increased, balling her hand into the fist and pounding it against the wood.

“I refuse to be ignored. So your choices are to endure my persistence or provide the courtesy of answering my summons!”

A moment passed, her fist preparing to resume its pounding, before the door opened to a particularly irritated roegadyn.

“Seven ‘ells, woman. I’m half tempted to leave ya to the sahagin!”

“You may try, but I trust the Admiral looks poorly on such conduct, as do the rogues maintaining your code,” she pointed out sharply. “Alas, there may now be more at stake for you than a visit from their trusty ‘stabbers,' namely your own pockets.”

He blinked, perplexed. “Aye? And why would that be?”

Y’shtola nodded, pointing a finger towards the ailing vessel. “My carbuncle, ever a willful construct, has taken it upon itself to see to the people you’d willingly abandon. And now seems likely to share their miserable fate.”

The Captain shrugged. “And what’s that to do with me, lass?”

Y’shtola gave him a smirk, inwardly hoping his knowledge of arcana was as broad as his sense of morality. “Do you appreciate the price of a carbuncle? To replace it would cost an exorbitant sum for the components needed for the spell… I believe the rare lavender variety goes for 200,000 gil these days.”

The Captain slowly mouthed the price, almost disbelievingly, however he didn’t seem to dispute it as his eyes widened in realization as to just where this was going.

“So, tis a simple matter. If you are unwilling to aid those in need and, in so doing, cost me my very expensive property, then you can expect a missive from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, formerly of the Circle of Knowing, expecting due compensation.”

“Wha- the Scions of the-”

“Oh, you do know the name, then? Then I need not describe our… favourable relationship with the Admiral, little pirate. Nor should I have to explain to you the well-earned reputation of our coin keeper, one Tataru Taru. So do be a good boy and find a conscience, before it’s your coffers sinking into the sea.”

If she held any worry that the man would see through her fabrication, it was instantly wiped away. If it was a rare sight to see a comparatively small miqo’te woman tower over a burly roegadyn man, then it was a treat for the eyes who all saw him quiver in fear before her calm, yet brutally condescending, smile.

“You- I… Bah!” He turned and coughed, seemingly trying to regain some semblance of composure and authority. He stormed past her to address his crew, and she couldn’t hide her victorious smirk as he passed. “Men, I do believe it be our moral duty as upstanding pirates of ol’ Limsa, the Admiral’s finest, to see these souls delivered from the Locker! Bring her about!”

“Indeed, your… heroism is duly noted,” Y’shtola got in one final scathing bite before looking around at the suddenly frantic movements of the crew, with no small measure of satisfaction.

As her attention turned towards the sinking ship, Twilight too saw the unexpected change in course, her mood immediately brightening at the sight. Whatever could have changed the Captain’s mind, she could only wonder. And yet, that wondering came with the images of a very angry set of cat-like eyes that had tunnelled into her more often than not since her arrival in Eorzea, so little more explanation was really necessary.

Twilight gave a—somewhat humiliating, she had to inwardly note—dog-like yip towards the increasingly resigned passengers, several of whom looked toward the curious carbuncle before their eyes turned to the ship that was rapidly changing course.

“Oh, praise the Twelve,” said the elezen man from before. “The blighters are actually turning around!”

“We’re saved!” another rang.

“Death to those sahagin bastards!” another sang.

Twilight glanced at the latter, a huma- hyur, man cheering at the sight of the incoming ship. That was a name she didn’t recognize. Who exactly were the sahagin?

She shook those thoughts aside for a moment, looking towards the stricken passengers and approaching to see to their health. Though, being a carbuncle, there was little she found she could do, her presence in itself did seem to provide some comfort to the passengers, especially some of the younger ones, so that in itself was worth the effort.

Eventually, the other ship drew in close enough that shouts could be heard, shortly followed thereafter by thrown ropes that the passengers and crew of the sinking vessel quickly tied down as they prepared to receive their salvation.

As the two were drawn together, and most prepared to jump from the doomed ship, among the scant view to embark onto it was Y’shtola herself. She strode towards Twilight, her eyebrow raised quite deliberately.

“That was an exceedingly reckless move and could have easily resulted in harm to yourself. You do realize this, yes?”

Twilight sagged, not having been quite ready to receive her condemnation again…

And yet, her eyebrow did give way to a smile. “But, on this occasion, it did provide the opportunity required to see succour delivered to these people. Well done.”

She perked up immediately, though did try to restrain herself from standing up too tall in case the reckless element returned for another lecturer. Was this how Spike usually felt? Nah, he liked her lectures... probably.

As the two stood on the sloped deck, they each gazed at the passengers who were rapidly evacuated onto the second ship, most carrying little more than the garments on their backs. With the immediate danger all but over, the few remaining crew doing a final sweep to ensure everyone was accounted for, Twilight let her thoughts return to the name she’d heard a moment ago.

“Y’shtola…?” Twilight called out, keeping her voice relatively quiet. “What’s a sahagin…? One of those people mentioned them, I think they might’ve been a part of whatever caused the ship to sink.”

The woman hummed, glancing out over the sea. “A likely scenario, and an unfortunately common one with an increasing rate of occurrence.”

“Who are they?” she repeated.

Y’shtola glanced down toward the horizon with a grimace. “...To summarize them in brief, the sahagin are one of the two beast tribes that Limsa Lominsa is forced to contend with regularly. They are fish-like people who live primarily beneath the waves, though they often come ashore for the sake of reproducing. They worship Leviathan, the Lord of the Whorl, a sea serpent of nigh-on incomprehensible size.”

Twilight frowned in thought at that. Sea serpent? That brought to mind images of a peculiarly eccentric individual from her own world, a large being in his own right. Somehow, though, she doubted Leviathan would be quelled with a small act of generosity…

“They have often been in conflict with Limsa for nearly as long as any can remember. They are feared by sailors for their ability to drag the unprepared into the depths to a watery end with the skill and efficiency of a trained assassin. Efforts to make peace with them have all ended in unanimous failure… for the list of perceived wrongs on both sides of the conflict has led to constant reprisals and acts of retaliation.”

A low groan sounded from somewhere nearby on the sinking ship, and Y’shtola frowned. “More details can wait. For now, we should lend what aid we can to those in need. Doubtless, there will be wounded.”

Twilight watched her go, her frown remaining. Wrongs on both sides? Acts of retaliation? The way she spoke of them, her tone of voice betraying her clear dismay, seemed different from how they had spoken of Ifrit and the Amalj’aa. What exactly had these ‘pirates’ done? What kept a friendship between these peoples so far at bay…?

The Princess of Friendship, her heart burning for the unrealistic desire to heal the rifts of this world, found herself looking out over the sea once again in an act of melancholy.

And there, towards the horizon, she could have sworn she saw something. Two eyes, a scaly head upon which was adorned a single fin, stared at her out of the water. It lingered for but a moment before sinking beneath the waves and out of sight, as if it had never been there at all.

Sahagin…

If there was something she could do while she was here, then she had to. She needed to do something good… That man’s death couldn’t be her only legacy in this place.

It just… couldn’t…

Author's Note

Our last update of 2021, and a bit more pony in our crossover besides. Poor Twilight...

13 - Navigator's Glory

“Among the churning waves of the Rhotano sea, the old island of Vylbrand stood, with the city of Limsa Lominsa rising tall and proud along its southern shores. A bastion of ‘civilization,’ beset on all sides by hostility, resentment, and age-old grudges no one was willing to put down in place of friendship.”

Twilight’s eyes studied the imposing sight of Limsa Lominsa in the distance. She had harboured many expectations about the waterborne city of pirates, but the staggering beauty of it was not one of them. It was like an army of towers carved from the pearly white stones of the coastline, connected together via sturdy bridges and lengths of rope that made it all look almost like one massive ship.

A fitting descriptor, she was led to believe. According to Y’shtola’s curt explanations of the nation’s long and bloody history, the people of Limsa Lominsa considered themselves to all be part of one big crew, and that the whole of Vylbrand was their ship.

If only it weren’t a pirate ship.

She was sitting on the railing at the bow of the ship, feeling the salty winds wash over her glamoured body. Y’shtola stood a few feet behind her, eyeing the city with an unreadable expression. The two hadn’t spoken much since the unexpected encounter with the sinking vessel, as much of their time had been spent bringing aid to the wounded.

Things had only recently quieted down, with those wounded that could be saved recovering below decks while the crew brought the ship into port as quickly as possible. The Captain from before had helped save the poor souls, but that didn’t mean he wanted them on his ship any longer than was necessary; a fact he made sure everyone knew at every turn.

After a few moments of silence, Y’shtola’s eyes focused on Twilight. “I know I have said this before, but given where we are bound, it bears repeating: once we are within the city, you are to stick close to my side, and not speak. Follow diligently until we reach the Admiral’s office. While others may wave off your capability for speech, carbuncles are far more commonplace in Limsa than in the other city-states due to the presence of the Arcanist’s Guild. As such, the people of Limsa Lominsa will be aware that it is not the norm for a carbuncle to speak.”

Twilight frowned, turning back to Y’shtola. “The Arcanist’s Guild?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. They tend to several bureaucratic matters, but also aid what counts as law enforcement for Limsa in investigations, routine inspections, and other such activities.”

Twilight hummed, her thoughts wandering briefly to her own arcanist spellbook. Maybe it would be prudent to stop in at this Guild and see if she could learn anything more about the discipline?

Y’shtola, as if sensing the train of thought, put on a smile. “I know that look. Rest assured, should there be sufficient time, we may stop in at the guild for a time. A primer from the creators of the art would serve you better than the purely theoretical experience Mhitra could provide.”

Twilight relaxed a little at the light tone in Y’shtola’s voice.

Before the two could say anything else, a voice bellowed from somewhere near the heart of the ship. “We’ll be pulling into port any moment now! Get your things and prepare to disembark!”

Y’shtola turned away from Limsa. “Come. We’ve not the time to waste.”

Twilight watched Y’shtola march away to disembark, then briefly turned back to the city, her ears drooping.

“Sahagin from the seas. Kobolds from the crags. Pirates from within. A jewel of spilled blood surrounded by beautiful cerulean and verdant green. Held together only by the iron will of one woman at the wheel…”

Her eyes traced the shape of the tallest of the city’s majestic towers. It was almost intimidating in scale, making her feel even smaller than normal.

“I could only hope that I wouldn’t add any more blood to that tapestry. I’d spilt enough already…”

Without another word, Twilight hopped from the railing and scampered after Y’shtola, ready to set foot in the city of pirates.

Twilight followed on after Y’shtola dutifully and silently, both being mutually exclusive concepts for the time being. For the most part, the people of the city didn’t seem to pay either of them any mind, and it was little wonder why when she spied more than a few ‘other’ carbuncles following their masters quite happily.

She didn’t like the thought of being seen as anybody’s pet, but it was certainly a good way to remain inconspicuous…

From the docks they marched their way through several long strips filled with various merchants peddling their wares as peoples of all kinds were more than happy to throw coin at whatever took their fancy; Lalafell, Hyur, and the other races she’d come to expect from this land. Surprisingly, she even saw individuals from other species likewise conducting trade. There was a couple that seemed almost rat-like in appearance, while another individual was a diminutive fellow whose head appeared to be fully enclosed in a gas mask of some kind, enthusiastically going on about something to do with ‘gobbie booms.’

The most unexpected thing was a solitary figure that, based on the brief glimpse afforded to her on the ride over, appeared to be sahagin. There were other figures incredibly similar as well, whom she briefly mistook for more of the seafaring race, but upon getting closer she realized they were something else entirely. Unless some sahagin simply had large horns on their heads in a similar case to that between unicorns and other such ponies.

Whatever the case was, it did her heart some small good to see friendly trade existed in any form between their peoples. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she’d been led to believe…?

And yet, a small and recently agitated, pessimistic part of her brain noted that it was likely an exception rather than the rule…

The markets eventually gave way to a large aetheryte plaza, not unlike the one she’d witnessed in Gridania, though absolutely packed to the point of bursting. If there was a heart to the city, she was clearly looking at it. There were bards playing instruments and regaling adoring crowds with merry tunes, dancers in… questionable outfits demonstrating their skills, and a whole manner of other curiosities to study.

She did have to wonder why there were so many maids…

Y’shtola, for her part, seemed content to ignore any distractions and instead moved past the giant crystal and into an interior space guarded by several stern-faced individuals in yellow jackets. One of the guards was standing by, if Twilight wasn’t mistaken, an elevator leading further up into the structure.

“Archon Y’shtola,” the man greeted with professional familiarity. “I am to understand the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have continued business with the Admiral?”

“So the missive was received. Good,” the miqo’te responded. “I trust there is little change since my departure to Thanalan.”

“I’m just here to guard the elevator.”

“Ever a pressing matter, truly. But yet, if she is free, I would appreciate an audience.”

“Aye, you are expected. Go on up.”

She gave the man a nod and gestured for Twilight to follow her as the elevator doors parted. As they made their way within, the man finally seemed to take notice of the lavender carbuncle with a frown.

“I hope your beast won’t cause any trouble. I didn’t take you for an arcanist at that…”

“As you said, you guard doors, I suggest sticking to your skills,” she tersely retorted as the elevator doors closed, getting a displeased glare but no further comments. The elevator began to move upwards, giving the two a brief time alone.

Twilight stood awkwardly next to the woman, absentmindedly tapping a paw.

“...That was a little… mean.”

Y’shtola sighed. “I apologize if I am coming across as… tense at present, but I have spent much time among the peoples here, and I know enough to remain guarded in their presence. Especially when I have something to hide.”

“I hope I’m not making things harder…”

“Oh, you undoubtedly are. But at least you will make things more interesting.”

The disguised mare wasn’t sure how to take that statement…

“Now hush, I do believe our journey is concluded.”

The doors parted, moving aside to reveal a large stone chamber adorned with windows allowing the sun’s rays to brightly illuminate the interior space, the walls between decorated with red banners depicting a ship with a draconic figurehead. At the far end was a staircase on either side of a platform that further led to a large set of double doors that, if Twilight was a betting pony, she would guess led into the Admiral’s office.

Y’shtola moved out of the elevator, striding for those doors as Twilight followed on once again. The guards outside saw them coming, these ones in a dark red uniform, and gave brief nods before admitting them into the adjoining room.

Within was a sizable chamber, a red carpet leading from the door to a large wooden desk with iron fittings keeping it bolted to the ground. Behind that was a curved window overlooking the sea, a great expanse of blue with not a speck of land in sight, just the gentle swaying of the ocean.

And there, looking out over her dominion, was a white-skinned roegadyn woman in a heavy black coat with two flintlock pistols holstered at her hips. Another man of the same species stood at her side, his outfit signifying him as being someone of significant rank in the city’s local forces. He was the first to notice their entrance, turning to regard them with a stroke of his misty white beard.

“Admiral, it appears visitors have come aboard.”

“One who is oft a passenger of our great vessel, one should think,” the Admiral replied in turn, though still looking out across the sea. “The Scions are ever welcome in our halls, not that you were gone from our deck for long, Archon.”

“My duties bade me return to our headquarters, as it now would have me resume my work here,” Y’shtola responded. “Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, I do believe we have matters to discuss.”

“Indeed? Then, by all means, my ear is yours.” Finally, Merlwyb turned around to regard the woman with an expectant glint in her silvery eyes. “Out with it, I would know your purpose today.”

Y’shtola nodded. “As you may be able to guess, my concerns are, as ever, centred on the conflict between Limsa Lominsa and the beast tribes that are her neighbours. Yet ere I would discuss such matters, there is a smaller point that must needs be addressed.”

Twilight almost jumped in her skin when Y’shtola looked down at her. She tilted her head curiously but didn’t say a word.

Merlwyb quirked an eyebrow. “I was curious about that. Since when had you taken up the art of arcanism?”

Y’shtola shook her head. “I have not. Twilight, if you would dispel the glamour?”

Merlwyb’s expression hardened in scrutiny. She folded her arms over her chest. “Glamour?”

This time, Twilight did jump. She looked back and forth between Merlwyb and Y’shtola, confused. Wasn’t she supposed to keep her true form hidden?

“Worry not. The Admiral is a trusted ally, and I would rather not keep secrets from her,” Y’shtola clarified with a comforting smile.

Oh. Well, that explained things. Twilight took a moment to gather her thoughts. Then, with a thought and a brief channelling of magic, the glowing form of the lavender carbuncle vanished in a poof of swirling smoke. When it parted, Twilight the alicorn had returned to the world.

Naturally, Merlwyb was surprised. She blinked, eyes wide. “Curious. Would you care to explain?”

“First, introductions,” Y’shtola urged, keeping her eyes on Twilight.

Twilight held her head high, though she couldn’t bring herself to meet the admiral’s gaze. There was a palpable aura around the towering woman, and it was intimidating. Just from the calmness of her voice and the easy readiness of her stance, Twilight could sense that this was not a woman to be taken lightly.

“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she finally introduced. “I’m an… associate of the Scions.”

“I have not heard of you, nor of anything like you,” Merlwyb noted thoughtfully.

“She is only recently arrived in Eorzea, and is accompanying me by my request,” Y’shtola stated, finally turning back to the Admiral. “Thus far she has given me no cause to doubt her motives.”

Merlwyb frowned. “Mayhap that is true for you,” she said slowly before turning to Twilight. “I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, admiral of the Maelstrom and Limsa Lominsa. If Y’shtola trusts you, I shall trust in her judgment. But be that as it may, I’d rather not have unknown elements ambling about my city. Explain yourself.”

Twilight flinched from the blunt tone of the Admiral’s voice. She held her ground, though, keeping her head up. “I’m a Princess of Equestria,” she reminded herself. “And I am talking to the leader of another nation. I have to conduct myself appropriately.”

With another deep breath, she was finally able to meet Merlwyb’s gaze, and launched into her story. Merlwyb listened intently, only ever speaking up to ask for clarification on certain matters. Twilight wasn’t sure how much to speak of, or what to hold close to her chest, so for the time being she chose to keep the fact she was from a different world off the table, settling instead to say she was from a land far away. She still placed emphasis on the importance of her Element of Harmony, and of her alliance with the Scions in the hopes of retrieving it.

When she was done, silence fell over the room. Merlwyb considered the story for a moment, her eyes closed and her arms crossed over her chest. The taller man beside her remained quiet, hands behind his back and his expression unreadable.

After a few seconds, Merlwyb nodded, opening her eyes. “Your story is remarkable, Miss Sparkle. I have sailed across the length and breadth of Hydaelyn’s oceans, yet never once have I heard tell of this distant home of yours. But, as I said, if Y’shtola trusts you, then I trust her.”

Twilight breathed a small sigh of relief.

Merlwyb turned back to Y’shtola. “That being said, I doubt that you travelled all this way merely to introduce me to your new comrade.”

Y’shtola’s expression darkened. “You would be correct. As always, I am here to lend what aid I can in the conflict with the beast tribes. Has aught changed in my absence?”

Merlwyb sighed, shaking her head as her eyes drifted down to her table. “Not so much with the kobolds. Rumours have spread of movement near their mines, but nothing that can be substantiated at present. Of more immediate concern is the recent string of raids from the sahagin.”

Twilight perked up at that. “We saw some of that coming in. Our ship passed by another that had been raided.”

Merlwyb grimaced. “I see… Damned fishbacks.”

Y’shtola’s frown deepened. “Do you know aught of what has caused these attacks, or of which faction is perpetrating them?”

“Nay, nothing of the sort, save that this group is not particularly large. Their attacks have relied heavily upon stealth and surprise by all accounts, with only a handful of sahagin present for each raid.”

“They have been preying on lone vessels, particularly the smaller ones,” the taller man explained, his voice old but wizened. “We suspect this group lacks the numbers for much more than that.”

“Nevertheless, ‘tis a troublesome nuisance bringing harm to my people. I would see it brought to an end as soon as possible,” Merlwyb stated, her hand curling into a fist at the mentioning of the sahagin’s victims.

Twilight looked down, her thoughts swirling. There was presently no known reason for the attacks, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The sahagin must have had a good reason for lashing out like this. Some perceived slight or a grudge held over a past wrong, obviously. From what little Twilight knew of Limsa’s history, it was the only explanation that made any sense.

But she also knew that the odds of this conflict being resolved peacefully were slim to none. At least by the powers that be…

That being said…

She looked up at the admiral, her jaw set. When she spoke, she kept her voice level and professional. “Have you tried to open a dialogue with these sahagin?”

“Not as of yet,” Merlwyb said with a grimace. “There have been other concerns on-shore as of late that have drawn our attention. The kobold’s movements being one, along with a recent span of kidnappings centred around Sastasha.”

Twilight briefly glanced back to Y’shtola. “Then… maybe you would allow me to volunteer to speak with them?”

Merlwyb’s eyes latched onto Twilight, narrowing with scrutiny. “Come again?”

Twilight flinched under that gaze, but pressed on. “I… Where I’m from, I’ve been embroiled in politics for a while—though, I admit, nothing quite like this. Still, as I am a neutral third party, maybe these Sahagian would be more open to holding a dialogue with me? They have no grudges against me, after all. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can even convince them to stop the attacks and try to find common ground with you?”

Merlwyb closed her eyes for several long moments. When she spoke, there was a fond sort of longing in her voice. “If only it were so easy. Believe me, Miss Sparkle, when I say that I wish it were possible to put a permanent end to this meaningless bloodshed without firing another shot. But alas, ‘tis not so. The hatreds between our peoples, however unjustified, run deep as the sea itself. One cannot simply sit across the table from their enemy of centuries with tea and crumpets and bring such a long-lived conflict to an end so simply.”

If the Admiral’s statement was enough to discourage Twilight, then Y’shtola’s follow-up was enough to outright demoralize her. “There is also the matter of tempering. Many sahagin leaders have long been under Leviathan’s thrall. Such individuals cannot be reasoned with, no matter how fervent or earnest the supplications. Their will is bound by the Lord of the Whorl, and they will be compelled beyond their own will to draw others into the fold, no matter what.”

Twilight turned to Y’shtola, her ears drooping. “Are things really that bad?” she asked. Her mind wandered back to those poor souls who had been tempered by Ifrit, made into his loyal slaves in a stream of blue fire. If all of the Sahagin were like that, then…

Suddenly, a memory came to her, of her brief time in the Waking Sands, when Thancred had returned.

“Sorry I’m late, but I did say I would be right behind you.”

“Thancred, that’s fine,” Twilight replied, somewhat relieved by the arrival of a face she knew to be friendly. “Did you help those soldiers we were with?”

“Uh… They… are no longer afflicted…”

Twilight’s ears perked up, her eyes lighting up with hope. “But isn’t there a way to cure the Tempering?” she asked, her wings ruffling against her sides. “Those soldiers Ifrit tempered. Thancred told us they weren’t afflicted anymore when he joined us in the Waking Sands, remember?”

The silence that followed was damning. The hope Twilight felt sputtered and died almost instantly. Y’shtola looked down at her with a regretful frown, while Merlwyb’s brow had furrowed with stern dismay.

“...Has there been some new discovery made that you did not see fit to share with me, Y’shtola?” the admiral asked.

Y’shtola was quiet for a moment. She turned away from Twilight, her eyes hidden by her hair. Slowly, she shook her head. “Nay, admiral… The matter of the tempered remains as it ever has.”

Twilight looked back and forth between them, confused and concerned. She took a tentative step toward Y’shtola. “Y’shtola? What’s going on? …What aren’t you telling me?”

Y’shtola didn’t look at her.

Merlwyb closed her eyes for a moment. “...Those men and women who have been tempered by a Primal are tempered for life. For such victims, there is no cure… save a swift and painless execution.”

Twilight gasped, taking a step back. Her eyes flew wide, her ears drooping. It felt as if a sack of bricks had just been slammed into her chest. Her mind wandered again to the tempered flame soldiers. She recalled the fear in their voices as some begged for mercy, she remembered the despair in the eyes of the sergeant, and his resignation as the flames washed over them.

A horrible sense of realization fell over her, and her knees almost buckled beneath her. All of those people are dead now?

“But… but Thancred said…” she stammered in denial, shaking her head. But she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Thancred himself had sounded distressed when he delivered the news, she recalled. And now she knew why.

Y’shtola spoke up a moment later. “I suspect he spoke as he did to spare your feelings. But his good intent has served to mislead you. On his behalf, I apologize…”

Twilight stared down at the floor, her eyes wide and unfocused. Slavery answered with death? Was that truly the only recourse these people had? It was wrong. It made her sick to her stomach even thinking about it. Those soldiers had done nothing wrong! They didn’t deserve to die like that! She fell to her haunches, screwing her eyes shut.

A moment later, Y’shtola sighed before turning back to the admiral. “Forgive me, but I fear it may be for the best if we cut this meeting short.”

Merlwyb sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “Very well. Though I harbour no hopes of a peaceful resolution, I will still make an effort to open a dialogue with this sahagin faction regardless. With luck, we may at least learn why they have taken to attacking us. Can I count on you to be present for this discussion?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. I would insist on coming had you not asked.”

Merlwyb relaxed before falling back into her chair. “Good. Now go. I believe your new friend needs some privacy,” she said before turning to the tall roegadyn at her side. “Have rooms prepared for them in the aftcastle.”

“Right away,” the towering man gave his admiral a sharp salute before stepping past Y’shtola and Twilight, his heavy footfalls making the floor tremble just slightly as he passed.

Y’shtola knelt down by Twilight’s side, placing a hand on her back. “Twilight?”

Twilight did not answer. She barely even noticed the gesture. Her eyes were still unfocused. She saw the soldiers being tempered over and over again in her mind. Grotesque images of guillotines and executioner’s blades began to filter into her mind, and she shuddered in revulsion and dismay.

She barely even noticed as Y’shtola guided her out of the room, and only had enough presence of mind to restore her glamour as they left the admiral’s office and descended back into the city.

Compared to the inn rooms of the Carline Canopy, those provided by the Drowning Wench were far more cobbled together. Splintering timber that evoked the cabin of a sailboat with decor to match. It definitely made for a more… ‘tailored’ experience, one that many a visitor might call uncomfortable. But for the residents of Limsa Lominsa, such surroundings were probably expected, if not favoured, by the general populace.

But that was of little consequence to the despondent alicorn in the room, pacing around as if lost in the winding streets of Ul’dah. In this case, it was her mind she was wandering in, with her guardian all but helpless to stop it.

“It’s all just… lies and death and… more lies!” she shouted, placing a hoof on her temple in some vague attempt to keep her mental gymnastics from bursting through her skull. “Those people, those good people, all gone!? After Ifrit… They just…!?”

“Twilight, you must calm down,” Y’shtola said gently, yet with an unmistakably stern edge. “These walls are not so thick.”

“Oh-ho, afraid of everyone hearing truths,” she accused aimlessly. “Let them hear, let everyone hear how we’ve failed to save everyone and only left death everywhere I’ve been since coming to this place! Whether Ifrit or the garleans-”

“None of which you hold the blame for,” Y’shtola rebuked. “Forgive us for giving you a false impression, but this was what Thancred wished to spare you. As tragic a truth as it is, until the day a cure might be found, it is a necessity.”

“I’m sure they are all so glad to hear that! That their own friends executed them instead of, of… Gah! I don’t know! Don’t you have a concept of hospitals? Psych wards? Dear Celestia, even a prison would have been better! Anything but… that…!”

The miqo’te gave a tired sigh. “All such methods have seen attempts in the past. But so long as the tempered live, their reverence of the primals drives them to act against their fellow man, and the aether that twists their souls will, in time, twist even their mortal flesh. And as you know, the faith of the tempered will further empower the Primals who enthralled them. This leads to but more tempered and further tragedy. It was a hard lesson to learn, but we have learned it.”

Twilight stopped, her head drooping as she brought in a long, laboured breath before releasing it into the stale air. Her body shook, her wings sagged at her sides and tears stained the fur on her cheeks.

She simply couldn’t accept it. That this world was so broken, that it couldn’t be fixed. If she just had her magic, her friends, Celestia’s much-needed advice… If she just knew what to do… She was supposed to know what to do…!

“How could this happen…?”

Y’shtola slowly sat down at the end of the bed, giving Twilight a long but sympathetic stare. “Understanding the primals is one of our primary objectives, alongside opposing the ascians that spur their summoning. Those that stole your crystal have toyed with the peoples of this realm for time beyond our records. And yet, even after all that time, and all they have done, we understand all too little about our foe.”

“It’s not just them though, is it…?”

“Oh?”

“I saw it in the Admiral’s eyes…” she whispered. “When she spoke about the sahagin, even when she decided to let us talk to them… She didn’t really want you to. She doesn’t think it could ever work, she doesn’t want to even try! She expects us to fail and come slinking back so she can start shooting again!”

“Twilight, the Admiral is a strong leader, but a complicated one. Her priority is to lead her people through whatever storm comes their way, and she does so admirably.”

“And where do those people outside come in? The ones they call beasts like they’re just animals!”

“...Often, they don’t. Many Lominsans fear the sahagin and kobolds, and would sooner see them ejected from the island even should an olive branch be extended.”

“But that’s wrong!”

“I know.”

A silence fell over the pair, the alicorn steadily letting the woman’s words sink in. She turned to finally face her, drying her tears and meeting her gaze.

“...You actually agree with me?”

“You truly thought I wouldn’t? I know the flaws of the Admiral and her crew all too well,” Y’shtola noted with a frown. “She means well, but fear and suspicion run rampant. And where once a period of peace seemed plausible after tireless work, it was the pirates of Limsa Lominsa who shattered it when they stole land and resources from the kobolds.”

“...But why? When things are so bad because of the fighting, why would they do that…?”

“As I said, fear. Atop a greed all too familiar to man,” she sadly explained. “All too often I feel the world around me is but a basket of screaming, tantruming children, and I the mother whose guiding words fall upon deaf ears.”

At that, Twilight couldn’t help but let loose a small giggle.

“...Did I say something amusing?”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Twilight chuckled despite herself. “You just… I can really see you as a mother. A really stern, grumpy one. You give that vibe a lot.”

“With cheek like that, I am like to send you to bed without your supper,” Y’shtola snarked in turn. “But I will endeavour to take it as a compliment, despite the unending frustration.”

Twilight’s newfound smile fell a little, a small sigh escaping through her lips.

“Do you really think it’s hopeless? Then aren’t we just helping these people keep fighting and killing?”

“As wronged as the beast tribes have been, we cannot leave the innocents living here to the mercy of the primals taking advantage of all our suffering. Their gods care not for their plights, just the aether they can gorge themselves upon.”

“I guess if those sahagin and kobolds are all tempered now, there’s not really much of a choice for anyone anymore…”

“Not for those poor souls, no. But there is some hope, I do believe that,” Y’shtola told her. “Not every member of their respective races have fallen prey to such a fate. There are sahagin clans who wisely steer clear of Leviathan’s influence, and there are hundreds of kobold orders, too many for Titan to claim in their entirety.”

“If some know the primals are bad, then couldn’t we talk with them…?”

“When we approach the sahagin, the hope is we will encounter such. The tempered are beyond reasoning, but others may be amenable to words spoken in earnest. Alas, even those unaffected by their gods hold deep hatreds for lominsans, a mutual sentiment. Our mission now may bring about a lull in hostility, but it will not stop it.”

“What would it take?”

“The total defeat of the primals, through methods yet unknown to us,” she replied. “And a way of bridging the gap between our peoples after the fact. Only achievable, I fear, by either great societal change for us all, or perhaps a common foe far greater than that of even Garlemald. At least as they now stand.”

“There’s so much hatred here… I mean, I know from experience it’s not easy to get along with everybody… Back home, there are people called the changelings. They attacked us, and we haven’t been able to make any kind of peace since that day. It’s not quite like this, so widespread, but still, I believe we might one day change that.”

“As is the mission of the Scions, even should the process take far beyond my lifetime,” Y’shtola stated. “But despite her flaws, of which she is aware she possesses, I do believe the Admiral would do the right thing if things fell into place. History has taught much, and she alone has the power to sway the great ship that is Limsa Lominsa. All we can do is ensure the day comes for her to make that choice.”

“I guess so…”

“Despite my misgivings, I do retain hope. And so must you. For a kinship with your ‘changelings,’ and for all peoples of La Noscea to come together as a single crew to man this ship.”

“I hope so. I’m… sorry I shouted.”

“Tis no matter, we should not have hidden the truth,” Y’shtola apologized once more. “Now, if we wish to make even the smallest dent in these-”

“Friendship problems?”

Y’shtola gave her a curious smirk. “...Ahem, indeed, ‘friendship problems’, then we must be at our best come the morrow. In that regard, let us work on your magic. Further attunements to the aetherial currents of the realm might also be prudent, lest you wish your wings to remain but ornamental.”

“Aheh, I think flight would be good…” She did NOT fancy a repeat of her near-plunge into the ocean… “And I think my magic is getting easier. I’m hoping with a little more practice I might be able to adjust my usual spellcraft.”

“I would be curious to see it,” Y’shtola responded. “I can only imagine how different your applications must be.”

“Oh, I could write you a whole essay or twenty-six on it! Transfiguration, teleportation, conjuration…”

“Let us keep to the tome for now,” the miqo’te suggested with an amused smile. “You know the usage of ruin, but I feel as though you would benefit from more supportive spellcraft.”

Twilight nodded, recalling a crucial moment in the battle with Ifrit where she, somehow, managed to call forth some small amount of healing magics upon a certain adventurer friend of theirs…

“I think so. What was it called… physick?”

“You would be correct. Are you ready to begin?”

Twilight gave her a genuinely excited smile. “Trust me, when it comes to learning new things, I am all over it every step of the way!”

“Then let us begin…”

14 - Tempered Zeal

Twilight watched the hills and plains of La Noscea roll by from her place in the back of the chocobo carriage. The sun overhead was pleasantly warm, and the gentle bobbing of the suspended cart helped soothe the disguised alicorn’s trembling nerves. A salty wind blew by every now and then, sending blades of emerald grass and leaves dancing across the meadows.

The morning after their meeting with the Admiral, Twilight and Y’shtola met with Merlwyb again to discuss the forthcoming meeting with the sahagin. Apparently, during the night, a widespread effort had been made to pin down exactly where this small sahagin group was located. How the people under Merlwyb’s command had been able to orchestrate such a broad effort in such a short span of time was beyond her, until Y’shtola reminded her of the capabilities of linkpearls.

It was just such a shame the small magical wonders wouldn’t fit in Twilight’s ear…

After a full night of cooperation between the Yellow Jackets, Maelstrom scouts, and even individuals referred to as the Rogue’s Guild, the clan was successfully located. After that, Twilight and Y’shtola were loaded into the back of an armoured chocobo carriage. Twilight had marvelled over it when she first saw it.

She had seen chocobos before, of course, but the carriage they were lugging along was new. There were no wheels to keep the carriage off the ground. Instead, it drifted a foot or so off the ground, suspended by thick yellow balloons filled with some manner of gas. Y’shtola had referred to it as ‘ceruleum.’ Whatever the case, the carriage’s suspension made it remarkably easy for the chocobos to pull it along, and it made roadside accidents all but impossible.

Twilight had wanted to ask how the carriage didn’t just float away but had to keep her mouth shut in her Carbuncle form, much to her frustration.

The carriage was but one in a small caravan meant to bear them to a fortress on the edge of the Sapsa Spawning Grounds. The fortress apparently served to keep an eye on two walls that kept the spawning grounds walled off from the rest of La Noscea, serving both to define the border and serve as the first line of defence in the event of Sahagin hostilities.

They had set off yesterday, affording Twilight plenty of time to go over what little she knew of the clan they were apparently to meet with. Reports had been fed to the caravan’s leader by linkpearl the whole way, and that info had trickled back to everyone else.

The clan didn’t seem to have a name, and the markings on their weapons and shields were inconsistent. Furthermore, they were few in number. Scouts claimed to have only seen around twenty or so mingling in their home base. They had apparently huddled themselves in an isolated corner of the spawning grounds by the water's edge, largely walled off from everything else by towering walls of barnacled rock and coral growths.

All of that was useful tactical information, to be sure, but Twilight was not here to do battle; they were here to talk. Ideally, tactical information wouldn’t be needed. What she wanted to know was the mindset of the sahagin clan. Who was their leader? Why were they on the offensive? What were their traditions, values, et cetera?

…Were they tempered?

With those troubling thoughts rolling around her presently-canine head, she almost missed them coming up on the very fortress she’d been hearing about. She wasn’t sure whether ‘fortress’ was really the right word to describe it, upon seeing it for herself. It more resembled a small castle: grey stone walls surrounding an inner structure that seemed to be largely boxy and hardly built for aesthetics, with a single tower providing ample space for their garrison’s lookouts. There was also a smaller tower disconnected from the central building, built into the surrounding wall, though she couldn’t spy anyone manning it at the present moment.

As the line of carriages approached the fortification—Camp Skull Valley as it was actually called—the gates opened wide in clear expectancy of their arrival. As they passed into the safety of the walls, Y’shtola looked down at Twilight and quietly addressed her.

“Our stop here shall be brief. Once the Maelstrom have gathered their wits, we shall make for one of the nearby gates into sahagin territory.”

“What’s it like?” Twilight asked in turn. “The Spawning Grounds, I mean. I can’t really see anything with all these walls in the way.”

“That is half the point, at least from the other side,” Y’shtola pointed out. “Alas, the region beyond this point isn’t what you or I would consider homely. The greenery you see around you has long since perished on the other side of those gates.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“Leviathan,” she responded with a glare of steel. “After a previous summoning, he let loose a torrent of water upon the shore. It swept away all in its path, be it man or foliage, leaving nought but barren dirt remaining. The tempered thusly claimed the land as their own, followed by their non-tempered brethren shortly thereafter.”

“But… surely the land recovered?”

“If you consider seaweed and coral growths recovering, then perhaps. It serves the sahagin just fine. The land closest to the wall has various sea plants placed there by the sahagin themselves, harmless by all accounts, even if those of the land wouldn’t find much comfort in it. The farther out you get, however, the primal’s influence becomes more pronounced. The landscape is increasingly warped in a way befitting the Lord of the Whorl, caused by his feasting upon the land’s aether.”

Y’shtola paused as the carriage finally came to a stop, steadily clambering out of it and only speaking again as she moved to help her ‘carbuncle’ do the same.

“But with Leviathan presently absent, the land yet lives, despite its warped state. It is a home for the Sahagin now and has been for many a year. But if the tempered have their way, eventually Leviathan will consume it all, and leave nothing in his wake. The warped landscape that exists now wouldn’t even exist. It would be truly barren, and truly dead.”

“The others, the ones who escaped him, they know that, right? It’s in everyone’s interest to help stop that from happening!”

“That is the hope today. Alas, we must find this clan first and ascertain their nature. If their minds are yet their own, hope does remain.”

Twilight nodded, acting the dutiful familiar as she followed Y’shtola into the fort while she undertook whatever formalities were required to get them across the border. The miqo’te spoke to various uniformed individuals, signed a parchment or two, and before long permission was granted and the Sapsa Spawning Grounds was theirs for the exploring.

If its residents were to allow it, that is…

Before long, the group had assembled in front of the southern tide gate, an imposing structure of blackened iron set into yet another wall of white stone. It was smeared in places with old dirt, mud, and decaying bits of plant matter that had been lashed against it by powerful island winds. A small camp was set up to the sides of the gate, where yet more Maelstrom soldiers were going about their work.

The Commander, a well-built hyur man with slicked-back black hair and a pointed moustache and beard, turned to face the rest of them. Twilight took note of the imposing halberd strapped to his back. “Alright, as per the admiral’s orders, this is a peace mission. The fine folk at the fort sent an envoy ahead of our arrival to arrange a meeting near the tide gate, on the sahagin’s side. We aren’t here to kickstart another bloody war, so I had best see all of your weapons in their sheathes.”

He pointed at Y’shtola. “Further, given that this was your idea, the Admiral’s seen fit to put you in the forefront of the coming negotiation. I’ll be speakin’ with you to make sure you don’t overstep any of Limsa’s boundaries.”

Y’shtola frowned. “Understood.”

The commander nodded before going on to deliver instructions to the remainder of his troops. Most of the military jargon flew over Twilight’s head, so she took the opportunity to look up at Y’shtola. “What do you want me to do?”

Y’shtola glanced down at her. “It will be a tense discussion, of that there can be no question. While the commander and I are handling negotiations, I would have you keep your eyes on our surroundings. Disguised as a carbuncle as you are, I suspect few will pay your wandering eyes any mind. Should you spy signs of trouble, alert me immediately.”

Twilight frowned. She wanted to protest being made to keep quiet but bit her tongue before she could say anything. This was uncharted territory for her in more than one way, she remembered.

“It’s best to let her take the lead,” she told herself, taking a deep breath. “It’ll be a learning experience… so long as everything goes well.”

“Alright! We’re moving out! Open the gates!” the commander bellowed up to the wall. A moment passed before the great wall of iron began to rise. The air practically vibrated with the scraping of steel, the clattering of massive gears and chains, and the grinding of stone. As the gate lifted, Twilight’s eyes were met by a sight that took her breath away.

It was just as Y’shtola had said. For miles beyond the gate, the muddy, stone-speckled ground was waterlogged and played host to a stunted forest of growths that wouldn’t look out of place in a coral reef off of one of Equestria’s tropical coastlines. Many of the growths emitted gentle light, and she could see fireflies darting from one to the next, their bodies alight with golds and greens. The growths became increasingly dense the father from the gates she looked until they piled up along a natural cliff of stone that walled in this entire region. Off to the right, Twilight could see the southern shore and the glistening oceans beyond. From here, she could spy places along the coast where the land jutted further out and spotted even more of these growths—far larger ones, at that—rising like the Manehattan skyline.

“Bah… I always hated this place,” one of the troops idly muttered to himself.

The commander didn’t say a word. He simply stepped forward and through the gate, the rest of the troupe falling in behind him.

The soil squelched under Twilight’s hooves, and the already-powerful smell of saltwater grew almost unbearable. Her ears folded back out of reflex, and as they began to descend the slope into the spawning grounds, her eyes began to sting from briny fumes that seemed to rise from the soil itself.

The group walked on for several minutes, following the shoreline. The gentle breathing of the ocean waves helped take some of Twilight’s anxiety away, but the way the gravel growled as the waters receded only brought it back tenfold. She felt like they were being watched, and she couldn’t help but anxiously cast her eyes about in search of prying eyes.

Eventually, the party rounded a small spire of stone and rubble and came to a stop. Up ahead, a small band of five Sahagin could be seen, one of which was far taller than the others. Twilight swallowed as she got her first good look at the so-called ‘fishbacks.’

They stood on two legs, as the amalj’aa had, but where the worshipers of Ifrit were tall, burly lizardmen, the sahagin were slender and lithe, with lanky builds. Their scaly blue bodies glistened in the sunlight, slick and slippery with salt water. Fins lined their shoulders, the backs of their heads, ran down their spines, and even fanned out from their jawline. They wore little in the way of clothing, but their natural hides seemed suited to provide plenty of protection. In their hands were wielded relatively primitive weapons in the form of long poles tipped with seashells shaped into spearheads.

The Commander lifted a hand, bringing the group to a halt. He turned back to address his troops. “Two of you and the Scion are to come with me. The rest of you are to keep a respectful distance. Close enough to lend aid should aught go amiss, but far enough to not make our hosts feel threatened. Again, unless struck first, I want you to keep your weapons on your belts… though do keep your hands close to your hilts. Just in case.”

A series of quiet nods answered him as the troops took up their positions. Satisfied, the commander nodded to Y’shtola. “Alright, come on.”

Y’shtola said nothing, and the group began their advance. Twilight kept close to Y’shtola’s side, her eyes locked on to the sahagin. One of them stood far larger than the others, and was the only one wearing any notable attire. Worn on its head like a hat was an enormous purple clam. This one stepped forward to meet the approaching Lominsans.

The sahagin raised a hand, and those that stood behind it tensed. The signal was clear, and the Commander came to a stop, Y’shtola and Twilight stopping beside him.

Twilight couldn’t see the sahagin’s eyes under that giant clam, but she could feel its gaze piercing all of them.

“Fssshhh… The shorewalkers deign to honour their agreement. Surprising.”

When the sahagin spoke, its voice was a slur of guttural, wet-sounding growls, as if hissed through a mouthful of water and clenched teeth. She saw gills vibrating along the chieftain’s neck as they spoke, making her shudder slightly.

The commander took a step forward. “I am Commander Kedrin of the Maelstrom, and this is Y’shtola Rhul. We are here at the request of the Admiral of Limsa Lominsa, Merlwyb Bloefiswyn, to negotiate an end to the recent hostilities between your clan and our people.”

Y’shtola took a step forward as well. “What might we call you?”

The sahagin growled quietly before speaking up. “Psshh. Voth. You may call me Voth, shore walker.”

Y’shtola put on a friendly smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Voth.”

Voth shook his head. “Bah. Spare me the pleasantries and get to the point. I’ve not the time to waste.”

Twilight frowned, glancing at Y’shtola. The miqo’te’s expression had hardened considerably.

“Very well…”

Kedrin nodded his head. “If you wish to cut to the chase, then so be it. In recent weeks, your clan has been sighted and reported committing numerous acts of piracy against ships—Lominsan and otherwise—when they had taken no prior action against your clan. Ere we begin negotiating, I would know why.”

Voth was quiet for a few seconds before turning to glare out at the ocean. “...We starve, Shorewalker.”

Y’shtola’s eyes narrowed. “Starve?”

Voth nodded. “Yes. The faithful of Leviathan take and take, and leave nought for us but gnashing fangs and promising lies. The shorewalkers take and take, and leave nought for us but cries of revulsion and shining steel. If we are to survive, we must take back. And so we have.”

Twilight’s ears perked up. “The faithful of Leviathan? Then, does that mean…”

Y’shtola seemed to have the same idea. “Are you yourselves not loyal to Leviathan?”

Voth hesitated. “...Loyal to Leviathan, yes. But not to that lie. That ravenous monstrosity. It pollutes the minds of our people, turning wise shamans and mighty warriors into zealots and butchers.”

Kedrin and Y’shtola shared a glance, and Twilight felt a swelling of hope in her breast. These Sahagin weren’t tempered! Then this might actually work! Despite herself, she couldn’t help but grin.

Voth continued. “I recall that you shorewalkers go by a saying… what was it? Till sea swallows all? Psshhh…” he snarled and turned back to them. “If the lie has its way, then it shall swallow the sea ere the sea swallows you.”

Y’shtola nodded slowly. “I see… then it sounds as if we share a common enemy.”

“That does not make us friends!” Voth snapped, throwing his arm wide for emphasis. “Again and again, even before the lie was whispered into our ears, you shorewalkers took and took and took! And when our oceans boiled and our eggs shattered when the sky turned to fire, you tried to kill us when we dared seek new lands for our Indigo Mothers to lay their eggs!”

Kedrin frowned. “While I understand the need to preserve your spawning grounds, it cannot go unsaid that the sahagin made no effort to reach out to the Admiral on that matter. Sahagin forces simply washed up onto land that lay within Lominsa’s territory. Were we simply to sit idly by and allow our lands to be invaded?”

Voth scowled bitterly, a few drops of water falling from his maw.

Y’shtola was quick to cut in. “Regardless of that prior incident, we are here now to discuss an end to the violence!” she chided them both as if they were children, and their snapping remarks died in their throats. Twilight felt a little thrill of fear at the sight.

Y’shtola turned to Voth. “From what you have already said and what we have seen, I gather that you and your clan are small. And given your conflict of interests with the Faithful of Leviathan, would I be correct in assuming that your access to sahagin hunting grounds has been cut off by larger, stronger factions?”

Voth tilted his head, pondering her question. Twilight glanced past him to see his own cadre of guards looking uneasily amongst themselves. And now that she was really looking, they appeared awfully skinny… not that she was an expert on sahagin anatomy, but somehow, she just knew these ones were not getting enough to eat.

Voth nodded a moment later. “You would. You are clever, shorewalker.”

Y’shtola smiled. “I try.”

Kedrin took the opportunity to rejoin the discussion. “So, you are a small clan that is beset on all sides by hostile forces… At least, by your perception. Is that so?”

Voth nodded.

Kedrin crossed his arms, glancing down at the ground. “Well, that makes matters here rather simpler…” he muttered before focusing back on the sahagin. “As Y’shtola said not long ago, we share a common enemy. Leviathan—or the lie, as you call it—and its thralls have been an enemy of Limsa for nearly as long as the city has existed. We do not wish to be in conflict with your people, however, and if you have shunned the worship of that lie, then the Admiral would be willing to discuss a potential alliance with your clan. Failing that, then we would still be open to negotiating a possibility of trade with your clan. Such an arrangement would end your need for aggression against our civilians, and it would solve your food problem.”

Voth pondered this for several seconds, glancing off at the water again. “Pssshhkooh...You speak honeyed words, shorewalker. Yet what assurances do I have that you speak in earnest? What can I take as proof that you will not go back on your word? If such an arrangement is made, full often will my people be vulnerable to yours. What assurances can you give me that we will be safe?”

Kedrin hesitated for a second, glancing at Y’shtola for help when it became clear that he did not have a ready answer. Y’shtola frowned before turning back to Voth.

“That is an unfortunately difficult question to answer at the moment… Such measures would be better discussed with the Admiral herself if you would be amenable to a more formal meeting with her.”

Silence fell over the meeting. Twilight looked between them all as Voth thought over the proposition, a clawed hand rising to his chin.

Still, even with that question in the air, this was good. Voth was proving to be remarkably level-headed so far, and even forthright with information about his people’s difficult position. Maybe he’d be desperate enough to accept the offer even with his clear reluctance and distrust. And from there, work could be done to earn his trust, and make life easier for his clan. Trade could even help mitigate the distrust between Lominsa and the Sahagin as a whole by showing the people in the city that their stupid prejudices were just that—stupid.

Unfortunately, such musings were cut short by a sudden scream piercing the air behind them. Twilight jumped in her skin, a sudden feeling of ice filling her veins, and spun around just in time to watch one of the Maelstrom soldiers falling back into the sea, a spear stabbing through his back and out his chest.

A spear clearly made by sahagin hands.

Kedrin’s eyes flew wide, his hand already flying for his halberd. “Ambush!” he bellowed.

The sahagin before them recoiled back in clear surprise. Twilight turned her head from them to see a newer group of sahagin burst free from the waves and land on the ground with snarls of contempt.

“Pssshhh, kill the shorewalkers! Exterminate the infestation in the name of Lord Leviathan!” one of the new sahagin screeched, hurling another spear straight for Commander Kedrin.

The hyur sidestepped the projectile, pulling his halberd from his back and readying himself for battle.

“Men, defend yourselves!”

“Aye, it was a bloody trap, treacherous fishbacks!” another soldier, a roegadyn, shouted, drawing an axe and bringing it to bear.

Only, rather than bringing it down on the new arrivals, he swiftly turned and swung it wildly towards one of the very sahagin they’d just been conversing with. An almighty shout of rage escaped the giant man’s lips as the blade haphazardly careened at its target, the sahagin instinctually flinching back and turning what would have been a dissection into a nasty slash across his chest.

Twilight eyes widened as the sahagin bristled from the strike, her expression shared by the soldier’s commanding officer.

“Hold, men! Strike only the-”

His statement stopped short as one of the hostile sahagin made a lunge for him, a spear shooting forth so fast he barely reacted in time to avoid being skewered by the ravenous tempered. As he moved to defend himself, the other soldiers all took up defensive stances and began to strike at the sahagin with blade and gunshot. All the sahagin, many seemingly losing all distinction between the two groups.

Twilight shrunk back to Y’shtola’s side, her mind racing as she tried to even comprehend just where things went wrong. They’d been doing so well, and in mere moments…

“W-what do we do…?” she asked in a panicked tone, not even trying to pretend to be a mere carbuncle at that moment.

Y'shtola grimaced as she drew her wand, her gaze scanning over the rapidly-devolving battlefield with a mixture of disappointment and sadness in her eyes. Her gaze particularly hardened when she regarded the Maelstrom soldier wielding the axe, fresh sahagin blood still dripping from the blade, before she gave a defeated sigh and glanced down at the faux familiar.

“We should withdraw. What we set out to do is now beyond our reach.”

Her words seemed to draw the attention of Voth, even as he began to retreat back from the fray with his kin in tow.

“Psshhkoh, see! See! Shorewalkers always choose the blade! There is no peace!” he bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at the miqo’te. “We leave! The liars and the shorewalkers can kill each other!”

“I’m sorry, truly,” Y’shtola apologized to the sahagin with the slightest of slumps coming over her posture. “Go then, take your people to safety. But know this was not our intent.”

“We will not hear your hollow words! Begone!” he commanded, hurriedly turning to depart before, just as suddenly, halting in his tracks. “What!?”

The fighting raged on around them. The tempered clashed into a line of Maelstrom regulars, spear and axe spilling blood as the sahagin broke against the greater numbers of the Lominsans with all the fervour their addled minds could muster. On the other side still, the sahagin who they had wished to treat with struggled to flee as several found themselves grappling with some of the panicking soldiers. It was chaos, sides blurred and violence enraptured.

In that moment, Twilight found herself tuning it all out. Rather, her eyes snapped to the focus of Voth’s surprise. There, between the sodden rocks and clusters of coral, a pair of terrified eyes that were far too small peered out at the battle in clear horror.

“Gah! Foolish hatchling! Why did you follow!? Go! Return home!” Voth urged, gesturing wildly towards the wayward child.

BANG.

“Gyah!”

A spurt of blood splattered from Voth’s side, the sahagin staggered to his knees as he clutched the brand new bullet wound in his side. As he did, one of the Maelstrom soldiers came bounding over to the chief, gun smoking as he looked over his prey with wide, fearful eyes.

“Wait, stop! I’m ordering you to cease your attack!” Kedrin shouted, grunting as he struggled over a spear with one of the attacking sahagin.

And yet, be it through the noise of battle or the fog of war descending over the man’s mind, he didn’t seem to hear or acknowledge the command.

“Seven hells…” Y’shtola cursed, moving a step towards the scene before something glinted in the corner of her eye.

She turned in a flash, a barrier of pure energy erupting from her hand and enveloping her body as she intercepted a flaming bolt hurled her way from amongst the tempered. The thaumaturge among their number hissed, charging forward and attempting to use his staff as a cudgel against the woman.

Twilight focused on her magic, taking in a breath as her lessons with Y’shtola came to mind, and she released a simple concussive blast that staggered the sahagin away from her friend.

As the miqo’te remained focused on her attacker, Twilight turned her eyes back to Voth. Her initial instinct was to continue to make use of her lessons and perhaps even salvage an ounce of goodwill by treating his wounds; a physick spell, to take away the pain and seal the wound before it could do him further harm.

That thought faltered with any such magic as she beheld the child, now very much in the open, standing between the stricken elder and the gun-toting man who’d shot him.

“S-stop…!” the child quivered before him, holding out their arms in some desperate attempt to ward him off.

The soldier hesitated, his gun held aloft, his finger on the trigger. His eyes grew wider still, his breaths ragged, his whole body shaking in indecision and fear as he beheld the child of his perceived enemy.

Twilight was already moving forward, instinct coursing through her veins, when the child accidentally kicked a loose rock as he backed away.

She barely paid attention to the man’s startled yelp, his finger pressing down as a horrific crack filled the air.

Would that the bullet had far to go, as a purple form leapt upon the gun and grabbed hold of the outstretched arm. He yelped as he fell, the carbuncle falling upon him in a spray of blood. Firey, white-hot pain blossomed in Twilight’s chest, and her ears were filled with a horrible ringing sound. She gasped involuntarily, and even that tiny gesture sent an inferno of agony screaming through her body. Her vision blurred in shock and pain, her thoughts turning sluggish and soupy.

As the soldier beneath her collapsed, his fear only escalated as the carbuncle’s form shimmered and shattered, leaving plain as the day’s sun a purple alicorn for all to see.

“Twilight!” Y’shtola shouted in alarm.

The Princess collapsed, her breaths shallow, each one inviting a fresh swell of unrelenting pain. She wanted to scream, to cry out, but she couldn’t even find the air to breathe properly. The world around her was growing faint and murky as her consciousness began to slip away. Blood poured from the bullet wound in her chest. She was faintly aware of her friend rushing to her side, the warmth of healing magicks beginning to caress her form. She could scarcely see anymore, however, and sound was ethereal, as if from a long way away…

“By the Twelve, what did you do!?”

“I… I don’t know I… what is that!?”

“Silence! Help me move her out of here for the love of the Gods! We need to get the bullet out!”

Twilight consciousness faded in its entirety, her mind going numb, leaving the horrors of the battle far behind…

“Hmph. Perhaps I needn’t try so hard if she is so determined to welcome her demise.”

The black-robed figure crossed his arms, sneering from behind his mask as he stared down at the sight. Scarmiglione sat atop the cliff above the raging conflict between the sahagin and the fools of the Maelstrom, the men pushing through what little was left of the tempered attackers while the sahagin clan they’d attempted parlay with made a quick escape with their wounded chief and the wandering hatchling.

It hadn’t taken much to push Leviathan’s faithful to… ‘interrupt’ the meeting, just the right word in the right ear. And the Paragons had a long and storied relationship with the beast tribes…

Peace was foiled another day, so Lahabrea could stop fretting over his pet primals.

As for Scarmiglione’s own little problem, it almost seemed as if Twilight would get herself killed even without the intervention of his ally in the Empire. Should her wounds prove too severe for their medical aid, of course.

“But would that be for the best…?” he wondered to himself, his hand coming to rest where the Element of Magic lay concealed within his robes. “The Tribunus would be most disappointed, and I find myself curious as to what secrets you could share, little one. We all must serve the One True God, be it in death or… something more.”

He watched as Y’shtola carried the stricken alicorn from the battlefield, the woman scanning around for any further threats as she retreated. She looked all around the area, until her gaze spanned upwards…

Their eyes met. Y’shtola was clearly surprised to see him, before her eyes steeled into something far more determined. The ascian, on his part, didn’t offer her a response. He merely allowed a vortex of shadow to consume his form as he promptly departed the area.

Whether she lived or died, in truth it mattered little in the grand scheme. Whatever her alicorn form could reveal, whatever knowledge her mind could impart, he already held the true prize. With it, his plans proceeded apace, with no one to stand in his way. Not the Scions, not even Lahabrea, no one.

For the salvation of the Thirteenth, and the ardour of his own making, no price was too large. And no method beyond his reach.

15 - Bronze Lake

When Twilight’s hearing finally returned to her, it wasn’t to the chaotic rumblings of the battlefield or the shrieks of sahagin as they either tried to retreat from danger or orchestrate it. Instead, her eyelids fluttered open to the sight of a rather boring wooden roof hanging above her head.

She missed Canterlot architecture; at least it was generally pretty to look at.

Oh, and also, she hurt. Her barrel ached due to the wound she was pretty certain she’d received from friendly fire, and she also felt like she hadn’t moved in days. “Stiff” did not adequately describe it, and she couldn’t help but wince as her body creaked in protest when she began to sit up in the bed.

Yes, a bed. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but logically speaking, she had been taken for some kind of medical treatment following her injury. That made sense. Maybe back to the fort? It was the only structure nearby, as far as she could remember, save for Wineport. She’d probably been out for only a few hours, maybe a day, so Y’shtola had to be somewhere nearby.

But then, even as Twilight went through a mental checklist of all her normal bodily functions to make sure she wasn’t about to leak something red and bad all over the floor, her mind slowly drifted into more sobering territory…

What happened to the child? Had… had she helped?

And the others? The sahagin? And the soldier she’d been with? Were they all alright?

She had been so sure that they could fix things… They’d been talking! It had only just started, but there was a chance! No fighting, no arguing, just calm and constructive conversation toward a better future…

How had it all gone so wrong so quickly!? First the tempered ambush, then the panic amongst the soldiers…

What had happened after she’d been hurt?

“Oh Celestia, Y’shtola is going to be so mad at me…” Twilight lamented aloud, her throat dry and croaking. “I was supposed to be keeping an eye out! What if…”

Her moment of self-doubt was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and she finally scanned her eyes across the room in search of it. It was a small square room with a single bed, some cabinets off to the side and a table with what she assumed to be medical instruments arranged neatly atop it. All of this was a passing curiosity as her eyes found the entranceway and watched as a hyur woman walked in with a pack of fresh bandages in her grasp.

She gasped the moment she saw Twilight, the bandages dropping to the floor.

A piece of Twilight’s mind couldn’t help but notice how their sterility was probably now ruined, but that was hardly the most pressing issue.

“You’re… awake! Um, Miss? Is it Miss? I don’t really, um…”

Twilight bit her lip, suddenly feeling incredibly naked without her carbuncle disguise. And she was a typically clothes-less pony, so that was saying something.

“Yeah, um… That’s fine…”

“Oh! Right, um, beg your pardon!”

And with that, the woman dashed out with nary another word.

Was she really that daunting to converse with?

Twilight sighed, her shoulders sagging as she examined the bandages around her wound. They definitely seemed dirty and in need of replacing. Maybe she should just do it herself. It’s not like she didn’t know how. Celestia was ever the thorough teacher in all things…

And Shining Armor always made for an excellent practice dummy.

She stretched her hooves out, wincing once more as more creaking emanated from her bones, before starting to pull herself towards the edge of the bed with the intent to roll off the mattress and hopefully right herself on the ground.

“Don’t even think about it. Your wound yet remains. I would advise rest for a while longer,” a familiar voice gently chastised her, Twilight gasping as her eyes shot up to see a gently smiling Y’shtola looking at her with a mix of relief and sympathy from the doorway. “Come now, if you reopen your wounds and render my ministrations for nought I won’t hesitate to ground you on a more permanent basis.”

“G-ground!?” Twilight whined in protest. “I’m not a foal!”

“No, but you are wounded. Now, sit. Medic’s orders,” Y’shtola continued, closing the door behind her and approaching the bed as Twilight reluctantly fell and returned to her seated position. “Now… how do you feel? Are you well?”

Twilight grimaced, feeling at her bandaged barrel. She winced with a hiss as her hoof passed over her injury, and it quickly jerked away on reflex. The hole burned like fire, and it took a considerable amount of willpower to keep from yelping in pain.

She cracked open an eye to give Y’shtola a look. “Ack! Does that answer your question?”

“The pain lingers, then,” Y’shtola noted soberly, her smile fading away. “I had hoped otherwise… Severe though as your wound was, it came far closer to claiming your life than it had any right to, and for far longer. You are truly an enigma.”

Twilight blinked, confused. “Wait. What do you mean?”

Y’shtola didn’t answer immediately. Her brow furrowed in thought as if she were hunting for the right words to express what was on her mind. It only took her a moment to find them, though. “As you know, I am a Conjurer, and one of the most important aspects of that discipline is the art of healing magic. For Conjurers, this involves drawing upon the aether of the natural world and imbuing it into our patient in order to accelerate the body’s natural recovery. In your condition, all that normally would have been required would be a swift surgery to remove the bullet from your chest, and then a few days of bed rest and routine applications of healing magic until you were recovered.”

Twilight’s frown deepened, a sense of unease pooling in her belly. “I’m sensing a very loud ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she said slowly.

Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. When the bullet was extracted, I set about applying my magic to you. But instead of the swift recovery I would have expected, I was alarmed to discover that your body was actively rejecting the aether. ‘Twas as if there was a fundamental incompatibility between my spells and your flesh. Not unlike how your magic struggles to enact meaningful effects in this world; it would appear that the opposite is also true.”

The colour slowly drained from Twilight’s face at this revelation. “But… w-what about my glamour? The carbuncle illusion?”

Y’shtola shook her head. “I am afraid I can only speculate. Were I to make a theory, I would wager that the reason your glamour works at all is that you are the one casting it. Further, it does not seep into your flesh in the same manner as a healing spell. Rather, it affects only the surface of your skin, and the space surrounding it. As such, the foreign energy is not recognized as a threat by your body, and so no effort is made to repel it.”

Twilight swallowed heavily. “Then… If your magic wasn’t working on me… how long was I out?”

Y’shtola was quiet for a moment. “...Several weeks, I am afraid.”

“Several weeks…?” Twilight echoed, looking down at her hooves. Another stab of guilt and disappointment went through her system. If that was true, then how much had she been slowing Y’shtola’s efforts? Intentional or otherwise, she would have been serving as a drain on resources. A dead weight. She shuddered slightly and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

But instead of the biting remarks Twilight was expecting from the stern, suspicious Miqo’te, Y’shtola merely tilted her head in confusion. “For what, pray tell?”

“For making a mess of things?” Twilight said. “For not realizing something was wrong sooner? For getting myself hurt with that reckless stunt?”

Y’shtola stared at Twilight for a moment. Her expression hardened, but not in the way Twilight was used to. “Come now. That is enough of that. You did more than enough.”

Twilight blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Y’shtola actually smiled at her. “Everything happened quite quickly. I would not blame someone for being slow to react in such a chaotic situation, much less in such a selfless manner. When you saw an innocent child’s life in danger, your first instinct was to leap to their defence. It did not matter that you defended the child from one of your own allies. You risked your life to do what was right.”

Twilight began to relax as Y’shtola spoke, feeling a weight rising from her shoulders. Was this praise? From Y’shtola? “Huh. New feeling.”

Y’shtola went on. “Nor was I the only one to notice your courage. After the battle ended, Voth sent an emissary to speak with the commander back at the fortress. Though there is yet lingering tension, Voth and his fellows recognized the manipulation of the situation, and out of gratitude to you for saving the child, negotiations have been re-opened.”

Twilight’s heart swelled. She could barely dare to believe it. After things had gone so wrong so quickly, they were actually getting better? She took a deep breath. “Then… I helped? I made things better?”

Y’shtola nodded before reaching out to pat Twilight on the shoulder. “That you did. More than I could have hoped. I must apologize for doubting you for as long as I have. It was wrong of me to treat you so harshly. Having seen your conviction firsthand, I am proud to call you my friend and ally.”

Twilight blinked, taking a second to let the staggeringly blunt vote of confidence seep in. Then she laughed. She might have jumped forward to hug Y’shtola, were it not for the lingering burn in her chest, and the fact that Y’shtola still had a hand on her to keep her in place. All the same, she laughed. A happy, relieved sound.

When at last she could speak again she met Y’shtola’s gaze. “Me too. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“You have yet to do so,” Y’shtola reminded with a nod. “And I do not expect this to change.”

Acting on impulse, Twilight managed to rise to her hooves before reaching out to pull Y’shtola into an impromptu hug. Her chest burned slightly in response to the friction against Y’shtola’s shirt, but she didn’t really care. She was just glad things had turned out as they had. The violence had passed, and with any luck, some meaningful progress could be made in building a lasting peace with Voth’s clan.

The moment of silence carried on for a few too many.

“Unhand me,” Y’shtola said in a deadpan.

Twilight quickly withdrew with a yelp. “Sorry, sorry!”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I do prefer an element of personal space,” Y’shtola stated, before gaining a wry smirk. “Besides, should you make the mistake of dripping your blood onto my white garments, then the grounding is still very much an option.

Twilight groaned. “What is with the mother routine? Where did grumpy Y’shtola go!?”

“Are you not the one who claimed I would make for a good, stern, grumpy mother? Besides, I am merely cautious. If you want grumpiness, I would be happy to introduce you to my teacher. Alas, this is neither the time nor the place.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“While most of the Maelstrom soldiers accompanying us escaped, a scant few were dragged beneath the waves by our attackers. This served to add to the pile of unease amongst those that would protect their nation, especially as the second beast tribe of these lands begins to stir.”

“The second?” Twilight inquired. “Right… Kobolds, was it?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Indeed. They have been acting in a manner suggesting the summoning of their own patron deity is imminent. With matters resolved in Gridania for the time being, our axe-wielding friend has left the forest and joined us here. It is likely we will soon confront Titan directly, as you two did Ifrit.”

“What? He’s here? Wait, what happened in Gridania, are Yda and Papalymo okay?”

“They are fine, worry not. There was a risk of Ramuh being summoned, but thanks to our friend’s efforts, such an outcome was thankfully averted. Beyond that, among the primals, he is a strangely benevolent one, and while still dangerous, not above reason. So he—and by extension, the sylphs—yet stay their hands. The Twelveswood remains safe for the time being.”

Twilight hummed, taking it in. From what she’d heard and experienced about primals, she hadn’t thought such beings could be seen as ‘reasonable’. Though, that there was at least one gave her a sense of hope…

“So, Yda and Papalymo stayed behind?”

“They have their own tasks to tend to, our friend meanwhile is of far greater use readying his weapon against a foe only the echo can combat,” the miqo’te noted before her expression darkened somewhat. “There is something else. After your injury, amidst the fray, I spied an ascian overseeing from up above.”

Twilight’s coat bristled at the mention of that name, immediately sitting up a little straighter as her widening eyes examined the grim woman before her.

“Ascian? Like the one I met before?”

“His mask was blackened, an underling for certain,” she confirmed. “And as like, the very being in possession of your Element of Magic. I cannot be certain, but their direct presence would indicate a personal connection with the event. Interrupting peace negotiations is certainly among typical ascian plotting, but to allow himself to be seen… Nay, I believe it was we who invited his presence.”

“...Or me. Specifically speaking…”

Y’shtola gave a slow nod. “It is plausible. The ascian who holds designs on your artefact is likely none too pleased with your alliance with the Scions. We must take great care. They will most certainly try again to remove you from the board.”

“We… we aren’t even any closer to finding him. Is he really that threatened by me?”

“We Scions exist to thwart them at every turn. And your connection to his prize undoubtedly makes your continued presence a threat. But whatever he intends for the crystal, it cannot be allowed to come to fruition. I hold no doubt it would spell ruin for Eorzea.”

“The Element is meant to spread friendship, harmony…”

“As with many things they deign to touch, its purpose may yet be corrupted. All the more reason to halt their primals and ascertain the plot. And doubt not that we are sparing no effort. Thancred continues his due diligence and is scouring the realm for information regarding our foe, as do the rest of us in our own assignments.”

Twilight took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly letting it loose through her lips.

“Okay… I trust you all. Heh, maybe he’ll bring it to us if he wants to see me dead so much…”

“Should his persistence create mistakes, you can be certain we will be quick to take advantage,” Y’shtola promised her. “And they are getting bolder. Another was encountered in Gridania, attempting to incite the sylphs. Lahabrea, an overlord.”

“Celestia, one of the big ones? Is-”

“He is fine, they did not personally come to blows,” Y’shtola assured her, anticipating her question regarding their adventuring companion. “We may speak with him later, but as of now he is sleeping off a night of revelry and an all-too-numerous plateful of food.”

Twilight slowly tilted her head. “...Wanna hit me with that one again?”

Y’shtola chuckled. “A long and terribly tedious story, I am afraid. Suffice to say, local ‘custom’ delayed us, in order to secure the proper aid against Titan.”

“Okay, I do want details…” Twilight said, before beginning to rise from the bed once more, much to Y’shtola’s immediate alarm. “But enough about the ascians for a moment, I want to hear more about Titan and the kobolds. And wherever the heck we currently are…”

“Twilight, stop, you are not-”

“Ground me later. Dear Celestia, I need some air…” Twilight stubbornly refused, carefully sliding off of the bed and trotting towards the door. “Since everyone here has already seen me now on account of the bullet, I take it nobody will object much if I trot around a while?”

The woman gave her a deadpan glare. “I would not advise any of this. Truly.”

“I got shot, I get to be difficult!” she decided with a smirk. “And you get to tell me everything!”

Y’shtola maintained her look for several moments more before it shifted into a mildly amused expression. “Such stubbornness, perhaps you have been exposed to we Scions for too long. Very well, but do not wander far or beyond my sight. I won’t hesitate to use magic to render you asleep and carry you back myself.”

“Hm, I thought your magics weren’t as effective on me?”

“If the amalj’aa can make it work, then I assure you, so can I.”

“Oh, fine,” Twilight conceded with a playful roll of her eyes. “You coming?”

Y’shtola came up to Twilight’s side with a nod and guided her from the room. They descended down a flight of stairs before emerging into a large, well-lit room. A series of windows along the front wall let in shafts of vaguely green-tinted sunlight. Twilight felt a pull toward it, and didn’t even pay attention to the people around the room who gave her startled or surprised looks. She could only imagine it was a stern glance from Y’shtola that kept them from saying anything.

Stepping out of the building, Twilight’s eyes widened. The hospice she had just left was situated at the top of a tall rise of La Noscean stone, affording her a wide view of a town snugly nestled into a rocky cliff-side. Dense forestation marked the tops of the cliffs, while the ground was marked with dozens of natural pools of greenish water, softly bubbling away and steaming. She could see people lounging in the pools, stripped down to their smallclothes. The air stank of rotten eggs and salt water, and Twilight knew the pools to be hot springs.

Beyond the edges of the settlement, Twilight could see a large lake spanning out far into the distance. Small wooden boats could be seen on the water, some host to fishermen, others travelling to or from a wooden dock on the shore. An impressive ruined structure rose out of the centre of the lake, made of moss-smeared white stone bricks. It was narrow at its base where it met the water and widened out as it rose high into the air.

Twilight eyed the ruin with wide eyes. “Woah… what is that?” she asked quietly.

“An old ruin left behind by the people of Nym,” Y’shtola answered, crossing her arms. “One of the old nations of magi from before the sixth umbral calamity. The Calamity of Water.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed. “Of water, huh? I take it that means there was a lot of flooding?”

Y’shtola nodded before ushering Twilight towards the nearest of the hot springs. “Yes. But that is a lesson for another time. For now, if you must be out and about, at least be in the water.”

Twilight tilted her head. “How come?”

“Did you not wonder why this town was built directly on top of these hot springs, where the air stinks so powerfully?”

“Er… not really?”

Y’shtola chuckled. “The waters here emerged after Dalamud’s fall, and it was discovered that they possess potent rejuvenating properties. The old Camp Bronze Lake was relocated here following that discovery, and the settlement is often hosting Maelstrom and Yellowjacket soldiers who were injured in the line of duty. Bathe in the spring, and it may help your body recover.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and her mind immediately lit up with scholarly interest. “Wow, really? How does that work? Is it magic, or something more scientific?”

“Twilight.”

Twilight’s stream of questions ended before they could truly begin. With a disappointed sigh, she slipped into the waters of the stream. It wasn’t deep, only coming up to the bottom of her belly, but already the heat of the water and the steam did wonders to chase the tension and pain out of her system.

Once she was settled and comfortable, she nodded back up at Y’shtola. “Alright. Kobolds and Titan. What do we know?”

Y’shtola sat down by the edge of the spring, her smile fading away. “...The Kobolds are natives of this island, here long before the pirates of Limsa. They are remarkably skilled smiths and alchemists, due in large part to their homes being settled deep into the U'Ghoromo Mountains on the northern end. In the days of Lominsa’s founding, it was in fact the Kobolds who shared the secrets of smelting with the freshly-arrived pirates.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Really? There was an alliance between them?” she asked.

“Aye. For a time. When Limsa was first founded, there was conflict, but an accord was eventually reached. It was… tenuous, at the best of times. The terms were vague and the borders between their territories ill-defined. I can only assume this was by design, to give the largely more powerful forces of Limsa Lominsa a political advantage. There were numerous conflicts, violations of the treaty in spirit, fights, and thefts as time went on. With the coming of Dalamud, things reached a boiling point. With the geography of Vylbrand forever altered, Limsa Lominsa’s leadership believed they had no other recourse but to ignore their already-murky borders and expand into Kobold territory just to try and recover from the damage left in the Calamity’s wake.”

Twilight’s ears drooped. “And… the Kobolds fought back?”

“There was nought else for them to do,” Y’shtola nodded. “And so, as it is with the Sahagin, the two sides have entered into conflict, a constant cycle of retribution against retribution. A never-ending loop, perpetuated by a tithe of blood and hate.”

Twilight looked down at her face reflected in the water. Part of her wanted to ask why these people couldn’t just get along and cooperate, but this time she held her tongue. She was starting to understand why. This world was not so kind as her own, and it did not smile upon weakness. It was wrong for these people to fight one another, of that there could never be any question. But no longer was she so certain that it wasn’t necessary…

She shook her head to dispel such notions. Maybe the violence had to happen, but that was why the Scions were here, right? Fighting to end the fighting…

“...As for Titan,” Y’shtola continued, her voice tentative. “According to the faith of the Kobolds, he is a gentle, loving father figure to the Kobolds. But while he is gentle, tender, and loving of his people, he is fiercely protective of them. According to legend, all who invoke the fury of Titan shall meet a terrible end. The Lord of Crags, he is called.”

Twilight hummed. “Gentle, caring, and infinitely protective of his subjects, huh? Heh. He almost sounds like Princess Celestia.”

“I would not know. Alas, the primal that the Kobolds have summoned is not alike to the gentle father of their faith. This entity is born of a desire to push back the people of Limsa Lominsa, and as such, his fury and his wrath have taken centre stage. The ground trembles and the earthquakes with his fury, and if left to his own devices, he shall march upon the people of this isle and entomb them in the earth.”

Twilight closed her eyes. “I see… Then I guess there is nothing to it but for us to stop him.”

“Us?” Y’shtola echoed. “Pardon me, Twilight, but you are still wounded. In spite of your rebelliousness, you are in no condition to fight, nor will you be by the time our friend ventures forth to confront the primal.”

Offence crossed over Twilight’s features. “Okay, first, I’m not a rebel! I happened to be a very well-behaved student! Mostly. Ahem, secondly, I think I showed with Ifrit that I can be of help to him!”

“Perhaps, but not as you are. You cannot expect us to combat a primal while also nursing your wound, such would be a futile effort. And as it is, Titan’s present strength is magnitudes beyond the, by all accounts, shallow summoning of Ifrit you faced before.”

“Then that’s all the more reason I should go! You won’t be able to face him without becoming a drooling slave, and we’re the only two who can resist him! Do you think he’ll just be fine by himself?”

Y’shtola frowned. “Despite the recent banquet, he has taken great strides in actual training for that very event. I believe he is ready, and we do have auxiliary forces if it becomes necessary. Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that, because all too many would fall to his influence.”

“Y’shtola, I’ll be fine. We still have a little time, right? We can work on this, and I can work on my magic a bit more. I’m not going to sit back while you all go fight a god.”

“And I won’t sit back and watch a friend fruitlessly smash her broken body against the raging earth,” Y’shtola stressed, an uncharacteristic hint of desperation entering her tone. “I already watched you fall, and I refuse to do so again.”

Twilight’s resolve faltered a little at that, but some small measure of defiance yet remained. “I… I can’t watch you go knowing you might not come back when it was I who could have done something.”

“My body is yet whole. Your wound is the deciding factor,” she concluded in turn. “I apologize, but this is the final word on the matter. In a few days, we will assault Titan’s lair within the kobold settlement, and you will remain here and further practice integrating your magic with ours.”

“...Fine. But… I can’t agree. I just can’t.”

“I understand. But it changes nothing,” Y’shtola finished, before managing a softer smile. “Things will be fine, have some faith in us, as you might your Equestrian friends.”

Twilight sighed. “Okay… But you really think I’ll be fine by myself with the Ascians poking around?”

“Even they would be foolish to make an attempt against you here, surrounded as you are by alliance forces. Practice your magic, stay put, and we shall return anon.”

“...Promise me.”

“I promise,” she replied without missing a beat. “We Scions shall triumph, and when Titan lay defeated at our local champion’s feet, we’ll all make our return to the Sands to plan our next move. Hopefully, Thancred should have some further lead on your Element’s fate.”

Twilight was quiet for a moment. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Y’shtola was right. She was overthinking things again, as usual. She had seen what their friend could do firsthoof. He could handle himself. And so she gave Y’shtola a smile. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that.”

Y’shtola smiled back. “You shall not be disappointed.”

16 - Antagonism

Meanwhile, in the foothills around O'Ghomoro…

Though he would never say it to her face, Nero tol Scaeva was rather impressed with Y’sanna’s prowess in hunting down beastmen. He looked on with silent interest as her modified carbuncle ravenously tore into the still twitching, gurgling body of a kobold. The poor creature’s last whimpering pleas for its life were lost amid the din of the tiny monster’s feral snarls and the tearing of fresh meat.

They stood amid the ruins of one of the countless small villages the kobolds maintained around the edges of Mount O’Ghomoro, surrounded by green forestation broken up by hot springs and gouts of volcanic steam. Y’sanna had led the charge on this attack, guiding the small imperial hit squad through the wild terrain. Nero recalled how she had moved through the shrubbery with a swift, effortless grace that was befitting of the predator her slit pupils marked her as.

The camp had smelled of sulfur and disturbed dust upon their arrival. Now that smell was drowned out by the stench of blood and death. Most of that blood had been spilled in the first few moments, and Y’sanna’s carbuncle could claim the lion’s share of it, if not the lion’s share of actual kills. Her unorthodox method of fighting made her a bit of a wildcard within traditional Garlean tactics, that much was true, and Nero knew there would be many grumbles of disapproval at letting a savage like her lead such an operation. But Gaius had the wisdom to see how much of an unknown quantity she was to their enemies, and no one could really be prepared for the tiny murder machine that followed dutifully at her heels.

Y’sanna herself strode across the brutalized remains of the camp with swift, confident steps and came to a stop at her carbuncle’s side as it liberated the now-dead kobold’s spine from its carcass.

“Enough,” she chastised the creature, nudging it with her boot. It hissed up at her, but did as instructed, dropping the bone to the ground with an audible thump.

Nero shot a smirk her way as the creature dutifully returned to her side, the miqo’te giving a rather bored examination of the carnage and viscera.

“Why so glum? After all, you are so marvellous when you put paint to canvas,” he remarked in his typical snide tone.

Y’sanna glanced back his way, staring for a good long moment before a snarl parsed her lips. “Your cheer doesn’t fool me, Tribunus. I know full well you’d rather be working on your toy, or like me, doing what we actually came here to do.”

“Is that right? You sound remarkably dissatisfied with our Legate’s command.”

“Was it not you who brought me here to deal with the creature?” Y’sanna shot back. “There is still much to study and learn, so much untapped potential in that little equine form… Yet here we are, tidying away the muck and doing busywork far more suited to the rank and file.”

“Yes, well, it is, unfortunately, Lord Gaius’ prerogative to see my boundless talent, and your unique breed of savagery, put to use culling the natives and fanning Titan’s rage. Oh well, at least the lug will provide some data for use in the Ultima Weapon, hopefully of far more use than that pitiful display Ifrit put on for us.”

“Forget Titan, that pony-”

“Is not going anywhere, bedridden as our ascian friend so reports.”

“And what better time is there to claim her?”

“Aside from her being behind a wall of Alliance riff-raff?” Nero questioned. “And with Rhitatyn breathing down our necks to see this done I’d rather see it finished and be back to our own affairs with little drama besides.”

Y’sanna gave a huff of frustration, her eyes focusing on the body of a fallen kobold nearby. She marched towards it as Nero continued to watch, driving her boot into the creature’s stomach with more than enough force to crack a rib or two. Whether she was checking or merely letting loose frustration he couldn’t entirely say, though it was likely somewhere between the two.

“Well, good thing we’re about done here, then. You’d think with the blood we’ve already let flow, the beasts would have more than enough motivation to let loose their so-called god.”

“Hm, I do believe you’re right. Though what’s one more village for certainty?” he noted dispassionately. “And with the Scions merrily off to save the day and slay it, you may yet get your chance to slip in and claim your prize.”

“Good. I’m quite finished playing around, and all the better if that white-haired harpy is otherwise engaged.”

Nero crossed his arms, staring knowingly at the woman. “The Archon? My, you do seem to have a particular loathing for that one, don’t you? I’d think you’d have a much softer disposition for your countryman.”

“She’s no countryman of mine!” Y’sanna bellowed dangerously, stomping towards Nero before catching herself and ceasing her march. “I… What I mean to say is Garlemald is my country, Sharlayan be damned.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it…” Nero mocked. “Whatever rivalry you hold for her, I truly couldn’t care less. In fact, boredom approaches just conversing on the matter. So do remember your duty and, when the time comes, see Twilight Sparkle brought to me safe and sound. We still have so many things to… discuss.”

Her eye twitched, her hand forming into a fist. And yet whatever protestations towards his mockery welled within her died a quick death, and resignation flashed across her face as her rage bled away with a sigh.

“Yes yes, I know all too well what needs to be done. The creature takes all priority, and when we unlock her secrets I’ll be perfectly content knowing what we discover will raise us above the hapless fools around us.”

“Indeed. Secrets and wonders… Oh, the thought is tantalizing… And I’m sure you’ll get some small credit for my future innovations, presuming you remain a good girl whose usefulness doesn’t so much as falter.”

The twitch returned. “You-”

“Murderers! Thieves! Criminals! You’ll receive Titan’s fury for what you have done!”

The high-pitched shriek of a kobold’s voice ended the tense discussion. Nero turned to the remains of one of the Kobold’s homes as a handful of the pitiful beastmen came rocketing towards him from within, pickaxes in hand. He let out a tired sigh as the first of the creatures came bearing down on him.

‘Idiot.’

In one swift movement, Nero’s hand flashed to the hilt of his gunblade on his back. With a flicker of silver in the air, the blade bit deep into the kobold’s belly, parting the creature into two parts that sailed harmlessly past him. The swiftness of his strike came as a surprise to the next one in line. It staggered to a halt, its eyes widening with terror behind the grates of its metallic mask.

It looked young. Barely an adult. But Nero did not find it in him to care about that. It had dared to charge him, and now it would pay the price, both for its hostility, and its idiotic hesitation. The creature barely had a chance to utter the beginnings of a desperate plea before Nero’s blade found the gap in its faceplate. Its cries cut off with a gurgle, and it fell limp on the end of Nero’s blade.

The next kobold had a window of opportunity, and it leapt from Nero’s side. He turned to it, realizing that it was just a little too close for him to use his sword. He raised his hand to bat it aside, bracing himself to deal with its sharp claws.

It never reached him.

A blur of crimson barreled into the kobold, knocking it out of the air with a grunt of pain. Nero watched as the carbuncle hooked its unnaturally long fangs into the kobold’s shoulder, eliciting an agonized squeal from it. Knowing that the kobold was done for, he turned his attention back to the rest of their attackers. Two kobolds remained. One of them had a long shovel in its hands, pointing it at him like a spear.

“Oh, come now…” Nero mocked, pointing the tip of his sword at it in turn. He casually rested his finger on the trigger. “You saw how that went for your friends.”

“Murderer! Butcher! Killer!” the kobold shot back. “Why do you do this?! Why does man always do this?! We just want to live in peace! Safety, happiness, PEACE!”

“And yet you worship Titan,” Nero rebuked with a shrug. “Peace was never an option.”

The kobold roared and charged. It didn’t make it two steps before Nero pulled the trigger, and the kobold dropped.

That left only one. Nero turned as it barreled for Y’sanna. She awaited it with a fanged smirk, hand already prying her tome from her side. A rush of yellow and crimson magick rushed from the pages, striking the kobold as it prepared to leap. It faltered in place, loosing a pained gasp. Its skin began to grow tighter against its withering muscles, and Nero realized that Y’sanna was draining the life from the pitiful creature.

She approached the kobold as it slumped to its knees, her free hand pulling a standard issue garlean combat dagger from somewhere in her uniform. She knelt in front of the Kobold, meeting its gaze. “Only the stupid or the desperate charge when they know they cannot win,” she remarked casually, holding the blade up to its throat. “Which are you?”

The kobold did not speak, but Nero did not miss how its eyes darted toward the house it and its comrades had emerged from.

Y’sanna caught the movement, too, her grin growing sadistic. “Excellent.”

Slit.

The kobold collapsed to the ground, a geyser of red falling out of the new hole in its throat. It let out one last pitiful gurgle before falling still at Y’sanna’s feet. She rose to her full height, her carbuncle returning to her side, its face smeared with fresh blood yet again.

The whole exchange had only taken seconds. The rest of the soldiers accompanying them hadn’t even had time to join the fight before it ended. Of course, for them to join, there first would have needed to be a fight in the first place. This was just a slaughter.

Nero sheathed his blade on his back after wiping the blood off on the grass. “You believe there are others?” he asked curiously.

Y’sanna didn’t say a word. She simply nodded to her carbuncle. With a feral growl, it snapped into motion, vanishing into the confines of the metallic home. A second later, there was a loud crash and an even higher-pitched squeal of panic. Panic turned to pain, and a moment later, Y’sanna’s monster dragged a tiny child of a kobold out of the home on its back. It kicked and thrashed, but it could not escape the carbuncle’s fangs.

“Good girl,” Y’sanna said to her carbuncle as it deposited the child at her feet. She knelt down to pet her monstrosity behind the ears, drawing a content purr from it, before looking down at the child.

Nero crossed his arms and watched, interested in what the savage had in mind for the kid.

“Please, please! Don’t hurt me!” the child begged, curling into a ball on the ground and covering its head. “I surrender! Give up, quit, surrender!”

To Nero’s surprise, Y’sanna actually shushed the creature in a soothing voice. She reached her hand down to stroke the back of the Kobold’s head as if to comfort it. He raised an eyebrow but did not move to interfere.

“What is she doing?” one of the other soldiers asked, finally arriving on the scene, his weapon drawn. “Why does that beast draw breath?”

“Let her work,” Nero cut the soldier off.

After a few seconds, the child finally managed to look up at Y’sanna.

She smiled at it. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“No. I won’t…” she nodded down at her carbuncle. “She will.”

The carbuncle bristled, baring its teeth. The child whimpered, cringing away from it, but could not retreat with Y’sanna’s hand on it. “N-no! Please! I’ll do anything you want! I beg of you! Plead, grovel, beg!”

Y’sanna’s smile grew. “Anything?”

“YES! Anything! I don’t want to die!”

Y’sanna rose to her full height, staring down at the kobold over her nose. “Good. Then go. Find your masters, and tell them we are coming for them. Tell them that if they have any desire to see another day, then they will summon the Lord of Crags. Do but this, and your life will be spared.”

The kobold nodded frantically. “I-I will! I’ll tell them!”

“Good. Now go. My pet is hungry, and she so loves young meat.”

With that, the kobold scrambled to its feet and sprinted off into the forest, its mournful cries echoing across the now fully-dead village for several seconds before fading into silence.

“Why did you let it go?!” the nameless soldier demanded. “It’s a beast!”

Y’sanna turned to glare at him. “Don’t question your betters, Private.”

The soldier, however, stood his ground. “Betters?! You?! It is you who needs to remember your place, savage! I will never understand what possessed Lord Van Baelsar to allow creatures like you so high in our ranks, but I refuse to remain silent on the matter!”

Y’sanna narrowed her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and quirked her hip casually. She turned to Nero. “Sir?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“My pet is hungry…”

Nero got the idea. He shrugged noncommittally. “Then it may eat.”

Y’sanna grinned, and the soldier took a step back. “W-what are you-”

He didn’t get to say anything else. The carbuncle charged forward as if on its own accord and leapt upon the uppity Private. In one swift motion, the carbuncle sank its fangs into his throat, silencing his dissenting cries. He toppled back to the ground, gurgling as the carbuncle enjoyed another meal.

Suffice it to say, not a single word emerged from the rest of the squad.

“Well, this is all very dramatic…” Nero remarked. “But I do tire of this. I believe that child’s message ought to suffice as the final push for the moment, and with Titan’s arrival on the horizon I should prepare for my part in this little experiment.”

“Well, do not let me stand in your way,” the miqo’te sneered, paying little mind to the feasting familiar beside her. “And if that is your wish, then I’ll take my men and prepare to do my part. Assuming there are no further objections?”

“N-no, Primus!” one of her soldiers stammered out. “We follow for the glory of Garlemald!”

“Good. I am so glad we remain on the same page, and we have much work to be done,” she purred, revelling as the soldiers all recoiled away from her in a display of fear. “Oh, and would the Tribunus Livia sas Junius be ready for her part in things? I would hate for there to be loose ends.”

“Our newest source of information has proven reliable: they move on the Waking Sands as we speak,” Nero confirmed. “Say what you will of Lahabrea, but he does have a way of extracting the right data from the most difficult sources. Speaking of, I do believe he’ll be joining me on this little excursion. How thrilling.”

“Then I trust you’ll be dealing with the Archon and that adventurer while I’m busy kidnapping their little friend.”

“Truth be told, I know not what the ascian intends. But my focus is the primal, the rest is for others to manage.”

“Then I’ll be sure to leave them a parting gift should they end up interfering. And on that note, I must be off. Grand discoveries and the research of the age will not wait on account of your illustrious company.”

“Oh, my heart does weep,” he scoffed in turn. “Run along, little kitten. You have a mouse to catch.”

“Hmph.” Y’sanna turned from him, beginning to saunter away from the site of their most recent atrocity. “Carbuncle, come.”

Dutifully, the carbuncle stopped mid-meal and plodded along after its master. The rest of the Primus’ men all shared nervous glances as they regarded their fallen comrade, before falling into step behind the woman with a particular eagerness not to join him.

Nero watched them leave, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether this savage with lofty ambitions could truly be trusted for the job. Alas, what was done was done, and there was little left to do but wait and see if she was worth the armour she wore and the modicum of trust he had placed in her. And if she wasn’t, well, he would certainly enjoy the following humiliation. They were always perfect reminders of others’ inferiority and mundanity. It was quite pitiful, really.

“She was your selection. If you should doubt, then perhaps my faith in you was too misplaced.”

There was a gust of a wind and a pulse of darkness that briefly darkened the world, and when Nero turned, there stood about what he had come to expect. An ascian, mask as dark as the robes he wore, staring at him with what he imagined to be expectant eyes.

“Scarmiglione, to what do I owe the pleasure? And forgive me if we are to be brief, but I do have places to be.”

Scarmiglione stepped forward, eyeing the surrounding carnage with a distant disinterest. “So it would appear… the Legatus has been keeping you busy, I see.”

Nero shrugged. “We operate without the Emperor’s consent in this campaign. We’re all busy.”

Scarmiglione’s lip twitched slightly up, a knowing look crossing over his features. “Indeed… such a pity Emperor Solus does not share Gaius’ ambitions…” he said, and Nero immediately picked up on his tone. The Ascian clearly knew something he did not.

Before Nero could press the subject, however, Scarmiglione pressed on. “Regardless. I am certain your new associate will find ample time to retrieve your quarry. But in the meantime, there is one other favour I would ask of you.”

Nero watched curiously as Scarmiglione reached into a pocket hidden somewhere in his robes. He withdrew a strange, star-shaped crystal, bright hot pink in colour, and glowing with a gentle, soothing light. Nero quirked a brow. “And what is that?”

Scarmiglione held the crystal in his hand, an almost reverent look coming over his face. “...For a place far from here, it is hope incarnate…” he said softly. Nero was about to question that, but again, Scarmiglione cut him off. The ascian held the crystal out to him, his expression hardening. “But for you, Nero, it is but another project. I need this crystal’s secrets to be unravelled, but, much as your own superiors keep you from your ambitions with their meddling, so too do mine. I would entrust this crystal into your care, and ask that you find a way to peel back the veils of its power.”

Nero took the crystal in his hand. He blinked in surprise. It was impossibly smooth and warm to the touch—a gentle warmth, like waking up in a moderate climate, snuggled in one’s favourite blanket. It was soothing just to hold it. That alone made him question the ascian’s interest in it. Such questions were banished, however, when he realized what the crystal’s shape was.

He glanced at Scarmiglione. “I take it this little trinket has to do with the alicorn. What was her name? Twilight Sparkle?”

Scarmiglione nodded. “Yes. This crystal is, by rights, hers. It is the source of a power that well transcends even her considerable potential by orders of magnitude.”

Nero let out a low whistle. “Oh? Forgive me for being sceptical of such a claim. Was it not you who told me that the power of an alicorn was the power to churn the heavens themselves?”

“I did. But this power is different. The sort of power to fundamentally alter the laws of reality itself. To rewrite that which has been tainted, purify that which has been corrupted. To set right that which has gone so terribly, terribly wrong. Such a power would be of great use to me.”

Nero eyed the Ascian for a moment, the gears turning in his head. While his claims were predictably cryptic, he could not deny that he was intrigued. And his own readings of Twilight’s power had hinted at a veritable ocean of energy just waiting to be unleashed. If the same were true of this crystal, then…

“Tell me, then, Scarmiglione. What do you offer me in exchange for my cooperation on this artefact?” he asked, casually tossing the crystal up and down in his hand. “Because it sounds to me like such a power could serve the empire very well.”

“Indeed it could,” Scarmiglione confessed. “In curing your afflicted soldiers of the eikon’s corruption, it could be invaluable. And the vastness of its power is such that I do not doubt it could be equitably shared between us.”

“You? Share?” Nero questioned doubtfully.

Scarmiglione smiled. “I am an Ascian. But I was once just like you. I have not forgotten my roots. And if it will further the ends of my masters and I, then I am happy to join hands with those I once walked beside.”

Nero eyes Scarmiglione for a moment, weighing his options. He wouldn’t be able to run any meaningful tests on this crystal until he got back to the Praetorium, and that would be quite some time from now. He was half-tempted to return the crystal to Scarmiglione, but the connection this crystal had to Twilight made him reluctant. She was capable of so much more than she knew. If this crystal was even remotely like her…

“Very well,” Nero finally conceded, pocketing the crystal. “I shall tend to this little trinket. But only because this is an extension of our previous deal. I would thank you to not alter it any further.”

Scariglione smirked. “Oh, do not worry. If any other unknown elements rear their heads, I shall tend to them myself. Now, I leave you to your work.”

Scarmiglione turned, already radiating the dark energy required for him to take his leave. He paused for a moment, however. Suddenly, the ascian spun around, extending his right hand out. A crimson ball of crackling aether formed in his palm. Nero’s eyes widened, and his hand went for his sword, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Luckily for him, the blast had a different target.

The crimson ball shot by Nero’s head, and he felt one of the bolts of energy tickling his cheek as it passed. The spell exploded behind him, kicking up a cloud of dust… and drawing a short-lived cry of pain. Alarmed, Nero spun around. As the dust from the spell cleared, Nero saw the now charred remains of one last kobold, curled in a heap in a small crater that had been blasted into the ground.

“You missed one,” Scarmiglione smugly told him. Nero turned to the Ascian, only to find that he was already gone. Only a few fading wisps of darkness remained to tell of his presence.

Nero scoffed and lowered his hand. “Arrogant prick.”

17 - Flash of Crimson

“I still don’t like this…” Twilight grumbled irritably as she stalked after Y’shtola. The two were in the middle of Camp Bronze Lake, marching by the Aetheryte. It had been a few days since Twilight regained consciousness, and the time had come at last for the fight to be taken to Titan. Down a flight of stairs from the plaza, a collection of dressed and armed Maelstrom soldiers stood waiting to accompany the Scion.

Y’shtola paused and turned to face Twilight. “I know you don’t. Were you in better condition, I would not hesitate to bring you. But your wound yet lingers, and your spellcraft will want for power given the strain it would place on your body.”

Twilight snorted, swiping her tail from side to side to convey her frustration. “I just… I hate letting you go into danger like this. I promised to help the Scions when we met. It just feels wrong to sit here and soak up the hot spring while you and him run off to fight a mountain god.”

Y’shtola offered Twilight a tender smile, then knelt down to be at the alicorn’s eye level. “I am aware. But you cannot satisfy that oath if you throw your life away. Besides, you need not prove anything to me. You proved your compassion when you helped save those sailors and the sahagin child, and you proved your mettle in battle with both Ifrit and the Empire. Some time spent healing will not make us think less of you. Or me, if that is your concern.”

Twilight pouted at her. She had really been trying to forget that Y’shtola had been so sceptical of her for so long. She let off a tired sigh and turned away. “I know, I know… it’s not about proving something. It’s about being there for my friends,” she said. Her mind briefly wandered back to her friends in Equestria, and again she wondered how they were handling her disappearance.

Y’shtola reached out to ruffle Twilight’s mane, drawing an indignant grunt out of her. “We cannot be everywhere at once, princess,” she said in a soft tone.

The two were quiet for a few seconds, and Twilight managed to give Y’shtola a small smile. “Alright… you just make sure you come back, alive and not tempered. Otherwise, I will ground you.”

Y’shtola’s smile turned into a cocky smirk. “Oh? Brave words from a little pony.”

“I think you’ll find I’m average height,” Twilight shot back without missing a beat. “And someday I’m going to be taller than you, just you wait!”

“Ha.”

Before the two could banter any further, the sound of armoured footsteps drew their attention. Twilight looked past Y’shtola to see a slender miqo’te woman dressed in Maelstrom red approaching. Her garb and hat marked her as an officer. She threw a quick salute. “Scion, we’re ready to move out. Are you prepared?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. I’ll be only a moment.”

The officer gave a sharp nod before turning to return to the assembled troops. Y’shtola turned back to Twilight, her expression hardening. “Duty calls. I shall return ere long, of that you have my word.”

Twilight took a deep breath. She still didn’t like it, but there was nothing else for it. A hoof wandered up to her bandaged chest, and she forced herself to believe that Y’shtola and their friend would be fine. That Titan would fall like Ifrit before him. She pushed her hoof away, letting the breath out, and gave Y’shtola a confident smile. “Alright. Good luck.”

“And you as well. Follow the chirurgeon's instructions. I’ll know if you do not.”

Twilight opened her mouth to make some joking counter, but Y’shtola had already turned and begun walking for the assembled soldiers at a brisk pace. Several were mounted on their chocobos, and before long, Y’shtola joined them on one such bird. A single shout from the commander of the unit was all that was required before the whole troop set off, spurring their mounts to full sprints that took them out of Bronze Lake in a flurry of feathers and kwehs.

Twilight watched her go. The silence that fell in the wake of their absence was heavy and profound, settling on her shoulders like a heavy blanket made of rocks. Her ears drooped. “Be safe…”

And then she was alone once more. Her only company now was the denizens of the camp, more than a few of which were giving her sidelong glances in what they probably assumed was subtlety. A stranger in a strange land, with her few friends in this world off fighting a hulking brute with a penchant for landslides.

‘They will be fine… They will be fine…’

Twilight let out a breath, letting the general ambience of her environment wash over her.

She had to admit, she’d never really taken a moment to appreciate the landscape of La Noscea. Wherever she went, there seemed to be a constant salty smell in the air, the kind you would get during a pleasant beachside visit. Not that many people were paddling into the sea and making sand castles, beyond those frequenting the camp’s myriad spas anyway.

But still, without the pressing business of ascians, imperials or beast tribes, there was a serene beauty about this place. She could see why the Lominsans fought so hard for it, why they chose this place to be their home.

If only they could learn to share a little more, that beauty would be far less fleeting…

The alicorn sighed again, her horn lighting up as her book of spells loyally flew to her side. She flipped it open, examining the tome’s contents halfheartedly. She then gave a glance back at the cabin she’d been holed up in since the incident that had left her bandaged up like an ancient mummy from Somnabula, momentarily considering just trotting back to bed and waiting for news.

But the heavens themselves, perhaps even the Twelve if they truly existed, all knew that she’d just go a ‘little’ crazy confined like that for another minute. No, better she use this time productively!

She was Twilight Sparkle, for Celestia’s sake! If there was one thing she was good at, it was productivity! And books! Fortunately, she happened to have both…

“Okay, if this is how we’re going to play it, let’s get some practice in…” she spoke aloud, turning back to the first spell the book contained, magical light springing forth from the book with far more ease than the first time she had attempted this spell.

As she turned the pages away and let the magic take root, the familiar shape of a cyan carbuncle sprang from the aetheric embers and landed on the cobble with an adorable squeak. Its beady eyes stared up at her expectantly.

“Well, I guess it’s just the two of us for now. Sorry I haven’t summoned you in a while, been busy pretending to be you,” Twilight said to the faux canine. “So, what do you say, want to go practice?”

Carbuncle gave a little hop in place, the happy bounce being a clear enough indicator of agreement. Now they just needed a place to do this with minimal distraction…

Her focus returned to the all-too-many eavesdroppers around camp, being unable to suppress a small groan as she did so. As nice as it was to walk around with her own fur on display, it certainly had its drawbacks—not exactly unexpected drawbacks, but still, hardly the environment for an in-depth study on the theories and practicalities of two worlds’ magics and their joint applications.

She had a thesis to mentally write and she needed her space!

“I’m sure Y’shtola won’t mind me wandering off a little bit, right?” she asked her carbuncle.

The familiar frowned, giving a low whine that gave her all the answer she needed.

“Oh, come on! It won’t be that far! Just down to the beach over there, still perfectly within sight of the camp if anything were to happen! I’m not a foal!”

The next whimper seemed almost doubtful.

“You listen to her way too much,” the pony huffed. “Come on, you’ll see!”

She began to trot away without giving her creation another moment to protest, the carbuncle nervously watching her go before rolling its eyes and waddling off after its master.

The Wanderer’s Palace was a fascinating structure for Twilight to behold as she practised her spells. The water of the beach rose up to her fetlocks, the stones of various ancient roadways poking up from the salty surface at semi-regular intervals. The alicorn and her familiar had managed to find a particularly wide tree on the beach, its leaves having long since fallen away and its trunk waterlogged. All the same, it made for an excellent training dummy.

Twilight furrowed her brow with concentration as she unleashed another cast of Ruin. The spherical ball of energy smashed into the bark of the tree, blasting a hole in the trunk and sending shards of wood and soggy sawdust scattering into the shallow water. Twilight let off a breath she had been holding in, then winced at a small sting in her breast from the exertion of the cast.

“Alright… I think I have that spell about as good as I can get it,” she mumbled, flipping through her book to search for something she had less practice with. There were several spells she could cast through her carbuncle that would change its aspect from one element to another, but she wasn’t sure she could pull those off just yet. There was a version of Ruin called ’outburst’ that affected a wider area but was weaker pound-for-pound.

She still wasn’t keen on causing harm, though. Ideally, she would be keeping her friends and allies safe from harm on the battlefield. So maybe… Her eyes scanned the next page until she caught sight of an illustration of a humanoid form surrounded by a series of glowing hexagons. The label marked the spell as ‘Radiant Aegis.’

That sounded promising. Reading over the description, Twilight smiled. The spell would be channelled through her carbuncle, but the end result would be a powerful barrier that could absorb incoming attacks.

“Alright! A barrier spell!” she cheered, her wings giving a quick flap. Excited, she quickly read over the geometric patterns and the incantation required to invoke the spell. It only took her mind a moment to get it down, and so all that was left was to attempt to cast it.

Closing her eyes, she focused. She could feel the tether between her and her carbuncle thrumming with energy, and her muscles tensed in response to the flow of aether. The patterns formed in her mind, triangles and polyhedrons and blocks and other patterns for which no proper name existed. They interlocked in her mind like a jigsaw puzzle, and after only a handful of seconds, formed a perfect image.

The tether flared, and Twilight heard the swirl of magic from her carbuncle before she saw it. She opened her eyes just in time to see it leap into the air, flipping in place, before the red patch on its forehead burst with brilliant light. In the same instant, a series of hexagons made of pure light rose in a perfect sphere around Twilight, the air filled with a sound like shattering glass played in reverse. The sphere solidified, pulsed, and then faded into invisibility. The only sign that it was there to Twilight’s eyes was a faint distortion in the air around her, following the contours of the various hexagons.

She could, however, certainly feel it. It was flimsy, and she doubted it could do much more than deflect a single bullet, but given her experience so far the act of blocking one bullet might be all she would need.

She held her breath for a moment, concentrating on holding the spell in place, then let it out and released the barrier. It crumbled around her with a faint shimmer. The moment it was gone, a sudden rush of tiredness came over her, and Twilight fell to her haunches with a grunt. The pain in her chest flared, and she winced involuntarily.

Her Carbuncle was quick to bound up to her, rubbing against her side with a concerned squeaking noise. Twilight smiled at it and gave it a pet. “Heh. I’m alright. I just need to practice that spell a little more, that’s all. Not used to it yet.”

The Carbuncle purred softly and shoved its nose into her hoof, demanding pets. Twilight rolled her eyes and obliged, scratching her creation behind the ears while she caught her breath.

She sat there in silence for a moment before looking off at the Wanderer’s Palace again. She had yet to really get a proper education on the people of Nym. Y’shtola had only mentioned that they had existed in the previous Astral Era before being eradicated in the same floods that marked the Sixth Umbral Calamity.

She would have to do some more research into them. Maybe there was a local expert on the subject back in camp? She could look around after she was done practising.

Her eyes wandered, taking in the distant shore. Soon enough, her eyes fell on a cliff that overlooked the water of the lake not far from where she was. It was marked with trees, but what caught her attention was…

Twilight sprang to her hooves as a rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. A humanoid figure stood on that cliff-side, clad in the familiar dark robes of the Ascians. He was staring down at her from behind a familiar black mask, arms crossed.

Twilight took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. It was him. It had to be. The Ascian that had stolen her Element!

In a flash, she lifted her book and re-cast the Aegis, forming the patterns in a fraction of a second. The barrier formed around her as she braced for the dark-robed man to approach. But nothing of the sort happened. He simply stared down at her. Studying her.

Twilight felt torn. This was the man responsible for everything bad that had happened to her since she had arrived in Eorzea. If he was here, then this was her best chance of getting her Element back. But at the same time…

The sting in her chest flared up from the exertion of her spell, reminding her that she was not fit to fight. She took a hesitant step back, never taking her eyes off him. His gaze then shifted past her to the towering peak of O’ghomoro. She followed his gaze, and her heart dropped. That was where Y’shtola was heading.

She turned back to the Ascian just in time to see the shadows gathering to whisk him away.

“Wait! Come back!” Twilight shouted, turning her tome forward and loosing a Ruin spell toward him. Unfortunately, he was faster and vanished into the aether long before the spell could reach him. Twilight’s Aegis shattered from the exertion, and she staggered back, gasping for breath with a hoof flying up to her chest.

Intellectually, she knew she needed to return to camp and see the chirurgeons. She was getting dangerously close to re-opening her old wound. But emotionally, she was in a panic. The Ascian must have been going after Y’shtola, who would have no idea.

“I have to warn her,” Twilight growled, putting her book away and breaking into a mad gallop down the path she knew the chocobos had taken. She might not have had the long legs the horse-birds did, but she could make up for it by having more legs.

So she ran. And she ran. And she ran some more. In the end, it was instinct that drove her more than anything, and even as her wound burned and bled once more she didn’t stop for anything. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Thirty. Almost an hour to where she believed the troops had been heading.

And somehow, in the mix of it all, her Carbuncle loyally kept pace. Maybe it didn’t even get tired at all, but that observation barely made it to the surface even as it yipped in constant alarm at its master’s mad rush away from the safety of the camp.

No small part of her knew this was a stupid move. She should’ve taken the time to get backup, to tell someone. But in the moment she had acted, and now she could do little more than keep going. If she could just reach Y’shtola then all would be fine… It would. Together they would make it. But if that monster got her all alone…

What was he planning? Why was he here now? So many questions and still infuriatingly few answers. But he was here, just a little further and-

“ACK!”

She stopped in her tracks as something made a jump at her. Thanks to her speed, though, she lost balance as she skidded to a halt and tumbled into the dirt. Whatever made a go at her sailed clear overhead with a frustrated growl.

Twilight groaned in a daze, vaguely hearing her carbuncle yelping in surprise as it rushed to her side. She stirred, her wound absolutely searing with pain as she forced herself to rise once more. She cast her eyes about, studying her surroundings and looking for her assailant.

She was so close to where the Y’shtola and the others were supposed to be going. An aetheryte employed by the Kobolds to move swiftly to and from the surface. Up ahead along the dirt road was a series of rocky trenches she’d heard mentioned by both Y’shtola and myriad soldiers and adventurers going along with this endeavour. Her friend was in there… But what had…?

She turned her attention from her up-and-coming destination to see what had attempted to snap her head off. Her blood went cold at what she saw.

It was the blood-coloured carbuncle, the same one that had attacked her and Y’shtola alongside the imperials back in Thanalan. It circled Twilight and her own familiar with a ravenous, hungry fury, and Twilight became vividly aware of its razor-sharp fangs. And its eyes… there was no pity to be found there, no compassion or mercy. It took but a glance to know that this creature was little more than a rabid beast, and she was its prey…

Twilight’s own carbuncle growled back, but she couldn’t hope but notice and even feel the twinge of fear that shivered down its form.

And with the memory of their last encounter still as fresh as the physical wound she bore, she immediately started searching for the creator of this abomination.

She found her.

Or, rather, she found Twilight.

From behind a cluster of nearby rocks stepped a miqo’te, one with red braided hair and hateful blue eyes that glared at Twilight just as hungrily as the crimson carbuncle. Her armour was imperial, there was no doubt, with a resemblance to that commander she had… dealt with previously, but stripped down, lighter. A tome not unlike Twilight’s own was strapped to her side. The woman stopped a short distance behind her familiar and struck a casual pose as she regarded the alicorn.

“Well, it’s about bleeding time,” the imperial scoffed. “And really bleeding at that. Didn’t the harpy tell you to take care of yourself? I suppose that ascian was too much bait for a rabid bitch such as you to resist, huh? Well, you have been giving my masters a bit of trouble, so I think it’s time you were brought to heel.”

Twilight winced at her choice of words.

“And… who are you exactly?” the alicorn asked the miqo’te. “You know the ascian?”

“Mostly by reputation. They have a whole archive in Sharlayan dedicated to telling everyone how little we know about them. But they’ve proven useful to the service of Garlemald. Lahabrea, and Scarmiglione—their names, if you didn’t already know.”

“...I’ll take the information.” Lahabrea… The Overlord who tangled with their warrior friend in Gridania. Still, wouldn’t hurt to get a little more information while her lips were loose. “Which is which?”

She cackled at that. “And you call yourself an arcanist? You flail so cluelessly… Scarmiglione would be the one who wants your pretty head, though he doesn’t seem to care if it’s still attached. So, if you want to repay my kindhearted gift of information, you’d come along quietly. I think Lord Nero would be quite thrilled to study you face-to-face.”

“I think I’m good…” Twilight answered, her horn lighting up as she slowly slipped her tome from its bindings. Her eyes darted around, the miqo’te was right in her path and she was in no position to put up a heavy fight… “My name is Twilight Sparkle, by the way. Might I have yours?”

“Hmph. Y’sanna rem Extorris, Primus pilus of the XIVth Imperial Legion under Legatus Gaius van Baelsar. Former scholar of Sharlayan, a graduate of the Studium, and really quite clever overall. I would rethink your refusal. I won’t ask again.”

“Sharlayan? Like Y’shtola?”

Twilight knew that was a mistake the moment she saw Y’sanna’s eye twitch, her tome flying into her waiting grasp faster than she could track as a powerful gust of pure magical energies pushed Twilight and her carbuncle back several feet.

“I am NOTHING like her!” she bellowed, already preparing her next spell. “And unlike her, I have a future. And that future is the Empire.”

“But… why!? Why would you help the Empire? You don’t need to do this, I’m no danger to you. We don’t need to fight, I’m sure we could-”

“No, we can’t,” Y’sanna cut her off immediately. “Eorzea is a doomed realm, as are all others that oppose the Empire. Garlemald is an inevitability, and only by siding with them can we hope to see lasting peace. So I am this land’s hope, not you, not the harpy, and certainly not that adventurer you’ve got at your beck and call.”

The magic from her tome intensified, the crimson carbuncle tensing to the moment of action alongside Twilight’s eyes. The alicorn’s mind began to race, glancing over her recently learned list of spells for the perfect one…

“I will enjoy every morsel of knowledge we shall pry from your mind. I will become what no Archon could ever even dream, and then this land will beg me to save it. So thank you, Twilight Sparkle… for giving me all I desire!”

She released the spell she was holding, the rabid carbuncle thrashing forward with its fangs gnashing and biting toward the alicorn, and at that moment all became crimson.

19 - Scholar's Account

The return trip to Camp Bronze Lake somehow felt shorter than the mad dash to catch up to Y’shtola. Twilight chalked it up to her exhaustion and injuries muddying up her perception of time. That and the warmth and companionship from her Carbuncle at her side, occasionally purring or chirping at her to lift her spirits and keep her focused on the road ahead. But either way, they soon found themselves advancing up the steps and through the archway into town.

The moment she was back, Twilight made a beeline back for the hospice she had initially woken up in and the warm hot springs out in front. She gingerly lowered herself into the steaming waters and set her spellbook down behind her, not eager to damage it anymore than it already was. Any pain that had been lingering in her sore muscles and bones was quick to fade away, and Twilight let out a long sigh of relief.

She sat there for quite some time. Her Carbuncle curled up behind her, slowly fading away as it returned to the aetherial waves it called home, leaving her to her thoughts. She kept her eyes closed for most of her time in the pool, just trying to shut out the rest of the world and focus instead on relaxing and clearing her thoughts.

Eventually, when she was nice and pruny from the hot water, she clambered out and found a place to sit on a bench up against the hospice’s outer wall. It was getting on into the afternoon at this point, but there was still no sign of Y’shtola and the Lominsan soldiers. She tried not to concern herself for their wellbeing and turned her attention back to her spellbook.

She frowned at it. It was dry now, but it was still badly damaged, and practically useless. She couldn’t even refer to it to try and figure out how exactly she had conjured up that red version of her carbuncle. She knew about the different gem types it could align with, and the red one would have been Ruby Carbuncle, a version aligned to pure offence and heavily aspected to fire. But she had yet to even begin delving into how conjuring the entity with that aspect worked.

Impulse and instinct, then. Much like how she had managed a healing spell during the battle with Ifrit. With a sigh, Twilight cast the book aside and looked down at the ground, her brow furrowing. She gingerly reached a hoof up to the still throbbing bullet hole in her chest, and her lips pressed together into a pained cringe. After the scuffle with Y’sanna, the fact that Twilight could heal others, but couldn’t rely on them to heal her in the same manner, troubled her greatly.

“What is it?” she wondered aloud, whispering the words tiredly under her breath. “What is it about Eorzean magic that disagrees with me? How can I make it more cooperative? How can I stop myself from being such a liability when these people need me to pull my weight?”

She pondered the subject for quite some time, trying to puzzle out an answer. She went over everything she knew about the spells that had worked on her so far. The Amalj’aa’s sleep spell had knocked her flat, rendering her defenceless and easy prey for Ifrit’s followers. Her glamour spell worked with relative ease whenever she needed it, thanks in large part to the medallion she kept with her to enable it. It wove over and around her flesh, but never penetrated it. An optical illusion, nothing more. Her Radiant Aegis had worked, forming a protective shield around her body to keep it safe from external harm - even if it had been as flimsy as tissue paper.

“Maybe if I were the one casting it?” she thought after a minute, scrunching up her muzzle. “The aether would be coming from me in that case - or at least, I’d be the one calling on it. If I laced it with my own Equestrian magic, maybe then it would work. It might be weakened, watered down, but… Gah! Without my book, I can’t even test these theories!”

It was a matter that would need more consideration. But such wonderings would have to wait, as a moment later, Twilight’s eyes were drawn up by a sudden commotion from the entrance of the town. Grunting with strain, she hauled herself up from her seat and ran up to the nearest railing to get a look. The smile she wore when she saw Y’shtola and the rest of the Lominsan troops returning threatened to reach her ears, and she had to force herself not to try and fly down to meet them. There were trees and sharp rocks beneath this rail, and that would be a very inglorious end.

Not to mention the scolding from Y’shtola. Even death shuddered at such a fate.

So, with that in mind, Twilight decided to not push her luck for a change and remained at the railing. Y’shtola and her escorting host of maelstrom soldiers wandered into town, exchanging words, though Twilight couldn’t help but notice the absence of a certain primal slayer. A fear of the worst outcome briefly crossed her mind, but she quickly calmed herself by noting Y’shtola’s calm demeanour. If the battle with Titan had gone anything other than smoothly, she doubted that the Archon would conduct herself thus.

The alicorn waited patiently as they made their way up the path, Y’shtola speaking some final parting words to the soldiers before breaking off on her own. She made her way up the steps for the Hospice, towards the pools, and her eyes finally glanced up and met Twilight’s. The mare pulled back from the railing and returned to her seat to await Y’shtola’s return.

She didn’t have to wait long. The miqo’te emerged up a nearby staircase and approached Twilight with a relieved smile.

“I see you have managed to control your urge to hurl yourself into danger once more. I trust you have been a receptive student to this lesson?”

“I’m always a receptive student!” Twilight protested with a pout. “...This one just happened to be a lot more painful than most.”

“Indeed. Your wounds?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I was just trying to figure out some magic stuff. Your healing practices versus my own, and just why they don’t seem to be entirely compatible…”

“That is indeed a conundrum. But one for another time. Rest means rest, Twilight Sparkle. You need not stay alert here. Within the borders of this settlement, I do not believe Y’sanna will attempt another strike at you.”

Twilight sighed, recalling her desire to follow up on certain things Y’shtola had said back during their fight with the manic imperial. She had certainly noticed their shared history. It was obvious from their words that they shared a homeland, and maybe even a teacher. Master Matoya? The Studium? There was plenty to learn, both about this new enemy and this world as a whole.

But more importantly, and most pressingly…

“What happened with Titan?” Twilight asked tentatively. “And where is… is he-”

“He’s fine. The Lord of Crags, much like Ifrit, has been slain,” Y’shtola immediately quelled her concerns regarding their friend. “An admirable feat, to say the least. Most would be considered mad to claim to have beaten one primal, but two? With the way he conducts himself, one would be forgiven for thinking he had a history of primal slaying even before the amalj’aa.”

“Maybe he does. Did you ask?”

Y’shtola chuckled. “No, but ‘tis most unlikely, given that I found him as a fresh-faced adventurer during a mutual encounter with a goobue,” she said. She then frowned, her eyes trailing off to one side, and her hand rising up to tap at her chin. “Although, I cannot deny that there has always been something… familiar about him.”

“What do you mean?”

Y’shtola perked up, returning her attention to Twilight. “Ah. This is recent history you would be unfamiliar with. Before the calamity, a group of adventurers was given the moniker ‘Warriors of Light’. They were heroes, who much like our friend made it their profession to slay primals and defend the realm. But in the aftermath of Dalamud’s fall, their faces have been lost to us. Whenever we think of them, they are shrouded in silhouette, lost within a blinding glare. Nary a word has been heard of them since the disaster. Most believe they perished at Carteneu fighting to save Eorzea. History, like I said. But today’s events…”

Y’shtola paused, taking a moment to lower herself down and actually sit next to the little pony. The close proximity almost took her by surprise, even with their improving relationship. But the dark look in Y’shtola’s eyes blocked any comment on the matter.

“...As Titan was slain, and we Scions stood victorious, I arrived in time to witness a troubling sight. Two imperials, Nero tol Scaeva and Rhitahtyn sas Arvina, Tribuni of the XIVth imperial legion under Legatus Gaius van Baelsar. They appeared to be watching the fight, judging Titan’s capabilities.”

“Judging? They didn’t attack as Y’sanna did with us?”

“Nay, they merely observed. From what little I could hear, they were in the midst of a disagreement regarding a project Scaeva was attached to, seeing as his rank would suggest him being the foremost magitek expert in the legion. Yet it was after Arvina had departed that a third figure entered the scene; the ascian encountered in Gridania, Lahabrea.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Lahabrea? The Overlord?”

“Aye. Superior to this ‘Scarmiglione’ no doubt, who is but one of the black masks.”

“Then… if he was here too, is he the one who wants me? If the ascians are working with the Empire?”

Y’shtola frowned. “A disturbing thought, though recent events corroborate it. As for Lahabrea’s interest in you, I cannot say for certain. Perhaps it is the will of the Empire. Perhaps there are other threads yet unexplored. But with your Element of Magic still in their possession, I would not seek to assume any of their intentions, only that they spell a dark omen for Eorzea.”

“...We’ll get it back. Right?”

Y’shtola looked at the alicorn, keeping her silent stare for several moments before offering her a small smile. “Indeed. With two primals dealt with, only Garuda yet poses a threat. With that in mind, I have sent the hero of the hour back to the Waking Sands, and after we finish business with the Admiral here, we should follow. The attempt to capture you should be shared with the others and the interaction may yet hold vital clues.”

Twilight nodded, eager to get back to the Waking Sands and rejoin the others. “Then… we’ll just have to reexamine the facts with the fine eye! And with the rest of our friends, we’ll get a whole host of fresh perspectives that can to new possibilities!”

“A wise sentiment. I trust Urianger would have a thought or two… though he would describe them in a few dozen more words than is strictly needed.”

Y’shtola hummed, cupping her chin as a new thought entered her brain.

“Yet, while we are here, we would do well to make provisions for the future. Had you a means to contact me beforehand, you needn’t have placed yourself in harm’s way. To that end, I would suggest we obtain a linkpearl so you may speak with the Scions wheresoever you may be. That way, whatever the scenario, you will always have an ally to fall back upon.”

“Friends. They are called friends.”

Y’shtola turned back to Twilight with a small smirk. “A synonym. The point remains that if we are to be in such close collaboration, you will require a more reliable means of communicating with us from afar. We can procure one for you once we are back in Limsa Lominsa.”

Twilight raised a brow as something occurred to her. “Wait. Why didn’t we get one for me when we were in the city before?!”

Y’shtola flinched, ear ears twitching down just a little. Her tail gave a few agitated swishes. “...I confess, I had neglected to procure one for you on the grounds that I still did not entirely trust you. And after the encounter with the sahagin, I was too occupied with trying to keep you alive - and our preparations to face Titan - to give the matter any thought. But such concerns have been resolved, and I will allow this oversight to continue no longer.”

Twilight nodded along, shifting on her seat, once again reminded of Y’shtola’s doubts about her. But all things considered, she supposed she couldn’t be too upset. “Alright, that’s fair.”

Y’shtola lowered her hand to her hip. “And while we are at it, we’ll have the chance to also procure a new spellbook for you from the Arcanist’s guild - and perhaps a chance for more professional instruction in the art,” she added, glancing down at the damaged book by Twilight’s side on the bench.

Twilight eyed it for a moment, her ears lowering as she recalled the moments that had rendered the tome so utterly inoperable. “Yeah… on that note, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Y’shtola quirked a brow. “Oh? What is it?”

Twilight leaned forward in her seat slightly, her wings ruffling against her sides. “You and Y’sanna… you two know each other.”

It wasn’t a question, and Twilight was not going to let this bit of information go. Y’shtola was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “We’ve met a handful of times.”

Twilight leaned forward. “Only a handful? The verbal lashing you gave her seemed pretty informed from where I was sitting.”

“Half reputation and half deduction. Y’sanna and I shared a tribe, but precious little else.”

Twilight held Y’shtola’s gaze for several seconds. “Tell me. If she’s trying to kill me, I deserve to know about her,” she said, lifting her head higher.

Y’shtola narrowed her eyes at Twilight for a moment, then relaxed. “Very well. I shall reveal what I know,” she said before returning to sit beside Twilight once again. Her eyes were glued onto the top of the aetheryte, spinning slowly in place in the heart of the settlement. Twilight settled in to listen, her ears facing forward.

A moment later, Y’shtola began.

“Y’sanna and I are from the Y tribe, as I am sure you could guess. We were based out of the hinterlands of Dravania. At an early age, I was accepted into the colony Sharlayan had established in the region, under the training of Master Matoya. Y’sanna was also a student in the colony but to a different master. We spoke on precious few occasions, usually only during time away from our masters to return to our tribe for one fleeting reason or another, or in passing on the streets. She was always a self-assured individual. Confident, to the point of arrogance, and was not the sort to let a slight against her go unpunished. But in spite of that, at least at first, I never had cause to believe she was a problem. She loved her homeland, she loved our tribe, and none were more fiercely dedicated to their protection than she.

“However, as we grew into maturity, and the colony was abandoned in the face of the coming threat of the Empire, something in Y’sanna started to change. She became absorbed in her studies, often on the subject of Garlemald, its history, and its progress. For the first few years, she was a voice in favour of a military response to the threat. When such notions were summarily obliterated by the Forum, she attempted to propose peaceful solutions to the threat. But as the years passed, and Garlemald’s advances across the Three Great Continents continued, her position gradually shifted from one of diplomacy to one of submission.”

Twilight frowned. “She did say she believed the Empire was inevitable…”

Y’shtola nodded. “That she did. And coinciding with her calls for submission, there came a rise in her own hostility. She had always been proud, easily agitated, ruthless, impatient, and selfish. But all of these things got worse and worse over the years. She reached out to grasp strings and powers that were not hers to wield, often treading on the shoes of instructors, researchers, and even members of the Forum itself. She went from an angry if reliable colleague to a genuine, and brutal, problem. Eventually, I heard that she had left Sharlayan of her own accord, not too terribly long before Louisoix led us to Eorzea. None knew where she had gone. I suppose now the answer is clear. She threw her lot in with the Empire.”

Twilight looked down, her ears lowering. “Do you think she was being manipulated by outside forces? Did the Ascians get to her?” she wondered. No other explanation made sense to her. If Y’shtola was right, then Y’sanna had once been just as dedicated a defender of Eorzea as her peers.

Y’shtola shook her head. “No. She was always ambitious - and had a paranoid streak. Were I to make an assumption based on what I know, I would assume that her fear of losing a war with the Empire is what drove her to side with them. Perhaps to spare herself from the pain of it. Or, if I were to be charitable in my view of her, mayhap it was to try and ease the pain on her homeland. In short, she may have betrayed us thinking she was saving us.”

Twilight shook her head in disbelief. “That’s… but that’s wrong. Breaking away from her friends and allies would only make them weaker and easier to destroy. She’s not saving anyone by siding with the invaders, she’s just making their job easier!”

Y’shtola shrugged. “Again, I am merely speculating. Though we were born of the same tribe, we were never close,” she said before rising back to her full height. “Whatever her reasons, she is our enemy now, and her actions are unconscionable. Should we face her again, I won’t hesitate to do what must be done.”

Twilight felt a small pang of uncertainty at that remark, but she bit on her tongue, reminding herself once more that this world was far more violent than her own. The bullet hole in her chest stung in a not-so-subtle reminder of that fact.

“Now, we have much ground to cover,” Y’shtola said, lifting a finger to her ear. “And if we are to be delayed in our return to the Sands, then I would at least inform Minfillia of the basics.”

“A bullet point presentation! Things are bad, let’s make them not bad.”

Y’shtola offered her a bemused glance. “Childishly put. But accurate.”

“I was making a joke!”

“Then clearly your next research assignment should be the foundations of comedy.”

Twilight’s eye twitch. “You… are just so mean.”

“A matter of opinion. Now shush,” Y’shtola concluded with a smirk, her fingers pressing against the pearl in her ear. Twilight heard a trio of light ringing sounds emit from the small device. “Minfillia? It’s Y’shtola.”

A moment passed.

And then another.

The ringing sounded again.

Another ten seconds went by in pregnant silence. Y’shola’s smirk gave way to a suspicious frown as her hand finally fell away from her ear.

“Odd…” she murmured.

Twilight frowned, suddenly getting a bad feeling. “What’s wrong?”

Y’shtola glanced at Twilight with concern and confusion in her eyes. “There is no response. I am merely finding dead air.”

“Well… maybe she’s busy? In another big meeting with the other Scions? Thancred? That smaller one, Tataru?” Twilight ventured optimistically.

Y’shtola hummed uncertainly. “Hm… it is possible she is presently receiving reports of the encounter with Titan. Our friend would be arriving by now if he used the aetheryte to Horizon and made good time to Vesper Bay by chocobo… Yet Minfillia has always been punctual. This is most unlike her. Perhaps…”

She pressed the pearl again. And, after another moment of ringing, they were once again left in dead silence.

“...Thancred is likewise silent.”

The bad feeling in Twilight’s gut swelled into a deep pit in her stomach. “Okay… maybe a really busy meeting? Or something else that’s keeping them all occupied in Thanalan?”

Y’shtola didn’t reply, instead, the ringing echoed out once more.

“Yda?” she finally spoke out, focusing on a reply beyond Twilight’s hearing. “Yes, we are still in La Noscea. What of Papalymo? Back to the Sands? You are by yourself? I know you are capable, that’s not what I- …I see. We shall return soon. Should you arrive before us, locate the others. Walk with care.”

She lowered her hand again, letting out a breath that was a strange mix of both relief and mounting worry.

“You got through?” Twilight asked quickly.

“Yes. Yda remains in Gridania for the moment. However, it appears she and Papalymo are walking separate paths for the moment. We should conclude our business here and make haste to meet her back at the Waking Sands. This silence disturbs me. I would have the reason for it.”

The alicorn scuffed the ground nervously. “Do you… how worried should we be…?”

Y’shtola crossed her arms. “I shall keep attempting to contact Minfillia. Twelve willing, there is a reasonable explanation for this silence. But I cannot lie to you, Twilight..”

She looked her dead in the eyes, transmitting the gravity of the situation with one intense glare.

“We shall make haste, for I am extremely worried.”

20 - Scholar's Sorrow

“Is this thing working?” Twilight asked, one hoof held up to her ear, once again glamoured as a lavender paw, and her muzzle scrunching up in a mixture of discomfort and fascination.

The linkpearl in her ear was clearly not designed for her ear shape. It sat loose and uncomfortable, rolling around with every tilt of her head like it was a big ball of ear wax that just refused to fall out. It was driving her crazy.

Thankfully, though, it did fulfil its intended function. A moment later, Y’shtola’s voice crackled through into her ear, slightly muffled and reverberating as if spoken into a dense metal can, but still clearly legible. “Aye, all seems to be in order. Welcome to the Scion’s network, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight’s discomfort over the way the linkpearl fit in her ear evaporated with delight. She turned around, facing away from the wind that a moment ago had been blasting her in the face, and waved frenetically at the miqo’te who stood on the far end of the ship’s top deck.

They were out at sea, having just pushed off from the docks of Limsa Lominsa a handful of hours ago. Their stay in the city had been equal parts boring and delightful. Boring, because much of their time was consumed by meetings with the Admiral and her assorted underlings, dealing with paperwork, and planning follow-up movements in the wake of Titan’s defeat. Delightful because Twilight had gotten to visit the Arcanist’s guild in person!

It had been a treat, and she had a new spell tome at her side, to boot. A few orders of magnitude better than her old one, too, if the tall and friendly roegadyn guild master’s input was anything to go off of. The instructions were clearer, the patterns were better defined, there were more of them, and the cover of the book was laced with aether-imbued threads to greatly amplify the spellcasting capabilities of the wielder.

She even got to break some boxes! It might’ve been immature for her to take such delight in a considerably meagre task, but after recent events, it was cathartic!

Now, though, all of their work in the city was done, and it was time to return to Thanalan. A ship had been chartered for their safe passage, and after making sure Twilight had a linkpearl in her ear, the two had set off once more onto the waves.

“Wow,” Twilight squealed, trotting in place as her mind buzzed with wonder and excitement. “How does this thing work?! Is it sending the sound waves through empty air, or is it simply copying the sounds in one and replicating them in the other? What’s it made of? How do I-”

Y’shtola snickering in amusement drew Twilight’s barrage of questions to an abrupt halt. “Twilight, though I admire your scholarly curiosity, I would strongly advise against using the Linkpearl for such trivial questions. They are to be used for short, concise communications only. Magic and technologies exist in abundance that can listen into, or even disrupt, contact between link pearls, so do use them sparingly. Besides - anyone with one of these on our network may have just heard all of that.”

Twilight blinked, imagining the faces of Thancred, Yda, and Papalymo all grinning at her as she spoke, and a light red tint came to her cheeks. “Er… right. Understood. Um, roger? Over and out? How, how do I… What’s the ‘bye’ term?”

“...You say farewell?” Y’shtola said, more a question than anything else. “We don’t follow so strict a protocol of communication, Twilight. Just take your hoof away from the pearl when you are done speaking.”

Twilight nodded. “Gotcha,” she said, then lowered her hoof. Just like that, the linkpearl went silent in her ear, and across the deck, Y’shtola gave her a nod.

New technology. Exciting.

Twilight turned back to the ocean view before her, the salty wind blasting against her face as the ship pushed through the waves. She took in the view, the endless expanse of rolling blue, and tried to relax. There was still an uncomfortable tingle in her chest where the bullet hole was, and part of her wanted to dive back into studying the physick spell so she could mend it herself. But on a boat, with the deck rocking and rolling beneath her hooves, she’d be more likely to hurl on the pages than learn anything.

“It’ll just have to wait,” she thought. With nothing else to do, she closed her eyes, feeling the wind. It ran over her body in a steady breeze, occasionally twisted by a gust or burst of additional air as they sailed through a wind current.

She was reminded of the sky, and slowly, she unfurled her wings, grateful for the fact that she was still in her carbuncle glamour. As far as anyone seeing her could tell, she was just a purple carbuncle keeping watch at the front of the ship. But for her, for this moment, she felt as if she was flying again. She could feel the wind racing between her feathers, as it did when she took to the air back in Equestria.

She frowned, fondly remembering the lessons on flight that she had gotten from Rainbow Dash. “Staying in the air requires you flap your wings really hard. Ya gotta push the air down enough that it lifts you up, ya know? And ya have to keep your wings flapping at the same time if you want to keep yourself steady. Flapping ‘em out of sync can be good for things like rapid spins and turns, but that’s not somethin’ you wanna try and pull off when you’re just starting.”

“Ya gotta know the wind, too,” Rainbow had gone on. Twilight recalled she had been flying in circles around Twilight at the time, the two of them perched up on a cloud high above Ponyville. “Updrafts. Hot air. Cold air. Gusts, gales, and twisters. Even the slightest shift in the wind can spell disaster for you if you’re not careful. It all kinda becomes automatic once you’ve done it enough, but for you, you’re gonna hafta be micro-managing that stuff. So kinda like you do already, so you’ll be fine.”

Twilight had then tried to fly and promptly got into a brief but very intimate relationship with the grass in her backyard.

Still, the memory pulled a smile to her face, and Twilight’s wings gave a few gentle flaps, trying to recall the exact sensations of her first truly successful flight. Flying had frightened her so much when she’d just been starting out, but as she gained experience and practice, it had become a profoundly liberating experience. Just lifting off, seeing the world from on high… it had made her problems feel so much smaller, so much more manageable.

She flapped her wings again, and she thought she could feel it. The weightlessness, the sensation of her hooves leaving the ground. She flapped her wings again, basking in the wind rushing between her feathers, against her exposed barrel, and under her belly. She scrunched up her muzzle as something occurred to her. There was something in the wind that she hadn’t noticed before. A pattern… like a bee buzzing in her ear in time to a steady drumbeat.

An idea came to her, and Twilight flapped her wings in time to the beat. Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. The buzzing grew more intense, louder in her ears, and she felt the weightlessness even more keenly now.

Somewhere behind her, someone yelped in alarm. “What the?! Is that thing flying?!”

And just like that, Twilight realized that the feeling of weightlessness was not, in fact, a memory. She opened her eyes and looked down. Sure enough, her flapping wings had taken her several feet up and off the deck of the ship, where she was maintaining a steady hover. For a moment, she felt herself starting to panic at the sudden and unexpected lift, but forced herself to concentrate, to keep flapping her wings in time with the rhythm of the wind. Flap. Flap. Flap.

She stayed in place, just over the deck of the ship. She was starting to drift back from the rail as her hover bled the momentum the ship retained, but the fact remained. She was flying.

Her lips split into a wide grin, and not at all caring for the fact that carbuncles were not supposed to talk, spun to face Y’shtola. “Y’shtola! Y’SHTOLA! I’m flying! I figured it out!” she yelled, a surge of excitement and joy overwhelming her.

Y’shtola turned to her, blinking in surprise. She then took a step forward. “Twilight! Watch out for that-”

The mast of the ship smacked into Twilight, drawing a cry of alarm from her and sending her tumbling back down to the deck in a crumpled heap.

Y’shtola cringed. “...mast…”

“I still proclaim sabotage…” Twilight quietly sulked as the faux carbuncle accompanied her ‘master’ off of the ship a few days later, stepping onto the dock of Vesper Bay with an indignant huff. “Someone moved the mast. You can’t prove otherwise.”

“Simple logic is all the proof I require,” Y’shtola retorted, albeit with a pitying smile. “Still, you need not be so upset. ‘Tis a mark of progress, a sign that your body is attuning to the local aetherial currents. Your hard work is bearing fruit, so please, do stop with the pouting.”

“I am not pouting,” Twilight pouted.

“It is merely hidden by the face of your glamour. But I know better. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Hrmph…”

At least they were able to pass off her little display as a parlour trick of sorts. A little ‘song and dance’ weaved into an otherwise ordinary carbuncle…

She wasn’t sure the miqo’te was particularly thrilled to have people thinking that’s what she did with her free time, but it was the least she deserved for that pity smile!

“Stupid always right cat lady…”

Stepping up from the docks, they made quick strides towards the Waking Sands, the structure easily visible even before they had disembarked. And while Twilight had only had the pleasure of visiting the Scions’ headquarters once before, she couldn’t deny a profound sense of relief on seeing it now. It was like how she might’ve felt returning home after a particularly arduous study session back in her days at Celestia’s school.

She couldn’t tell if those days of magical experimentation had had more or less explosions than her time in Eorzea so far…

Still, she was intent on enjoying this feeling of homecoming. Thus far, there were few other places in Eorzea where she had felt truly safe. No ascians. No primals. No mad imperials and their ravenous mockery of a carbuncle. Just her new friends and plenty of time to recover, reflect, and maybe get a bit more flight practice in.

At least, that was her intent. And yet, as they approached the front steps of the Waking Sands, she began to realize that something was off. There was a tense aura in the air around them. People were murmuring in short, anxious whispers as they hurried urgently on with their days. Worse still were the darting, almost paranoid stares directed at the Sands. Fleeting glimpses before bystanders would fearfully avert their gazes and hurry along.

Y’shtola caught onto it too. She halted her advance, her ears twitching as she listened in to snippets of the surrounding conversation. Now anxious, Twilight did the same, perking her ears up and listening.

“-the bodies were taken to… This is a peaceful town! Why come here?”

“Can you believe such a thing would occur here of all-”

“I didn’t see anything. But my neighbour heard the commotion in that building before the guards could respond…”

Yshtola’s hand went to her ear.

“Minfillia. Respond.”

Nothing.

“Thancred.”

Silence.

“...Yda?”

…Dead air.

Twilight’s blood chilled. She had never seen Y’shtola go pale. She’d seemed concerned before, but now… she was scared. The feeling of wrongness swelled into a creeping dread. Something terrible had happened here.

“Y’shtola…?”

“Inside. Now.”

Y’shtola continued for the Sands at a far brisker pace, Twilight able to do little but follow on. She did her best to ignore the curious glances levelling their way as they stepped into the building and an unlit entryway.

No light. No life. Twilight’s eyes first moved towards the nearby table, desperately wanting to find the rambunctious lalafell that served as the receptionist here. Yet Tataru Taru was decidedly missing from her post, and the room was in absolute disarray. Papers scattered, furniture cast aside, and drag marks along the floor heading for the exit.

Y’shtola pressed on, quickly and urgently descending the stairs and into the headquarters proper.

The smell of blood was the first thing to hit.

The second was, once their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the stains themselves. The Waking Sands had become a nightmare house. Host to a slaughter that had happened all too recently. Blood splatters caked the walls and the floors, dark and dried and soaked into each surface. But it was fresh enough to leave the stench of death and terror in the still air.

Twilight gaped at it all, unable to speak. She couldn’t even think through the sudden storm of emotions ravaging her mind. The Scions… Tataru. Thancred. Minfillia. Yda. Papalymo. Urianger. Even the very champion they’d just sent back here…

There were no bodies left. No corpses. Yet even as Twilight’s eyes frantically jolted from one detail to the next, one stood out to her.

Her eyes drifted downwards to an object that had been abandoned in the middle of the corridor. An object with a cylindrical barrel, a bladed rifle that itself was smeared in the blood of its victims.

A Garlean gunblade.

Y’shtola’s hand balled into a shaky fist. “Damn her. Damn her! Damn them all! The attack on you was only one prong of their strike! They had intended from the first to hit all of us. We were so focused on Titan that we were blind to the threat approaching at our own gates! And I sent him walking right into it…”

Twilight swallowed heavily, desperately trying to find a thread of hope in all of the madness. “W-we don’t know if he was here when… Maybe you should try and-” she muttered, lifting a hoof up to her ear.

Y’shtola’s hand caught her wrist, the grip like a vice. “No linkpearl! If the Empire has them, they could well be compromised. If he wasn’t a part of this atrocity then I will not lead another right to him.”

Twilight cringed, her fetlock burning from the force of the miqo’te’s grip. “Y’shtola…” she protested slowly, meeting the woman’s eyes and dispelling her glamour.

A few moments later, Y’shtola let go. She stood up straight, rigid, and her fist clenched so hard that her nails drew blood. She closed her eyes, taking one deep breath after another. It must have been half a minute before she finally had an aura of calm about her. Though the miasma of rage was not so easily quenched…

“The townsfolk mentioned bodies. We need to speak with them,” she finally announced. “If our friends weren’t among the dead then perhaps-”

“HEEYA!”

A clumsy blur accompanied that battle cry, Twilight’s mind too numb to even react as it shot toward Y’shtola. But she was having none of it, expertly sliding to one side and her wand immediately swept up into her grasp. As the attacker shot past her, Y’shtola turned and levelled at weapon at her attacker, already channelling aether.

No further strikes came, though.

“...Yda!?” Twilight spoke first, her eyes flying wide at the sight of the masked woman. The hyur stared right back at them in complete bewilderment.

Yda licked her lips, slowly lowering her fists. She was shaking with adrenaline and emotion. When she spoke, her voice came out in a broken, cracking whisper. “...Twilight? Y’shtola? You’re…?”

“Yda… You are well…?” Y’shtola asked in turn, slowly lowering her wand as relief came over her features. “You did not answer my call. I had assumed that after our last transmission…”

“I… I mean…” Yda started, her lips quivering even as the words left them. Her weapons fell from her hands, clattering against the brick floor below like the falling of a gavel.

All of the energy bled out of her, and she fell to her armoured knees, sobbing into the cold stones beneath her. Twilight stared at her, dumbstruck. The contrast between the dopey but endlessly cheerful woman she had travelled to Gridania with and the broken, weeping mess in front of her twisted her mind and her heart in ways she didn’t want to imagine. It was almost like the rare occasion Pinkie would cry. Or, more commonly, when Fluttershy would. Someone like Yda didn’t deserve this…

Driven by the comparison, Twilight stepped forward and swiftly enveloped the woman in a tight hug, wings and all. Yda returned the embrace, burying her face into Twilight’s shoulder and holding her tight. She was shaking like a leaf, but in spite of that, her grip was firm, vice-like. Twilight forced herself not to care.

“It’s happening again,” Yda whimpered, giving Twilight a squeeze. “I can’t believe… I-it’s not supposed to… w-we were supposed to be…”

Twilight didn’t dare to ask what she meant by ‘again.’ She just kept holding her and running her hoof down the back of Yda’s head.

Y’shtola came up beside them and knelt down, placing a comforting hand on Yda’s back. “Yda. Breathe. You’re safe, now. We’re here,” she said, her voice low and gentle.

Yda shuddered, but after some gentle coaxing from Twilight, she began to do as instructed, breathing in and out, slowing her hyperventilations bit by tiny bit. It felt like forever, and for Twilight it may as well have been, but finally, Yda withdrew from the embrace. She reached a hand up to her mask as if to pull it away so she could clear her eyes. A moment later, she thought better of it and lowered her hand to her lap.

“Do you know what happened?” Y’shtola asked. “The others. Are they alive?”

Yda shuddered, then shrugged. “I… I don’t know. It was like this when I got here. I’ve only been in here for a little while. I’ve turned the whole place upside down, but… th-there’s nobody. Everyone’s gone… All I know is that a bunch of bodies were carted off before I got here, off to be buried in the lichyard near Drybone.”

Twilight swallowed hard, looking around. “How did the empire even get here?” she asked. “I thought this place was hidden.”

Y’shtola frowned. “...If the Ascians are in league with the empire, then who knows the full extent of their reach?” she questioned in a low, dangerous growl. She rose back to her full height a moment later, wiping the blood on her palms off onto her pants.

Yda looked up at her, sniffling again. “W-what do we do?” she asked in a pitiful whimper. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve always had someone with me. Paplymo, or Minfillia, or someone. I don’t… I d-don’t…”

Y’shtola did not answer. Instead, she turned on her feet and walked back the way she had come, her every step punctuated by a hard stomp. Twilight winced, turning back to Yda. The woman looked back down at the floor, shivering uncontrollably and wrapping herself in her own arms as if trying to hug herself.

Twilight shifted on her haunches, trying to think. “We… w-we shouldn’t stay here,” she finally said, rising back to her full height. “If the Empire hit this place, they might come back looking for stragglers. W-we… w-we need to go.”

“Where?” Yda asked, looking up at her again as her voice raised. “Where could we go?! They found us here! Where would possibly be safe?!”

Twilight flinched, taking a step back. “I… I d-don’t know,” she confessed, turning to stare after Y’shtola. Part of her wanted to go after the woman right away, but she held herself back. Y’shtola needed space, if only for a moment. And there may yet still be something here for them to find. Wiping a hoof over her own eyes, Twilight turned back to Yda. “Come on. Help me look around. Maybe there’s something we can still use. Food, maps, weapons, armour. Anything.”

Yda nodded and slowly got back up. “R-right… um… t-the storerooms were this way,” she said before heading down one of the long corridors. Twilight trailed behind her, her eyes drawn inexorably to the bloodstains on the walls. Every mark denoted a place where someone had died. Some of them might have been the friends she had made here. Others belonged to people she had never even heard the names of. People she had never met, and now would never get the chance to meet.

She paused, her eyes glancing down at the imperial gun blade sprawled on the floor.

She had felt many emotions during her time in Eorzea so far. Most of them weren’t good. Fear, confusion, panic, anguish, anger, and so many more. Thrust from one horrific revelation to the next, one gruesome atrocity to another. The only solace she had had were the Scions. This small band of men and women fighting valiantly in an uphill battle to try and put right all that had gone wrong with this world.

And now they were gone. Cut down and murdered right under her nose.

Rising to meet the wellspring of her shock and grief was another emotion. One she was very unaccustomed to feeling.

Hate.

At that moment, she decided she hated the Empire. She hated the ascians. And if an opportunity presented itself, she would make them pay.

Barely stifling a growl, Twilight drove her hoof into the weapon’s blade, snapping it cleanly in half with an echoing clang.

21 - Seekers

Unfortunately, the interior of the Waking Sands had precious little left in the way of salvageable resources. Almost everything of value had either been damaged beyond repair or taken already. The only things Twilight and Yda were able to find scattered amidst the chaos were a map of Eorzea, stained with blood in the corner, and a suit of armour that would not fit any of them.

And smothering it all was the constant stench of death and decay. It chased Twilight everywhere she went, haunting her mind and distracting her thoughts. Again and again, try as she might to suppress them, visions of the Scions being brutally massacred flooded her thoughts and her senses. It was just her imagination, but when deprived of the truth, she couldn’t stop the darker thoughts from swelling more and more.

Eventually, the duo determined there was nothing left to find and so took their leave. A cover of grey clouds had rolled in as they emerged back into the streets of Vesper Bay, a fitting backdrop that lent itself well to the grim aura of the town, and the knife of grief embedded in Twilight’s chest. She cast her eyes about, searching for Y’shtola, and caught sight of her not far away. She was speaking to a couple of townsfolk, a hyur, and a lalafell. Her teal eyes were narrowed with dismay, but she was otherwise the picture of composure.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” Yda suddenly said from Twilight’s side. She turned to look at the woman to see her jaw hanging just slightly open.

Twilight tilted her head. “What do you mean?” she questioned curiously.

Yda pointed to Y’shtola. “That. How she manages to stay so composed after everything that’s just happened. Like, I can tell she’s furious, but she’s not even raising her voice to those people. I don’t know if I could have that kind of restraint after…”

She left the sentence unfinished, not that she had any need to say anymore. Twilight couldn’t deny Yda’s observation. Y’shtola’s composure had slipped only briefly, but now she was calm, focused, and following some form of plan of action. It was admirable, really. “I could stand to learn a thing or two from her,” she thought.

After a moment, Y’shtola nodded to the townsfolk, and they hurried away, clearly unsettled by whatever questions Y’shtola had been asking. The miqo’te spotted the duo watching her, and with a visible slump in her shoulders, made her way back to them.

“What did you find out?” Yda asked hopefully, descending the front steps of the Sands with Twilight close behind her, the alicorn’s glamour once again rippling into place around her body.

Y’shtola shook her head. “Nobody saw anything. Even those who heard the first utterances of the commotion saw no one enter or leave. This says to me that the imperials somehow teleported into the Sands - not at all impossible, considering the ascians that aid them from the shadows. The only question then becomes how they could have found out where the Waking Sands were located…”

“Spies, maybe?” Yda suggested, lifting a finger. “I mean, the Empire is really good at blowing things up with their guns, but they have all kinds of spies and things like that, too.”

“Possible, but highly unlikely,” Y’shtola shook her head. “We are all of us very careful to cover our tracks, and Vesper Bay is remote. Save for its function as a hub of trade with Limsa, it harbours next to no significance. Unless one knew to look here from the first, there would be no reason to give this town more than a passing glance.”

Twilight frowned, her wings twitching angrily against her sides translating to a shudder in her glamour. “So they captured someone?” She ventured carefully. “Pried the information out of them?”

Y’shtola shrugged. “Perhaps… but last I had heard, everyone was accounted for already. No one was missing until now.”

The group fell into silence for several long seconds. Finally, Yda let off a growl of frustration and stomped her metal-clad foot against the cobbled street. “Oh, gods dammit! Why can’t it ever be simple?!” she shouted loud enough to draw the attention of a few passersby.

“Yda, please,” Y’shtola chastised gently, lifting her hand in a placating gesture. “Calm yourself.”

Yda was shaking again, her hands clenching into tight fists. A moment later, she took a long, deep breath, then let it out in a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m just trying to make sense of all of this.”

Twilight nodded. “We all are…”

After another few seconds, Yda spoke up again. “So… what do we do? I mean, we can’t stay here, can we? Twilight thinks we should leave, but I don’t know where else to go…”

Y’shtola hummed, crossing her arms. “It would be unwise to linger here. After what the empire has done, it is not out of the question for them to have placed scouts or other forces nearby to attack again, should any straggling Scions return oblivious to what has happened. But at the same time, if we withdraw, then…”

“Then if anyone does come back,” Twilight said, realizing where Y’shtola was going with this. “They might be wandering right back into a potential ambush.”

“Not to mention the fact that if there’s no one here to get them up to speed, then no one will be able to coordinate what to do!” Yda added helpfully, looking back at the building. “Like… me. If you two hadn’t come along, I’d still be sulking on the floor, helpless.”

Y’shtola nodded slowly, a grim frown settling onto her face. “...Then someone must remain,” she finally determined.

Twilight’s eyes widened. “W-what?” she asked in alarm. “B-but, shouldn’t we stick together?”

“It would be ideal, aye, but our circumstances no longer lend themselves well to that. Yda is right. If there are any survivors who were out on assignment, someone has to be here to work with them and tell them what has happened. If not, then the Scions of The Seventh Dawn, as an organization, is already dead,” Y’shtola explained, though it was clear she had no love for the words she spoke. “The only question that remains is who shall stay…”

Suddenly, Yda lifted her hand into the air. “I will.”

Twilight blinked, turning back to her. “What? Yda-”

“Let’s not beat around the bush here,” Yda cut her off, her voice remarkably firm. “I’m not really going to be of any use to you out there. Aside from my fists, I can’t do basically anything without Papalymo. And right now, much as I would like to, I don’t think that beating people up is the right thing to do. Besides… I want to make sure we don’t lose anyone else. So, I’ll stay. I’ll clean up, I’ll take down any imperial bastards who come knocking, and I’ll warn any Scions who come back to stay away and look for you.”

Twilight stared at Yda for a moment, surprised by how sound her reasoning was. She didn’t like the idea of leaving her here all on her own, but she was smart enough to know that it would do no good for anyone else to stay behind. Twilight was the stranger of the group, still, after all, and Y’shtola would be of better use out in the field.

Y’shtola seemed to mirror those thoughts, and a proud smile crept across her face. “Very well said, Yda. So be it. In the meantime, Twilight and I shall make for Drybone. If the bodies were carted there, mayhap we can gain some insight as to who did the work. After that, there is someone I would have us contact.”

Twilight tilted her head. “Who?”

“A spy of our own, after a fashion. A contact within the imperial army that has been feeding us information on their activities. Our usual meeting point with them is in the foothills north of Drybone, across the bridge. I am hoping they can help us,” Y’shtola explained before a solemn frown deepened the lines on her face. “I am afraid that, with things as they are now, Twilight, it may be a long time before we can turn any attention towards finding your Element of Harmony.”

“Forget the Element,” Twilight blurted, almost without thinking. “The Scions are my friends. You need my help, first and foremost. The Element can wait.”

Y’shtola blinked in surprise, then offered a small nod. “Very well… you have my thanks, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Well, then you’d best be off!” Yda announced, managing at least the facade of a smile. “The world isn’t going to save itself. Our missing friends might, but they’d probably appreciate a helping hand as well. Oh, and if any imperial bastards happen to get in your way, please give them my warmest regards.”

“We would do that in most situations regardless. But I take your meaning,” Y’shtola replied. “As for yourself, do not throw your life away recklessly. If the empire does return and you find yourself in a situation you cannot beat your way out of, for the love of all the Twelve, run.”

Twilight looked down, scuffing the dirty concrete below her with a hoof. “We’ve lost too many friends already…”

Yda’s smile fell a little, the hyur kneeling down in front of the pony and giving her a scratch behind the ear. “Well, when you give me those puppy eyes, I just can’t refuse.”

“I’m not a puppy…” Twilight weakly retorted as she indignantly accepted the pleasant ear scratches. “Or an animal to give pets to!”

“Aw, but you’re so cute! And we need cute! Always yes to the cute!”

Well, at least Twilight was able to push her mood in a more positive direction…

“Be that as it may, let’s not cause any more of a scene,” Y’shtola noted in bemusement. “Twilight, we must away. It is a long trek to Drybone and I would like to catch up with any survivors that might congregate there.”

“Okay, okay…” Yda relented, rising back to her feet as her smile vanished entirely. “Just… be really careful. I can’t lose anyone else…”

“Yda…” Twilight muttered sadly.

“We will. Worry not for us,” Y’shtola kindly replied. “Good luck, Scion.”

And with those parting words, Y’shtola and Twilight bid Yda farewell and left her alone outside the darkened remains of the Waking Sands. Twilight hated having to leave her there amidst the ghosts of friends lost, but she couldn’t stop moving either.

Until now it had largely been about her. Her Element of Harmony. Finding a way home. For all Eorzea’s own troubles, that had always been her foremost priority, and helping the Scions had been the fastest and easiest way of accomplishing that goal.

Not anymore. As important as that was, protecting her new friends was even more important in her mind. If she couldn’t protect her friends here in Eorzea, how was she to face the ones she left behind in Equestria? Or even the Element itself, the symbol that represented the power of those friendships?

She was going to get them back. She was going to get it back. And the ascians and the empire would pay for what they had done.

The following days on the road between Vesper Bay and Camp Drybone were spent largely in an eerie silence. Perhaps both were still processing the events that had transpired to set them on this path. Myriad emotions yet raged within Twilight, and she knew they most certainly still raged within Y’shtola as well.

The miqo’te was far better at hiding it, though, much to her credit.

Though perhaps neither of them simply had anything of substance to say. What could one say following such a tragedy? Not knowing which friends were dead and which, if any, yet drew breath? Where your enemy was hiding, whether they were walking into another ambush with imperials hiding around the next corner to finish the job.

Or an ascian, worse coming to worst.

Though such considerations often frequented the alicorn’s train of thought as the hours turned into days, there had thus far been no further sightings of their enemies. No Scarmiglione. No Y’sanna. No Lahabrea or that tribunus Nero that Y’shtola had spied… Not even the blackened helmet of a single imperial thug waving a sword and magitek spear their way.

No, things had been completely quiet and calm the entire time.

For some reason that made Twilight feel worse.

“You seem deep in thought,” Y’shtola finally spoke as they walked side by side down the road, the woman looking across at her faux carbuncle. “And have for some time. I am here if there is aught you wish to share.”

Twilight sighed. “I’m just… running through what happened in my head. Trying to figure out if we could have done something different…”

“Such thoughts will avail you little,” Y’shtola gently chided. “We never saw it coming, nor could we have. Dwelling upon ‘could have beens’ will only serve to shatter morale and leave us weakened. So it is not the thought of what could have been that occupies my mind, but the how of it. I have given much consideration to how they could have pulled off such a surgical strike so effectively, and against multiple targets no less, but I find myself at a loss.”

“If someone was captured, then is it really far-fetched that they found out that way?”

“Indeed, I have thought of that possibility frequently. One of our less prominent members could have revealed the location of the Sands, it is true,” Y’shtola postulated. “So ‘tis the most likely answer. But something about that notion rings false in my mind. Consider that the attack was coordinated with the strike on you even as Titan was felled. The timing was exact.”

Twilight hummed. “How many Scions knew where I was?”

“All of our inner circle, naturally. You met all but one the day we met.”

“There was one I didn’t meet?”

Y’shtola nodded. “Alphinaud Levellieur. For a mercy, he seldom frequents the Sands and prefers to conduct his own business, so it is like he was not caught in the trap. He and his sister both.”

Twilight had to wonder whether she’d have the pleasure of meeting this ‘Alphinaud’ sometime down the line…

“So, if someone was captured, it had to be one of them, right?” the alicorn then asked, as much as she hated the thought.

“It would fit. But I do not see it as likely that either of them would be willing to reveal such intimate details of our operations. Alphinaud, for all of his self-confidence, is steadfastly devoted to our cause, and Alisaie is far too stubborn to cave under any form of interrogation I can imagine,” Y’shtola then said in turn. “And everyone you met is amongst the most trusted of us, and very capable of keeping their tongues to themselves even under the most intense of pressures. Most would surely perish before giving forth information purely for their own sakes.”

“They sound really brave…”

“Each and every one of them…” the woman quietly agreed. “Not to mention our intelligence network. Thancred works tirelessly to watch our enemies’ movements, walking unseen among them often. Time and again his information proved vital. I cannot help but wonder how he could have missed such a large operation being underway…”

The miqo’te abruptly ceased her stride. Twilight took a few more stops before noticing and turning to face the contemplative scholar. She quietly considered for several moments, countless possibilities flashing behind her eyes before she looked back up at Twilight.

“Nay, there is yet more transpiring that we cannot see. None of our core members would have revealed anything to our enemies, and those more pliable wouldn’t have known enough for an operation as precise and efficient as was conducted. And that there were no signs beforehand? Something far more insidious led us to this than a mere interrogation. I wish I could explain how or why, but all I can say is the presence of the ascians is evident wherever I look.”

It was becoming clear to Twilight that Y’shtola was frustrating herself just talking about this. Though her tone remained calm and measured, there was an unmistakable fury behind her eyes that betrayed her true emotions.

A moment later, Y’shtola seemed to recognize this as well and shook her head. “But idle speculation will get us nowhere. Come. We must continue,” she said, pressing on at a brisk pace.

Twilight fell into step beside her once more, giving the scholar a concerned glance. Y’shtola had known the Scions for far longer than she had. Her bond with them was no doubt far stronger than Twilight’s own. She could only imagine how much this was all eating away at her. And Twilight knew only all too well how much intrusive thoughts could erode someone’s emotional state when they were left in silence without a distraction.

It had taken the absolute noise of her friends in Ponyville to show her how damaging it could be. Maybe now was a good time to pay that lesson forward…

“Y’shtola?” Twilight asked, drawing the miqo’te’s attention. Y’shtola glanced down at her, quirking a brow. Twilight met her gaze. “Would you mind telling me a little more about your people? The Y tribe?”

Y’shtola faltered, her eyes widening somewhat. “I beg your pardon? Why do you wish to know? And what does it have to do with our current predicament.”

Twilight dispelled her glamour so Y’shtola could see her face more clearly. She offered her a tentative smile. “Nothing. But I still want to know. I’m curious. And I think we could both do with a distraction. You said idle speculation about things we don’t know isn’t going to help, so let’s share things we do know.”

Y’shtola hummed quietly, looking up into the sky, toward the sun. Her pace gradually slowed as she looked, and Twilight thought she could see a pearl of nostalgia behind the woman’s eyes. Finally, Y’shtola nodded. “Very well, though I fear there is not much more for me to tell you. You already know that I was accepted as Master Matoya’s student at a young age and that most of my formative years were spent under her watchful eye or in the Sharlayan Motherland. You know that my tribe was based in the Dravanian Hinterlands, and oft did business with the colony.”

Twilight nodded along quietly. “I know all this, yes. What I don’t know is anything about the tribe itself, or the culture of the miqo’te as a wider people.”

Y’shtola was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Miqo’te culture is, typically, fairly consistent - at least within a broader ‘clan.’ I am a Seeker of the Sun, as we are called in the common tongue. We have nocturnal cousins named the Keepers of the Moon, whose culture varies wildly from my own…”

“Tell me,” Twilight insisted gently.

Y’shtola nodded. “Very well,” she said, before launching into her tail. Twilight listened intently, drinking in every detail. She learned of how Miqo’te society was a highly patriarchal one, with each tribe being led by a ‘Nuhn,’ a male who owned property and had the exclusive right to breed with the many females of the clan. Those younger males who were born, relatively few in number, bore the surname ‘tia,’ and would either take over the position of Nuhn by defeating the prior Nuhn in single combat, expand the tribe’s influence by spreading their hunting grounds, or branch away from their home tribe to form their own with a new letter - or set of letters.

She learned of the Keepers' history, of how many of them first arrived in Eorzea alongside the Calamity of Ice, crossing the frozen oceans and taking up residence in Erozea as the world began to thaw. She learned of the common religious devotion to Azeyma, the Warden, the goddess of the Sun.

Inwardly, Twilight felt a pang of nostalgia, and she couldn’t help but compare the Warden to Celestia back home in Equestria.

Next, she heard of how they would hunt, how they would build their homes, how their young adults would venture into the world to explore, learn, and return for the prosperity of their tribe, or remain in the wider world out of a love for adventure, or simply a preference for the larger cities.

She learned all this, and so much more. By the time Y’shtola was done recounting the details, the time had come for them to stop and begin setting up camp. Twilight had listened almost silently the entire time, but now she spoke. “Wow… I had no idea there was so much to it,” she said softly.

Y’shtola nodded. “From a passing glance to an outsider, mayhap it could seem that the various peoples of Eorzea are merely physical denominations. But we are all of us born from different histories and cultures, and we carry them with us wheresoever we go. I imagine it is no different where you are from,” she said, depositing her bag on the ground by a low stone that would serve as a chair. She knelt down, rummaging around for firewood.

Twilight, already clearing a patch of the earth for their fire, nodded. “It is. Back in Equestria, there are as many types of creatures with their own cultures as you have fingers and toes. There are at least four races of pony, seven depending on who you ask, and there are differences in culture and background between all of us. At least, in old history. We sort of blended together with time.”

Twilight then smiled and glanced off toward where the sun was setting on the distant horizon. “We sort of have our own Azeyma, too, if you can believe it. Princess Celestia.”

Y’shtola hummed. “You have mentioned that name before. A goddess?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not in the literal sense. She’s one of the rulers of Equestria. She is absolutely the most powerful mage in all of Equestria, though, and her magic lets her raise and lower the sun! A lot of ponies do look at her like a goddess - and I do too, frankly. But she’s always the first to shoot the idea down whenever somepony brings up the notion. All the same, she’s been our leader for over a thousand years, and she’s helped us foster generations built on the principles of unity and harmony.”

“Unity,” Y’shtola remarked with a small smile. “A dream Eorzea has yet to see come to fruition. Mayhap there are lessons for us to learn from your kind… if you are of a mind to share.”

Twilight grinned, flaring her wings out in demonstration. “Oh, I am happy to! I am the Princess of Friendship, after all! Spreading the lessons I’ve learned to whoever will listen is my entire job description!”

“I see. Then you have found in me an attentive student,” Y’shtola snickered, tossing a bundle of sticks to Twilight, which she deftly caught in her magic. Y’shtola turned back to her and got seated on her chosen rock. “And besides. I spoke at length of my people. It is your turn to do the same. Fair is fair.”

Twilight’s grin grew wide, and she was quick to put the wood into place. “Alright! Where should I start?” she asked eagerly.

Y’shtola hummed. “You mentioned before that there are four or seven races of pony, depending on who you ask. I would have you explain that to me.”

Twilight nodded, and a small spark of ruby-coloured light from her spellbook set the prepared campfire ablaze. “Sure. There are Earth Ponies, Unicorns, and Pegasi. They form the main bulk of our population. Then there are alicorns, like me, but we’re kind of a special breed. We’re not born, we’re made. At least, two of us were… But if you turn your attention to the main races, there are plenty of examples of, well, I guess ‘subraces,’ or ‘clans,’ kind of like between the Keepers and the Seekers. There are records of unicorns with curved horns and strange magics who lived in an ancient empire. There are nocturnal pegasi who live in caves and remote jungles, with wings like those of a bat, and whose eyes see in the dark. There are Crystal Ponies to the north, who have most things in common with the Earth Ponies of Equestria, save for their translucent bodies and illustrious shine.”

Y’shtola nodded, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Intriguing… and what can you tell me of these other clans?”

Twilight flapped her wings a few times, only all too happy to oblige. She got settled on her belly and launched into an in-depth recounting of all she knew of Equestria’s history. A recounting that, unabridged, would take several days. And all the while, Y’shtola did indeed prove to be a very attentive student.

It did nothing to advance their goals. It did nothing to slow the Empire or save Eorzea. It did nothing to bring Twilight any closer to her Element of Harmony. But it did serve to bring the Alicorn and Miqo’te, both so far from the lands of their birth, just a little closer together. And for Twilight, that was reason enough to do it anyway.

22 - Thal's Respite

The blazing heat of the sun beat down from on high, bathing the weary travellers wandering in and out of Camp Drybone in scorching warmth. The air above the tarps and in the distance rippled and shimmered with rising heatwaves, lending an ephemeral atmosphere to everything beyond the settlement. As such, the town was a welcome sight to anyone traversing the borderlands between Thanalan and the Black Shroud. It mattered little whether they were traders, marching soldiers, or staunch adventurers. Its presence was a reprieve to many, and no less so for the miqo’te and alicorn approaching from the west, drenched in sweat and eager to refill their water.

The road was notably busy as the duo made their way in, with a heavily loaded down wagon just up ahead, sagging under the weight of the various goods and pulled by a single yellow feathered chocobo who seemed more than ready for a trough of water and perhaps a gyshal green or two. It felt much the same as the last time Twilight passed through. It felt like that had been ages ago, now, as they had made their way to Gridania, a suspicious Y’shtola walking at her side alongside the oblivious Yda and the always-indignant Papalymo.

The alicorn wasn’t certain how one’s first steps in an alien world could be considered ‘simpler times’, but recent events had certainly made it seem that way…

“Take some time and catch your breath, but we shan’t be staying overlong,” Y’shtola noted as they made their descent into the pit containing the beating heart of the settlement, sparing her false carbuncle a sympathetic glance. “T’was a long road, but the local Flame Commander should be able to direct us to our spy, and then we must away again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Twilight lied in spite of her aching limbs. “I just want to find out what happened to our friends.”

“All the same, I would not have you collapsing. Rest while I speak with them. A carbuncle would be hard-pressed to feel the fatigue of travel, a construct of aether as they are, but your veneer does not imbue you with the same vitality.”

“I’m not that unfit! Rainbow Dash puts me through my aerial paces far too much for that!” Twilight protested. “Besides, aren’t ‘you’ tired?”

Y’shtola nodded. “I am. And I shall be catching my breath as well, worry you not.”

Twilight harrumphed but had to concede the point. Working herself to the point of exhaustion wouldn’t help their cause. With that thought, the pony’s gaze shifted to a break in the road that curved back upwards and a little to the north. A signpost indicated it as a route to the lichyard…

Y’shtola saw where Twilight’s eyes wandered. A grim look crossed her features as she paused to cross her arms. “You wish to investigate?” she asked.

“We were told the dead were interred there…” Twilight noted under her breath. “Maybe they can tell us who brought the bodies. It might be one of the Scions…”

“It is certainly an option, but I would entertain my contact foremost. The priests there are kindly souls, and I would not invite potential danger to their doorstep if another option is yet open. Besides, there will be time to visit and mourn the dead later. When we know who lay resting there, and with the living once more standing at our side.”

“Right…” Twilight couldn’t help but feel uneasy, standing so close to the remains of those Scions who fell to imperial steel and yet choosing to walk by without even paying her respects. She didn’t even know if any of the dead were those she personally knew. But even if they weren’t, they all deserved someone to remember them…

Later, if they were able. She would have to visit them later.

With the mood brought low once more, the pair pressed on for the final minutes of their journey. Their persistence was rewarded as the vast crystal that was the local aetheryte came into view, and around it, the general hustle and bustle of active trade, guard patrols, and the everyday activity of the local population. The softer shades and hues provided by the colourful fabrics overhead afforded Twilight’s dry, aching eyes some relief, and helped her to relax in the newfound shade.

“I will go and speak to the Flames. If my contact is not present here then we’ll proceed to the foothills across the bridge, unless he is located elsewhere,” Y’shtola instructed Twilight. “I would ask you to remain out here.”

Twilight frowned. “What, is there a no carbuncle rule or something?” she asked, keeping her voice down so as not to draw attention.

“No. But I would have you listen to the chatter of those around us. The common people will pay little mind to a lowly familiar, and will speak freely. Perhaps there is information to be gleaned regarding recent events.”

Twilight’s muzzle scrunched up in offence. “Lowly? Is that a crack at my height? It’s not my fault you’re all bipedal! And tall!”

“It was no such thing, I assure you. In fact, your stature will likely assist in your endeavours.”

“Okay, now that was a crack at my height.”

“I merely speak fact, little one,” Y’shtola smirked at the odd moment of levity. “But I must away. Do not wander far, I shall return.”

And so she did just that. Y’shtola walked away as Twilight remained rooted to the spot, watching the miqo’te vanish into the crowd with a puff of irritation until she was entirely alone amongst strangers.

“Right…” Twilight quietly mused to herself, shaking away any flustering she might have felt and focusing on the task at hoof. “Where to first…?”

She spent a few moments examining the people around her, taking in the chaotic din and loud murmurs of the gathering before wincing and tilting her ears away from the onslaught. A lot of chatter, and who knew how much of it would even be useful… She’d need to find someone important or knowledgeable looking… or maybe-

“Woah! Coooool!”

…That was not something she was expecting to hear.

Twilight turned her head to see that, a short distance away, a small cat-eared girl was staring at her with sparkling eyes of abject amazement. The little thing’s fists were held up to the underside of her chin, her lips parting into an amazed grin.

“Are you a kitty? A fox? You’re cute!” the child announced as she gawked at Twilight’s shimmering carbuncle form.

“Kitty? You’re one to talk…” she muttered under her breath, giving the child a small sigh before turning back to the crowd. As cute as the child was, Twilight doubted she’d have anything valuable to tell her.

“Aw, are you sad, Ms Kitty? Here! I make it better!”

“What is she- ACK!”

Twilight didn’t have to ponder long before the child unceremoniously picked the disguised alicorn up in spite of the fact that she was actually a little bit smaller than the pony. Whatever cuteness induced ungodly strength this child possessed, she put everything into the ultimate squash of suffocation that she called a hug, shaking Twilight from side to side with giggling glee.

“There we go, Ms Kitty! All better now!”

Twilight’s eye twitched, spinning around in her head as she realized there were certain aspects of the tale she wasn’t going to be telling the ponies back in Equestria…

Nonplussed and thoroughly tired of being smothered, she began to squirm until the girl got the hint and released Twilight from her grasp. Once she was back on all fours, Twilight silently shot the child a glare, biting her tongue for any equally biting remarks as she committed to her disguise’s quirks.

“B-but… Ms Kitty…” The child sniffed, lip quivering.

Twilight’s heart sank as those vast, slitted eyes shone with tears. Her own twitched again as she slumped in resignation. “Dammit.”

Putting on her best cat-like purr, Twilight trudged forwards and begrudgingly nuzzled the miqo’te’s leg. And just like that, the waterworks were brought to an immediate end, and the child’s grin returned. “D’awww! I love you too, Ms. Kitty!”

This would never be uttered to anyone.

Not. A. Soul.

“L’eilenn? Ah, there you are. What have you found there?” came a new voice, and Twilight saw an older miqo’te woman approaching the child with another male member of the species at her side. Parents, if she had to make an educated guess.

“Oh! Mama! Look what I found!” L’eilann exclaimed, backing up a step and pointing at Twilight with a few happy bounces.

“Oh? A carbuncle? Where did…?”

“Now, L’eilenn,” the father spoke. “You didn’t take it from its owner now, did you?”

“Nuh-uh, I found her!”

The mother blinked. “It’s a her?”

“She’s super pretty! So of course she’s a girl!”

Twilight would take the compliment…

“Well, I’m sure she has an owner who will be back at any moment, so come on, we’ve got to get home. You know it’s not too safe out here right now,” the father said, his expression revealing some subtly covered anxiety.

“Aw, but why?” L’eilenn pouted.

“It doesn’t matter. Come on, it’s time to go,” he responded.

“Actually, did you hear any more from your coworkers?” the mother asked her husband. “About those burials over in the lichyard?”

“Apparently victims of an imperial attack. There was another of those garlean bastards in the lichyard not so long ago. Apparently, they attacked one of the adventurers helping out there. A young man with an axe and spiky armour. Stupid tin man didn’t stand a chance from what I hear.”

Now that got Twilight’s attention. If that was who she thought it was, that was the best news she’d heard all week!

“Really? What is the world coming to where imperials can have the run of the place?” the mother asked, her eyes lowering as she made some manner of symbol over her heart with her hand.

“If you ask me, the Flames aren’t doing their jobs. It’s always adventurers who end up picking up the slack, like that lad I mentioned. But he’s run off now too, apparently with one of the priests at the Lichyard. Marques, I think his name was. White-haired fellow, beard, good with a hammer. Some kid too, from what I heard, an elezen lad with all the pomp and arrogance of a noble. Gods know what the likes of them are up to.”

Twilight frowned. She wasn’t too sure about those other two… maybe Y’shtola would know? But that first one had to be a certain too-stubborn-to-die adventurer they knew! He wasn’t dead! If he had survived, then maybe some of the others had too…

With the sudden surge of relief and happiness she felt at the news, her carbuncle form’s shimmer practically doubled.

“What’re you talking about?” L’eilenn asked her parents curiously.

“Oh! Uh, never mind that. Say goodbye to your new friend, we’re going,” her father urged.

“Aw, okay…” She turned around, giving Twilight a bright smile and a quick scratch behind the ear. “Goodbye, Ms Kitty! I’ll always remember you!”

“You knew me for five minutes… at least the scratching is nice…”

The child gave her one final enthusiastic wave before her parents pulled her away and back into the crowd, leaving Twilight alone once again.

The alicorn let out a breath. “Well, not the most orthodox way of getting information. I don’t think it’d make it into the next Daring Do, but it worked,” she groaned to herself before puffing up, imagining Thancred approving of her success. She could already imagine what he’d say.

“Well done, Twilight! Why, I could hardly have done any better myself. Just stand nearby and look charming. Eventually, all the best people with the juiciest secrets will come right to you. Then it’s just a matter of the right smile and a well-timed wink, and they’ll be putty in your hands.”

Now to tell Y’sthola without unveiling just how she came about the information.

Needless to say, Y’shtola was perplexed by Twilight’s story when the two of them met up under the blue glow of the Aetheryte. However, her incredulity aside, she did not doubt the tale and displayed just as much relief as Twilight felt upon hearing that the warrior yet lived. And as it so happened, luck appeared to be on their side this day, for Y’shtola’s efforts had also borne fruit.

“Our contact has sequestered himself away in Thal’s Respite, a shrine for devotees to the Traders. It is a remote location, nestled in the foothills just before the ridge that divides the shroud from Thanalan,” the miqo’te explained as the pair walked across Highbridge. A brisk wind washed over them as they passed, carrying with it dust particles that forced Twilight to keep her head down, and for Y’shtola to keep a hand over one side of her face to protect her eyes.

“Why so remote if it’s a place of worship?” Twilight asked, glancing briefly down over the bridge and once again spotting the impressive statue that jutted out of the cliff face far below. If she understood her Eorzean lore right, then that statue was itself a depiction of the keeper of the realm of the dead, Thal.

“It is a test of faith,” Y’shtola remarked. “Under the teachings of the Traders, those who wish to bring their material wealth into the Heaven of Fire once they have passed must prove they are worthy of possessing it in such a realm. Coming to Thal’s Respite is one such way for the men and women of Ul’Dah to demonstrate their worthiness. Fasting and praying to the Traders for guidance.”

Twilight hummed thoughtfully, returning her eyes to the bridge ahead of them. She had a fair few thoughts on such a practice, but she kept them to herself. There was still so much she did not know about the religion of this land, and she had no interest in letting that ignorance get her in trouble. So instead, she asked a different question. “Is it safe?”

“It is remote,” Y’shtola replied as they came to the far edge of the bridge and back onto the firm, sandy dirt. “And lightly guarded. It is tended by a trio of priests of the Order, and I believe it may have a handful of Brass Blades assigned to its defence. Beyond that, however, the protection it provides comes from how out of the way it is, and the lack of strategic value in the location. There are not enough resources for a hostile force to gather or exploit, and the shrine is built into a shallow cave that affords them no meaningful access to other regions. Couple that with the small size of the cave and the heat of the desert, and it is not worth going there unless you are on pilgrimage… or need to hide.”

Twilight nodded in understanding, then fell silent as the duo began their ascent up the slowly inclining slopes that lead up toward the Black Shroud. However, they did not follow the road all the way. After another hour of walking, Y’shtola guided them down a worn path in the dirt that was almost invisible and would have gone unnoticed by anyone who did not know to look for it. The ground became uneven and unpleasant to walk on, leaving Twilight’s hooves sore and aching, and the heat of the desert beating down on her left her panting for breath.

But, at long last, the duo crested a small hill. Up ahead, they saw a wall of reddened stone that snaked to the north and south for leagues. Set into a natural recession in the stone was a small cave entrance, lit by ever-burning torches. To the right of the cave, a simple sandstone structure was built into a protrusion from the cave wall that almost looked like one of the various stone spires she had seen in the Shroud but made to suit the harsh climate of Thanalan.

Y’shtola relaxed on seeing the nondescript landmark. “We are here,” she announced before beginning her descent down the slopes. Twilight was close at her heels, raising her glamour once again. There were lights on in the structure and even this far away from civilization she was in no mood to leave clues as to her whereabouts for the empire to track her.

As they drew near, a lalafell man dressed in sandy white robes emerged from the structure. He eyed the approaching miqo’te with curiosity, then bowed his head once they were within speaking range. “Greetings, traveller. What brings you to this holy place?” he asked pleasantly.

Y’shtola smiled. “I am told that a friend of mine has taken refuge here. Ala Mhigan, dark skin, and burly muscle. I have come to speak with him and have a wild rose as a gift. Is he available?”

The priest blinked at the mention of a wild rose, then smiled and nodded his head. “Ah, of course. Your friend is safe here, Scion, and has been for some time, now. He is within the shrine right now… he says the darkness and low roof of the cave make him feel safe.”

Y’shtola’s expression darkened, but she nodded all the same. “I see. Thank you kindly. I will let you return to your work,” she said politely before beckoning for Twilight to follow her and marching for the cave. Twilight dutifully kept pace, but she couldn’t help but glance curiously at the priest. How had he known Y’shtola was a Scion?

As if sensing her question, Y’shtola whispered to her once they were out of earshot. “It is the code word of the Scions,” she said. “Wild Rose. A covert means of communicating our allegiance with our allies across Eorzea, to be used sparingly.”

Twilight nodded. “Oooh. That’s clever. Nondescript and common enough that no one would bat an eye if they overhead it, but specific enough to be picked up by someone who knows to listen to it. Nice,” she said, gaining a whole new layer of respect for the Scions.

Y’shtola smirked at the compliment, then turned her eyes back into the cave. They rounded a bend and came to a larger chamber. At the far end of the space stood a statue of Thal upon a raised sandstone pedestal. An offering altar was set into the base of the pedestal, where a single incense burner lit the room and filled it with a soothing scent. To the left and right, eroded sandstone pillars supported the jagged roof, each one having a slot where a normal candle burned. Ropes were strung between the pillars, and ornamental talismans hung from the ropes at regular intervals.

Kneeling before the statue was a hyur man, his head bowed. The air faintly reverberated with the ineligible mumblings of his prayers.

Y’shtola place a hand on her hip and called out. “Einar!”

The man stiffened and swiftly rose to his feet. He spun to face them, a hand flying to his side where a heavy and vicious-looking battle axe was sheathed. Upon spotting who it was that approached him, he relaxed. “Y-you… You’re a Scion!” he exclaimed, his hand drooping to his side. “Oh, thank the Twelve!”

Y’shtola nodded. “Aye. It is good to see you unharmed. Sadly, I am afraid we come to you under unpleasant circumstances.”

Einar grunted, throwing his hands up and shaking his head. His long, thick black hair waved around his head with the motion. “You come to me under unpleasant circumstances?! Seven Hells, woman, we’re all under unpleasant circumstances!” he exclaimed before lowering his arms and marching for one of the nearby pillars. “That said, I reckon I know what it is you want from me. So out with it.”

Twilight flinched from the harsh tone in the man’s voice, but she felt that it came less from genuine hostility and more from a flood of emotions that needed to be let out. She looked up at Y’shtola and nodded before taking a step back and surrendering the floor to her partner.

Y’shtola approached Einar. “You’ve heard of what happened to the Scions?” she asked hesitantly.

Einar nodded. “Aye. Word spread like wildfire that the empire hit some private home in Vesper Bay, and then suddenly our reports to you lot weren’t getting replies… Then the imperials came down on us. Must’ve found our reports among your antecedent’s papers and found out they had even more spies in their ranks than Hummingway.”

Y’shtola’s expression dimmed. “I see… I am sorry for your loss.”

Einar scoffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, it’ll be the last. I’ll tell ya what I know, but then I’m done. I was the only one to get out of that Castrum with my life, and I ain’t about to let those imperial bastards take it from me. I owe it to my brothers to keep going…”

“Then tell me what you know,” Y’shtola pressed gently.

Einar took a deep breath, then nodded. “Right. Well. As is, my lads and I were infiltrating imperial ranks here in Eorzea. Trying to find a weak spot for the resistance back home to exploit, ya know? My friends and I got stationed in Castrum Centri, of all places. Worked there for a while. Saw some really crazy bollocks - not that I understood a whit of it. But then, few days back, the tin men march back in with a whole convoy of prisoners. Scions, by my reckoning. There was a skinny hyur lass, blonde. Two lalafell, one a bloke with a monocle and a staff, the other some lass with a big hat. Finally, there was this really tall bastard wearing a potato sack of a robe and talkin’ in riddles.”

Twilight frowned, recognizing the descriptions. Minfillia, Papalymo, Tataru, and Urianger. But no mention of Thancred. Did that mean he was…?

She quickly shook her head, dispelling the notion. They hadn’t found a body. If they hadn’t found a body, and Thancred wasn’t imprisoned with the others, then he must have managed to avoid the attack, somehow. That said, she could only imagine how badly the man would take it when he realized what had happened. He was already so hard on himself after the conflict with Ifrit…

“Were they kept there?” Y’shtola pressed. “Or where they moved elsewhere?”

“Last I heard, they were still being kept at Centri,” Einar said with a shrug. “Not that I got to hear much. Barely had an hour after that convoy turned up that the bastards brought all us spies out for an ‘inspection.’ Torgul figured it was probably a trap, so he asked me to stay behind in case that’s what it was and just make the excuse I had a uniform malfunction… Then I heard the gunshots and made a break for it.”

Y’shtola nodded softly. “I see… was there any indication as to who was in charge of the prisoners?”

“One of Gaius’ Tribunes, I think. That bitch in the white armour. Livia, I think was her name.”

Y’shtola lowered her head, a hand rising to tap against her cheek in thought. “I see… and you saw no sign of a man in a dark shirt with white hair?” she asked, thinking of Thancred as well.

Einar shook his head. “Nope.”

“Troubling… Thank you, Einar,” Y’shtola said with a respectful bow of her head. “This has been exceptionally helpful.”

Einar snorted and crossed his burly arms over his chest. “Well, don’t expect any more from me. As I said. I’m done. I’m going back to Gyr Abania and I’m picking a sword back up. All this spy bullshit’s not the way for me.”

Y’shtola stepped aside as Einar brushed past her, heading for the door. “Of course. Go in peace, Einar. I wish you well.”

“Long as a single Garlean bastard’s still walking around in my homeland,” Einar scowled, pausing briefly at the cave’s entrance. “Then nothing’s gonna be well. Not for Ala Mhigo. Not for me. And not for you.”

With that, Einar departed, his heavy footfalls echoing down the passage as he disappeared into the distance. Twilight watched him go, her heart going out to the man. She wished there was something she could do to help him, but right now her hooves were tied. The feeling of powerlessness ate away at her, and she couldn’t stop herself from scraping her hoof along the floor in agitation.

“So, they are housed in Castrum Centri,” Y’shtola said aloud as she came back to the alicorn. “That will pose an issue…”

Twilight nodded, frowning. “Where is that?”

“Mor Dhona, one of the most inhospitable regions in Eorzea,” Y’shtola explained. “Once, it was a lush and verdant land. But during one of the Empire’s forays into Eorzea, they were met with fierce resistance by a horde of dragons led by the Great Wyrm Midgardosrmr. They clashed over Silvertear Lake and the devastation wrought by that conflict was enough to render the entire region a barren wasteland, thick with drifting clouds of poisonous aether. It is marked with corrupted crystals, the research value of which is one of the only reasons to brave the region.”

Twilight bit her lip, her tail flicking behind her in rising agitation. “And an imperial castrum is not an easy place to infiltrate…” she predicted.

“If they were easy to repel,” Y’shtola confirmed as they started for the exit. “Then you may be certain the leaders of the city-states would not have tolerated their presence for so long.”

Twilight grunted, focusing her attention forward. “Well, at least we know our friends are alive,” she said with a small spark of optimism. “And we know where they are. We’re better than we were a minute ago. Now, all we need is a plan.”

Y’shtola nodded, smiling with the first hints of genuine hope in this conflict she had felt in quite some time as they emerged back into the light of the sun. “Aye. Come. Let us return to Vesper Bay and appraise Yda of the situation. She will want to be part of whatever plans we make.”

Twilight nodded, a small spring coming to her step. Thancred was still unaccounted for, but the knowledge that so many of the Scions' leaders had survived filled her with hope. She imagined it would be hell to get them back, but they could get them back. And that alone was enough to spur her on.

“Just hang on guys,” she thought. “We’re coming to get you.”

“Look at them. Strolling in and out of a temple like there ain’t a bloody care in the world. Did they find religion in these trying times? Gah,” Y’sanna fumed from her position on the cliffside, watching with a bitter, scornful scowl as Y’shtola and Twilight exited the shrine and began the trek for Camp Drybone. “All their friends are as good as dead and still they keep wriggling like snakes that don’t know their heads are mulch. Or maybe cockroaches.”

When her irritated mutterings received no answer, she glanced back toward the black-robed ascian standing silently not far away. He watched the same scene with an unreadable expression, not helped by the mask hiding everything but his jaw. He scarcely seemed to notice the miqo’te imperial as he tracked the duo’s movements, particularly focused on the carbuncle he knew all too well was but a poorly placed veneer.

Y’sanna, on her part, growled at being ignored. Her crimson carbuncle mirrored these thoughts, turning to offer a hostile snarl at the uncaring paragon.

“Are we going to do something, or are you going to brood more?” Y’sanna demanded impatiently, standing up to her full height and crossing her arms over her chest.

Scarmiglione did not rise to the provocative tone in her voice. “Had you spent more time doing your job and less time revelling in illusory superiority, then our targets would have fallen with the rest of the Scions. Now they roam free, alive and aware of your intentions. You let slip a perfect opportunity, Y’sanna. I recall Scaeva being moderately unimpressed with your… contributions.”

Y’sanna grit her teeth, a nerve well and truly struck. “Oh, so it’s all my fault that it all went tits up?! And what, pray tell, was your big contribution?! You weren’t any help at all! Couldn’t even be bothered to get your own hands dirty beyond that trick you pulled to get her there! Where were you!?”

“I was content to allow you a moment of prestige while I remained in the shadows. You were so desperate for glory, and I saw no reason to deprive you of that satisfaction. Had I known you would flaunt your power so uselessly, however, I might have intervened sooner. Alas, with our enemy ready as they are, your power is grossly insufficient on its own.”

Y’sanna took a step forward, her tail bristling with barely contained rage. “You wanna take off that tacky mask and say that to my face?!”

Scarmiglione did not respond for several long seconds. He folded his hands behind his back and turned to affix Y’sanna with a cold, petrifying look. Under the blackened slits of his mask’s eyes, she felt a tremoring chill creep down her spine, and she suddenly felt rooted to the spot. She swallowed heavily.

Scarmiglione smiled. “And so it is high time I made certain of your success.”

Y’sanna blinked. “What!?”

“You will be pleased to know that your Tribunus has made progress on the Element. Progress which, I believe, will be of great interest to you given your recent blunders,” the ascian explained. “But before that progress will mean anything, the pony must be acquired. I will take her myself.”

“Ugh, well, I’m glad you’re finally going to do something for yourself. But if you think I’m going to lose out on all the credit then you’re sorely mistaken. Unlocking her secrets will be my contribution to the Empire!” Y’sanna spat, planting her fists on her hips.

Scarmiglione did not seem impressed. “Will it? Hm. The Scion remains a problem. Her power is not insignificant. It is nothing when placed next to the might of one of the Convocation. Regrettably, however, I am not one of their number…”

Y’sanna’s ear twitched, picking up the whispered addition Scarmiglione added a second later. “Yet.”

Y’sanna’s tilted her head curiously. “Excuse me?”

Scarmiglione’s head slowly turned towards her, a dark smirk scratched into his features. “A joint effort, then. The Equestrian shall be dealt with. Given your history, I’ll leave the Scion to your skills. Eliminate her, and I will lay the ‘prestige’ for victory at your feet. I have no use for your kind’s hollow accolades. Do as you will with them.”

“I can’t say I care for you, ascian,” Y’sanna sneered back. “But fine. We’ll do it your way. But if you fail as I did, you can bet Lord Gaius will hear of what a poor excuse for a paragon you truly are.”

“I care not. Your Legatus is as frail as the rest. Broken, shattered. Fleeting…”

He started to laugh to himself, maddeningly, humorlessly, with even Y’sanna finding unsettled chills running down her spine as he stepped forward and hungrily regarding the rapidly disappearing alicorn as she walked into the distance.

“I swear it shall be healed! By my hand, I will mend a broken world and bring you all back to the light, by shadow as I must. By your power of friendship, Sparkle, shall the world’s rebirth be forged in blood.”

23 - Dusk Falls

Twilight remained deep in thought as she and her tall cat-eared friend set off from Thal’s Respite, moving at a steady pace down the dusty trail back for Camp Drybone and, beyond that, Vesper Bay. She remained focused on the task at hoof, the rescue of their friends from this castrum of the Empire.

Mor Dhona… Y’shtola’s descriptions of the place had certainly piqued her curiosity. A place of corrupted magic, crystals and all… Her mind’s eye pictured the Crystal Empire under Sombra’s influence. Perhaps a little less snowy, and ridden with those more inclined to imperialistic tendencies than necromantic.

Still, were times better than what they were, she’d be quite eager to get a study going. Maybe poke some of those crystals. In a safe and secure environment, of course! She’d only caused three and a half fires during her final year at Celestia’s school, so lessons learned and all that.

Not that there would be any such opportunities for study, given the task that lay before her. Rescuing their friends, evading Y’sanna, and all while keeping her eyes out for Scarmiglione skulking somewhere in the wings…

Still. Even if she couldn’t do any in-depth studies, that didn’t mean she couldn’t learn in other ways. And she did have a scholar walking right next to her. And so, with a nod, Twilight glanced at her companion. “Y’shtola?”

The miqo’te glanced down at her curiously, not breaking her stride. “Hm?”

“Mor Dhona. You mentioned the imperial Castrum, but is there anything else out there? Alliance cities? Towns? Camps?”

“There is a settlement, but it is technically its own entity, separate from the Eorzean Alliance. This is due to a wide range of factors, not least of all being that the region is contested. It was set up by Adventurers Guild and is thus run by adventurers. It is, in truth, more of an extension of the guild than a state itself.”

“Sounds… complicated.”

“It is what it is, but more importantly it is a bastion of civilization for those wandering those barren wastes,” Y’shtola explained. “Aside from that and the remains of the Agrius in Lake Silvertear, the imperial warship downed by the dragons, the only other feature of note is the Crystal Tower.”

Twilight blinked. “Okay, now what’s that?”

“An ancient Allagan structure that was exposed to the surface following Bahamut’s rampage. It is a remnant of a lost era. Beyond that, however, I do not know. None have been able to approach it by land or sky. But judging by the choice of building material and the scale of it, I can only imagine its capacity for storing and manipulating aether.”

Twilight hummed, trying to imagine the structure in her mind. All at once, her thoughts returned to the Crystal Empire, and the massive spire that served as the central palace in the heart of the city.

“But all that only serves to complicate matters all the more,” Y’shtola explained further. “As you might imagine, all these factors create no end of chaos, and that instability has claimed the lives of many young and naive adventurers sifting through the remains. Between the beasts, rampant aetheric corruption, and the imperial presence, making our way into the castrum shall require no small amount of planning and careful preparation.”

Twilight perked up and proudly thumped a hoof to her chest with an eager smirk. “If you need a risk assessment, I’m your mare!” she declared emphatically. “All I need is a stack of clean parchment, a few quills, some binoculars, and some time to take plenty of notes!”

Y’shtola smirked in amusement at the enthusiasm. “Commendable, but I do not foresee that as necessary from you. I am not averse to paperwork, regardless.”

Twilight pouted. “Oh, come on! I’m perfect for that kind of job! I always had to have the perfect quill, the parchment measured juuuust right, and the light levels to be perfectly ambient! A little perfectionism goes a long way to writing a good paper! Were you the same?”

Y’shtola’s tail swished slowly, and her eyes became conspicuously focused on the road ahead. “I have no comment on the matter.”

Twilight’s lips quirked up into her best approximation of a Rainbow Dash grin. “You were!”

“...Back to the matter at hand,” Y’shtola deftly changed the subject in irritation. “If possible, I would like to reunite with the other remaining Scions before we launch any rescue missions. Though I acknowledge time may not be on our side, our chances of success would be much higher with the assistance of Alphinaud and the rest. Yda will also be most welcome, should it come to blows - which I do not doubt it shall.”

Twilight set her hoof back down and focused ahead, her expression hardening. “I can imagine. I think she and Dash would like each other.”

“Dash? One of your friends?”

“Yeah, she’s also the ‘hit your way out of problems’ kind. Though with plenty of loyalty and friendship to balance her out. Mostly.”

Y’shtola chuckled. “Then perhaps it is best such a meeting never occur. I cannot see Papalymo’s patience surviving anything of its like.”

“Then he’d just love Pinkie Pie.”

“You should tell me more about these friends of yours,” the miqo’te then suggested. “I have heard plenty of your world, but I’d hear more of your personal life, if it is not imprudent of me to ask.”

“Oh! Not at all! Honestly, now that I think about it, why haven’t we talked about it yet!?”

“We have been quite busy,” the woman pointed out with a sympathetic smile. “These Element Bearers are quite like the Scions in some ways, yes?”

“Well, we’re friends and we protect people when the situation calls for it. So, I guess so? Well, I’ve mentioned Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. There’s also Rarity, Fluttershy, and Applejack. And Spike! I’d never hear the end of it if I forgot about my faithful assistant! He’s a dragon.”

Y’shtola raised an eyebrow at that. “Dragon? My, remind me never to take you to the nation of Ishgard. A curious assistant to have.”

Twilight’s smile returned, albeit far gentler this time as her thoughts turned to her oldest friend. “He’s the best. And he’s only a baby dragon! Well, young by their terms, which is a lot since they live well into the thousands and he’s only in his teen years.”

Her smile faded somewhat, and her eyes lowered. “I can only imagine how he’s taking my absence. He lives with me, you know? Just me and him in our library. Or, well…” she fidgeted, flinching at the memory of her library being reduced to ashes. “We did live in the library.”

Y’shtola looked back down at her. “Something happened, I presume?”

Twilight nodded. “You could say that…” she shook her head. “H-he’s probably fine. He’s probably staying with one of the others. Or maybe the others are helping him look after my place while I’m gone? I don’t know…” she sighed, then drew herself up and cast off her anxieties. “It doesn’t matter, though. There’s nothing I can do about it now, and if I know my friends - and I do, - then they’re taking good care of him. They’ll be fine.”

Y’shtola hummed softly, and her own face lit up with a smile. “Your confidence in them does them credit. They sound as if they are quite an interesting group. They were with you at the moment Scarmiglione brought you to Eorzea, yes?”

Twilight’s smile faltered, and her ears drooped. She looked down, her pace slowing slightly at the reminder of the last time she had seen them outside of her dreams. “Yeah…”

From up ahead, a new and most unwelcome voice called out. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them. Word is they were left bloody from your bout with our mutual robed friend. Not that it matters, they are far from your reach, pony.”

Twilight and Y’shtola stopped dead, their eyes immediately snapping from one another to the all-too-familiar and all-too-smug voice ahead of them. As if on instinct Twilight immediately dispelled her carbuncle glamour and called her book to her side. There was a flicker of magic, and her carbuncle snapped into existence, landing protectively between its summoner and the enemy with a vicious snarl. Y’shtola drew her wand just as swiftly, aether already gathering along the branch and thrumming with power. Her pupils dilated, a feline sighting a predator and immediate threat.

Y’sanna and her crimson carbuncle, meanwhile, looked entirely unimpressed with their threatening postures. They stood a short distance down the road, the former with her arms crossed casually over her chest.

“What, you are honestly surprised to find me here? We can’t very well leave things how we did, can we? Unfinished, as it were. Really, I’ve been dying to play some more. As has my pet. You made such an impression the last time.”

When Twilight’s carbuncle smiled, it was cute. When that thing did so, it was very much the opposite.

“Last time we faced one another, we defeated you,” Y’shtola spat. “And you had the element of surprise, then. If you think this brazen appearance will afford you any advantage, Y’sanna, you are sorely mistaken.”

Y’sanna tilted her head slowly to one side, her expression flat and bored. “...You done?” she asked bluntly.

“Just go away!” Twilight snapped, flipping through the pages of her book for the Aegis and Physik spells. It would not do to be knocked out of the fight too quickly. “I don’t want to fight you!”

Y’sanna rolled her eyes in a manner that made Twilight’s blood boil. “Yeah, well, tough,” she droned before her hand flashed down to her book and pulled it free. Grey mists were already swirling from the pages, and Twilight’s eyes widened. She recognized that mist! It was the same thing the Amalj’aa had used to put her to sleep way back when.

“I think not!” Y’shtola shouted, pointing her wand forward and sending forth a powerful blast of wind and stone. The air rippled around the rush of energy, but Y’sanna seemed unconcerned. Her feral carbuncle advanced and let out a frightful screech. A pulse of blood-coloured aether blasted forth from its maw in a shimmering dome, and Y’shtola’s offensive spell spluttered and faded before it could do much more than ruffle Y’sanna’s hair.

Y’shtola’s eyes widened. “What?”

Y’sanna’s grin grew predatory. “Whose the bad student now?!” she jeered before unleashing her spell. The grey mist surged toward them like a wall, and Twilight knew there was no time to avoid it.

She turned her attention to her carbuncle and focused her magic. The little creature dutifully leapt forward to meet the coming surge, the red gem in its forehead sparking to life and erected a thin wall of ruby light before them. The mist of the sleep spell parted around it, harmlessly passing by Twilight and Y’shtola like a silent breeze.

Twilight, emboldened, took the chance to offer a taunt of her own. “Well, it’s not us!”

And then she heard snarling next to her, and the colour drained from her face. She ducked down and back, barely avoiding it as Y’sanna’s carbuncle leapt at her from the side, twitching and spasming. Twilight gasped in shock. She knew this thing was fast, but she hadn’t realized it could close so much distance so quickly, and without making a sound to boot.

Its paws dug into the earth, and with a feral cry, leapt at her, fangs bared. Twilight snapped her book shut and brought it around just in time to slam it into the offending monster’s side, sending it off course with a high-pitched yelp. At the same time, Twilight gathered magic in her horn, focusing it into the form of the Ruin spell.

Behind her, the ruby wall created by her carbuncle dropped, and Y’shtola capitalized on the moment to launch another spell of her own. Twilight could hear spells firing off behind her as the two miqo’te set about their duel, but she kept her attention squarely on Y’sanna’s little beast. The crimson carbuncle rolled back to its paws and sprinted for her again, but not in a straight line. Its path was erratic and unpredictable, darting from side to side and throwing off her aim. With a grunt of panic, Twilight took a fearful step back, her wings flaring out in a reflexive instinct to take flight. The energy on her horn was growing unstable. She had to release it soon or else it might backfire!

The carbuncle leapt for her, and Twilight fired her spell. Her aim wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. The grey ball of gravitational magic scraped across the carbuncle’s side, knocking it off course from Twilight’s throat. She tried to scramble back, but the claws on its feet still dug into the side of her barrel under her flaring wing. Twilight cried out and kicked up into the air.

“Twilight!” she heard Y’shtola calling out. She looked down to see a swirl of green aether around the conjurer, and she understood quickly. She flared her wings even wider while struggling with the carbuncle attached to her. She grit her teeth and braced herself. A moment later, a powerful blast of air rushed up into her wings, rocketing her higher into the air. The sudden lurch of momentum jerked the crimson carbuncle back in time with the drop of Twilight’s stomach, and both let out a squeak of surprise.

And then Twilight punched it.

Her hoof crunched hard into the carbuncle’s little nose, and she thought for certain that she felt something break under the blow. The carbuncle tilted back, stunned from the strike, affording Twilight a chance to strike it again, and again. All the while, she gathered more aether on her horn for a spell she hadn’t had a proper chance to test, but now seemed as good a time as any.

“Get! Off! ME!” Twilight shouted before, finally, her spell was complete. Crimson aether swirled around her before latching onto the carbuncle like a flurry of leeches. Its eyes widened, and it only had the chance to squeak before it vanished in a flash of sparkling red magic. The energy that had comprised it swirled along the tendrils of the Energy Drain spell, and into the tip of Twilight’s horn, primed and ready for release.

That done, she returned her attention to the battle blow. She was high up in the air, now, but even with her wings furiously flapping, she was losing altitude, and fast. She hadn’t managed to fully memorize the rhythm of the air in this region yet, leaving her with few options but to glide. Still, a glide would serve her very well here.

Down below, Y’shtola and Y’sanna were engaged in battle, spells flashing back and forth. Tides of water and walls of earth clashed with rushes of raw force and bursts of elemental magic. The air rippled and the expressions of power sheared the earth, and Twilight, from her spectatorial vantage point, felt a new sense of respect for these masters of the arcane arts.

The two appeared to be evenly matched, with Twilight’s carbuncle providing what support it could in its master’s absence. Y’sanna’s attention was squarely on Y’shtola, laser-focused and unfaltering. At that moment, Twilight spotted her chance to be rid of this damned predator once and for all. She turned to Y’sanna and flapped hard, bringing herself into a descending, arcing glide that, if all went her way, would bring her in behind the focusing imperial, where she could then unleash the stolen aether and take her out.

She flapped her wings and began the descent. The air rushed in her ears alongside the pounding of her heart. Unfortunately, she barely made it a quarter of the way through the planned manoeuvre before something in the corner of her eyes disrupted all of her plans. A crackling ball of black and red magic came sailing at her from the side, tearing through space with a distorted peal. Instinct took over, and with a grunt of strain, she turned and unleashed the stolen aether just in time to intercept the coming sphere. The orb erupted in an explosion of darkness, and the resulting shockwave knocked Twilight out of the sky, her flesh burning with pain.

She heard Y’shtola calling out to her. Straining, Twilight tried to turn and right herself, her pegasus instincts and reflexes kicking in, but she had no time. Her fall was broken when she slammed side-first into the dry trunk of a long-dead desert tree. The air fled her lungs in place of a scream, and she toppled to the earth below with a gasp of agony.

“I think not, Princess,” a voice she had been dreading to hear again said from above and before her. Gasping and choking for air, she lifted her head, gritting her teeth in defiance. Scarmiglione floated above and in front of her, his lips curled up into a sinister smirk. “This day, your battle is with me.”

Nearby, Y’shtola’s eyes widened. The spell she was preparing sparked and faltered as she took in the presence of the new arrival. “Twelve forfend. An ascian!?”

“Scarmiglione. I think you know him well enough,” Y’sanna said in a tone that could almost be considered conversational. As she spoke, she was readying her next spell without missing a beat. “Seems your pet can take to the skies nowadays. Thought I’d even the playing field.”

Her aether boiled a putrid purple and green, bubbling to critical mass before surging toward Y’shtola. The other miqo’te, in turn, silently cursed her momentary distraction before throwing herself aside. This act only served to deepen the gap between herself and Twilight, a gap which the ascian was quick to step into.

“And so here we find ourselves at least,” the ascian calmly began. “I will confess, I made a mistake when I left you to roam freely in these lands. A momentary miscalculation after our previous bout. A mistake I now mean to correct.”

Twilight grit her teeth as she painfully pulled herself back to her hooves. She looked past Scarmiglione to where Y’shtola remained embattled with Y’sanna. The two mages were clashing again, Y’sanna’s bestial ferocity proving to be an even match for Y’shtola’s stalwart determination.

She had to help.

“Get… get out of my way!” she shouted, lighting her horn and dragging her book back to her side.

The ascian’s smirk fell away. He raised her hand and held it out towards the alicorn with darkness building around his clawed fingertips. “That is all you have to say? I expected questions at the very least. Or has this festering world twisted your priorities?”

“Like you’d even tell me if I asked!” she shouted back. “Basic bad guy stuff. You’re not the first dark magic-using jerk I’ve faced, you know!”

Scarmiglione’s expression darkened considerably. “Do not presume to compare me to the likes of your petty rogues,” he seethed. “You know nothing of me or my motives. You know nothing of our purpose. Nothing of our struggle!”

His hand crackled, and another surge of dark energies shot out at Twilight. The alicorn on her part gave her wings an almighty flap, sending her shooting up into the air. The spell impacted where she had been and made debris of her fall-breaking tree. Nevertheless, she flipped her book open and called forth ruin towards the ascian.

Almost lazily he waved his hand, the spell striking a barrier of shadow that nullified it instantly.

“Your powers have left you. Mine have not,” he noted coldly.

Twilight gasped as she suddenly felt the air forced from her lungs. Shadowy binds appeared from nothing, snaking around her body and holding her unceremoniously in the air, her wings pinned painfully to her sides. She struggled, biting at the binds before her muzzle, too was entrapped.

“Your element will serve a grand purpose. A purpose nobler than you could imagine, pony. And now, so will you. Your secrets will be mine.”

There was a sharp thud, Scarmiglione letting out a gasp of surprise as his binds came free and he was forced to catch himself from stumbling to the ground. As Twilight fell and caught herself beneath her own wings once more, the masked man turned to see the source of the disruption.

The shimmering carbuncle yipped in defiance, driving its head towards the ascian once more. He snarled at the petty creation.

“Pathetic.”

He slapped the carbuncle aside, sending it toward the ground before he quickly returned his gaze to his intended quarry.

He didn’t need to look far. The alicorn dove forward and unleashed a violent blast of undirected and malformed aether from her horn that sent the ascian sliding back in the dirt. Before he could react he was buffeted again by a gust from his right, his peripheral vision catching the Scion rolling back towards him after avoiding one of Y’sanna’s spells.

“I think not! We defy your accursed ‘nobility’,” Y’shtola spat, sending one more wave towards the ascian before being forced to turn away and prepare a defence against the still-fuming Y’sanna.

“Oh no, you don’t get to ignore me!” the imperial seethed, her own book flaring out and placing a barrier around Scarmiglione that absorbed the worst of the impact. “No last-minute saves for you!”

Twilight saw the interaction occur as she circled for another pass, looking down towards her recovering carbuncle and whistling for its attention.

“Carbuncle-I-really-should-name, turn up the heat!”

The creation seemed to puff up at the command, bounding towards the ascian as its sparkling blue exterior darkened to a shade of ruby. Waves of heat rose around the creature before unleashing waves of flame simultaneous to Twilight’s next concussive strike.

Shadows billowed around the ascian, sequestering the man away from both strikes as the umbral portal reemerged on the other side of Y’sanna and Y’shtola.

“Begone!”

He raised both his hands and three darkened crackling clouds materialized before him and shot off towards his three opponents. As Y’shtola turned to face the latest threat, she was blindsided as Y’sanna ran up and delivered a meaty kick to her stomach, staggering the woman as any prepared spell died before it could be materialized.

Twilight twisted in the air, moving up and over the projectile meant for her before flipping through her book and shielding the Scion from the next. Her carbuncle, in turn, let the blazing heat build around him as he bulldozed his way through the spell. On the other side, he was battered, his form flickering, but yet functional.

“Now we’re even!” Twilight shouted at Y’sanna, landing next to the miqo’te, a red bolt of magic rising from the alicorn and out towards her.

The Pilus side-stepped the energy drain, snarling with fangs glistening in hunger.

Whatever her counter, it was cut short when she was knocked away by a magically propelled group of rocks, blood splattering as a gash was left across the side of her head. Y’shtola, not missing a beat, brought her wand around with a second gathering and released it towards the ascian. He, in turn, gave a shout of rage as a pulse of darkness shattered the boulders. The shadowy energy lingered for a moment, then pulsed with power before shifting and cascading toward the pair.

Twilight took a step forward, gathering magic and preparing a cast of the aegis to deflect the oncoming surge of shadows. Y’shtola seemed to have the same idea, throwing her arms wide and erecting a dome of blue light around them to catch the oncoming surge of aether. Twilight’s aegis joined the dome right as the wave of shadow struck them. A spear of pain shot down Twilight’s horn and through her nervous system as their combined barrier was placed under severe strain. The air split with the sound of breaking glass as cracks appeared across the surface of the barrier.

Y’shtola growled beside her, straining under the force of the assault herself. “Gah! He has me pinned!” she spat in frustration.

Twilight grunted, knowing she was in the same position. They could probably outlast the spell Scarmiglione was sending at them, but to do so would leave them vulnerable to Y’sanna, and the longer they maintained the barrier, the more aether they would waste. They needed a way to disrupt the attack.

Her eyes darted off to one side. She saw her carbuncle there, circling around, clearly looking for an avenue to help. Another series of cracks appeared across the dome, and Twilight fell to a knee as another sharp lance of pain went through her system. “Carbuncle! Defend!” she commanded, sending Aether down the link to her familiar.

The carbuncle’s nose twitched, and its tails shuddered as if a chill ran down its spine. Then, with a high-pitched battle squeal, it loped forward, energy gathering along its form. Bit by bit, it began to shift its hue from brilliant ruby red to a dazzling topaz orange. Twilight’s eyes widened as the flames it had conjured earlier dissipated with a burst of air and rippling heat waves. Then, it thrust its head up, and the earth in front of the barrier erupted.

A cloud of dust and scattering pebbles burst from the ground as a wall of stone was forcefully pulled into the space between the defending duo and Scarmiglione. With that third, far more substantial layer of defence between them, the tide of darkness came to an end, and the two mages were free to refocus their aether.

Y’shtola grinned, her wand glowing with similarly coloured light. “An excellent choice,” she declared before thrusting her wand forward. The stone wall before them cracked before exploding forward with tremendous force, a tidal wave of jagged stones swarming for the startled ascian. Scarmiglione cursed and dropped down out of the air, still being pummeled by stones as he descended. The moment his feet met the earth, Twilight’s carbuncle pounced, latching onto his arm and keeping him off balance.

Twilight smiled and took a step forward. This was her chance! She flipped open her book and began gathering the aether required for ruin, hoping to finish this enemy off once and for all. She hesitated only for a moment as the memory of an imperial officer, his face mangled beneath the shorn remnants of his metal helm, flashed through her mind. She dismissed it quickly. She hated the ascians. She hated the empire, and they were trying to kill her and her friends. She couldn’t afford to show mercy now. Not here. This wasn’t Equestria, and it was well past time she stopped treating it like it was.

She pointed her tome forward and prepared to release the spell, targeting Scarmiglione’s mask.

In the corner of her eye, something moved. Something red.

Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat, realizing what was coming a second too late. Y’sanna’s newly re-summoned crimson carbuncle pounced upon her, and its sharp teeth latched onto her horn.

Searing pain, unlike most Twilight had felt before, reverberated through her skull. The flow of her magic was abruptly cut off, intermingling in unnatural ways with the aether of the carbuncle whose claws tore at the skin of her cheek, neck, and shoulder. She fell to one side, screaming at the top of her lungs, a pressure building in her skull. Her spell had nowhere to go, blocked by the carbuncle as it was. She couldn’t cast her spell properly!

She heard Y’shtola crying out her name, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond that. The pressure continued to build and build, and her skull felt as if it was about to burst. She screwed her eyes shut and screamed at the top of her lungs as, at last, the spell discharged off the mid-point of her horn: Raw, unfocused, and indiscriminate.

The world went white, and the chaotic din of the battle was replaced with an ear-splitting ringing in her ears. The sharp burn of the carbuncle’s claws was replaced with a deep, all-consuming ache. She felt herself jostling and jolting as the kickback and burst of her improperly cast ruin spell sent her rolling along the ground. When she finally came to a stop, her world was a red-tinted blur, and everything was pins and needles under a blanket of agony.

She heard Y’shtola calling out again and looked up. The miqo’te was charging her, green magics swirling around her wand as she prepared a healing spell. She didn’t make it. A blast of darkness slammed into Y’shtola from the side, knocking her into the air. She came down hard, her side slamming into a jutting stone with a sickening crack. Twilight watched, helpless, as her friend crumpled into the earth, and the healing energies that had been meant for the fallen alicorn instead had to be turned to Y’shtola.

Twilight grunted, the need to help her friend driving her on. She tried to stand, but her muscles refused to collaborate with her commands. She twitched and spasmed on the earth, and fire danced along her nerves. Panic was already beginning to build within her heart. What had that misfired spell done to her?! Had it damaged her nerves? Her spine?! Was she suffering brain damage of some sort?!

As if in answer she felt something warm leaking down her face. Something crimson.

A lot of crimson.

Up ahead, she saw Y’sanna’s fang-filled smirk staring back at her, and Scarmiglione marching toward her with single-minded purpose. The last glittering remnants of Twilight’s carbuncle lay in the earth behind him, crumbling away to vanish into the air.

“A good effort,” Scarmiglione commented, now looming over her. “But ultimately futile.”

Twilight let off a dry, gurgling groan, her heart pounding unevenly in her ears. She reached a trembling foreleg out to him and curled it into the fabric around his ankles. She glared up into his eyes, trying and failing to call magic to her horn. “I… hate you,” she seethed, any and all notions of hesitation dispelled.

Scarmiglione’s smile faded. For a moment, he just looked at her. He then glanced back over his shoulder at Y’sanna. “Pilus. You have the rest under control, I take it?”

“Just take the prize and get gone,” Y’sanna bit back, her crimson monstrosity already spawning at her side again. She had moved to put herself between Twilight and Y’shtola as the other miqo’te picked herself up. “Leave the harpy to me.”

Y’shtola was back on her feet by now, her eyes narrowed with unrivalled rage. She lifted her wand, aether gathering around her in a violent storm of crackling energy. “Step away from her!” she shouted at Scarmiglione before rising her wand into the air.

Above them, Twilight saw a swirling mass of green aether in the air, crackling with gathering power. Her eyes widened, the raw destructive force within so monstrously powerful that she could feel it in her bones.

Scarmiglione smiled. “As you command,” he said mockingly before lifting a hand into the air. Darkness gathered around him… and the alicorn still clutching onto his robes. Twilight’s eyes widened, and she realized her mistake too late to let go. The darkness came in around her as it had the day she first met the ascian. She heard Y’shtola screaming as a shard of the sky itself broke away to fall upon their location like a judge’s gavel.

But by the time it hit the earth, they were already gone.

24 - Fangs Bared

Y’shtola watched, mortified, as Scarmiglione vanished in a swirl of darkness. Twilight disappeared along with him, the alicorn’s bloodied and burned face contorted with fury and fear. A surge of adrenaline pulsed through Y’shtola’s veins, accompanied by a rush of power as she gathered the aether left scattered across the battlefield. It coalesced in the sky above Scarmiglione, an orb of pulsating green amid a swirling storm of blackened clouds. With a shout of rage, Y’shtola brought her wand down, sending the blast careening for the smirking ascian.

It arrived too late. The blast struck only unoccupied earth. A cloud of dust was kicked up alongside a powerful shockwave that nearly knocked Y’shtola off her feet. She took a step back, bracing herself. She grit her teeth. “Twilight!” she shouted, a hand reaching out. But it was no good. The dust parted, and Twilight was gone.

Off to the side, she heard an impressed whistle, followed by a string of condescending claps. “Ooooh, is the big kitty angry?” Y’sanna purred with a vindictive smirk. Y’shtola turned on her, her eyes narrowing and her teeth bared in a furious snarl. Y’sanna was unfazed. If anything, she enjoyed it. “About time something busted down that facade of prim perfection.”

There were a thousand things Y’shtola wanted to say. Scathing retorts and bitter comebacks that would break down Y’sanna’s bravado. A string of insults to vent Y’shtola’s frustrations. But she bit her tongue. She merely lifted her wand.

Y’sanna’s grin faded. “What? No words for me this time?”

Aether began to swirl around Y’shtola. The winds bent to her command, and chunks of stone tore themselves up and out of the earth behind her. The winds swirled around them, chiselling away at and forming the stone into sharpened spears surrounded on all sides by razor-sharp shards. “None.” she allowed herself to say.

And then she attacked.

The trio of sharpened stone spikes flew toward Y’sanna at Y’shtola’s command, accompanied by a hailstorm of debris. Y’sanna stepped back, her hand rising and magic flashing from her book. A wall of glowing blue hexagons flashed into existence, intercepting the incoming projectiles. Y’shtola took a step forward to match Y’sanna’s retreat, her wand moving with precision. The earth beneath Y’sanna’s feet trembled and cracked, and the miqo’te traitor’s eyes flew wide.

Y’shtola’s frustration, Y’sanna leapt back just in time to evade the two slabs of earth swinging up to crush her between their bulk. They came together with a thunderous crash and a cloud of dust, forming an obelisk of crumbling stone. With another turn of Y’shtola’s wand, more aether obeyed her will and said obelisk shattered into a thousand stones. All flying toward Y’sanna. The woman barely had time to cry out before she was sent falling to the earth in a crumpled heap. Chunks of rock as large as a roegadyn’s fist pummeled into her from above, and Y’shtola felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound of the traitor’s cries.

Another step. Another turn of Y’shtola’s wand. The trees of Thanalan were dead more often than not, but this close to the border with the Shroud, there was enough life in them yet to heed her will. Wood and leaves came away from the few nearby trees with echoing cracks, snaps, and whistles. They surged for Y’sanna, seeking to bury her in a maelstrom of natural fury.

A burst of aether erupted from Y’sanna’s tome, and the onslaught was dispersed. A grey orb of crackling magic shot out of the resultant dust cloud for Y’shtola’s head. She side-stepped, never taking her eyes off her quarry. No time for distraction. End it. Put her down.

Movement, to the side. Y’shtola knew what it was already and turned to face it, lifting a hand to conjure a half-dome of blue light before her. The crimson carbuncle battered against it with a feral shriek, its claws and fangs scraping fruitlessly against the wall of aether. Y’shtola scowled at it, showing her own fangs, then pushed her barrier forward. The carbuncle blinked, then cried out as it was pushed relentlessly into the dirt. Its body compressed under the weight, ballooning, and pancaking. There was a strangled squeak and a froth of foam before the abomination shattered like a dropped wine glass.

Y’sanna was back on her feet at this point, her book open to a new page. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead. Her eyes were wide and blazing with rage. “You absolute bitch!” she shrieked as aether swirled around her.

Y’shtola turned to her, already preparing to counter whatever Y’sanna’s next spell was going to be.

The aether around Y’sanna formed into two diagonally intersecting rings of glowing green light. They spun rapidly around her, gaining momentum and emitting a keening pulse, rising in pitch.

Y’shtola’s eyes widened. She knew that spell! It was a common tool in the kits of most mages, temporarily accelerating the mind and the body for a few short seconds. It allowed the caster to follow up with another spell almost instantly - typically, ones that required more time and lengthy incantations to cast. It was used sparingly due to the toll it took on the caster, but one only needed a couple of seconds.

Y’sanna’s spell went off before Y’shtola could even step to the side. Three orbs of crimson shot forward and attached to Y’shtola’s chest. She felt a horrible pulling sensation, and agony blossomed through her torso. She cried out, trying to break free, but the tendrils had already gotten what they came for. Y’sanna pulled on them like a whip, and they tore from Y’shtola’s chest with a wet plop and a spray of blood. They swirled once, then blasted back into Y’shtola. A peeling shriek of magic lanced through her ears. The force of the blast threw her off her feet to crumple into the dirt several yards back.

The Pilus watched her Y’shtola fall before, with her eyes ablaze with impassioned fury, stepping through devastated flora. She flipped through the pages of her tome, her dilated pupils remaining fixed on the other miqo’te as the woman struggled to put weight beneath her and get back up.

Giving her no chance at all, Y’sanna delivered a kick to Y’shtola’s face, eliciting a pained cry from the Scion before the imperial planted her book on the crux of her back and pressed her further into the dirt.

“You and yours just have to keep struggling,” Y’sanna spat, twisting her boot painfully. “Even when it’s stupid and futile! Well, seems I was the wise one in the end! With my hypothesis proven, let me show you my conclusions!”

Y’sanna gripped her book, aetherial energies gathering for a finishing blow. Y’shtola grimaced, gripping her wand as she called with all her might to a spell that may yet change the course of the fight. Yet the requirements of aether were too great, too slow to collect. Compared to Y’sanna’s own cast, and with the Scion’s battered state, the chances of beating her to the draw were all but non-existent.

But Y’sanna’s words hit one truth, giving up was never an option for Y’shtola. She had to fight until the heavens fell. Until her last breath. For the missing Scions. Minfillia, Thancred, Urianger, Tataru, Papalymo…

Twilight.

Thwack.

“Gah!” Y’sanna shouted in pain, her spell fizzling out as she stumbled forward and off of her prey. An arrow was lodged into the miqo’te’s shoulder, with blood pouring from both ends of the wound.

Wherever it had come from, Y’shtola could only thank the Twelve as a flurry of green magical energies erupted around her, orbs of light spinning high around her in a maelstrom of aether. In the span of a heartbeat, nearly all of her wounds were sealed, each drop of blood wiped away, and her body’s energy replenished. Y’shtola was practically glowing with near-holy light as she hovered from the ground and back to her feet.

Yet the toll was plain, for where her health, in an act of benediction, could not have been better, she couldn’t help but pant as she felt the pangs of aether sickness.

“Seven hells!” a hyuran voice called out, Y’shtola glancing at it from the corner of her eye, yet keeping the majority of her gaze on her foe. “I knew you’d all bring trouble! How far did you get from the temple? Five feet? Ten?”

“Not far enough for our foe’s liking. My thanks, Einar,” Y’shtola spoke genuinely, levelling her wand toward the imperial. “But we are not yet finished, and I would hate to miss revising such a poorly written hypothesis as this!”

“Piss… off…” Y’sanna seethed in turn, the glare in her eyes not diminishing for a moment.

The fiery miqo’te took ahold of the arrow’s shaft, clenching her fist and breaking it free. She wasted no time in flicking her book open and sending two consecutive concussive blasts toward Y’shtola, the Scion redirecting one with a burst of wind and a second against a thin barrier of aether.

“You… are still weak! And I’m going to break you!”

Y’shtola countered, swishing her wand forward and sending another wave of wind towards Y’sanna to stumble the woman, not even speaking as she brought her wand to her chest and began her subsequent cast.

She switched the aether within her, letting white give way to black. A fire lit within her, a fury easily rivaling Y’sanna’s own bringing forth energies of pure destruction in lieu of her usual practices.

This had to end. No one else would be hurt by this fiend’s obsessions!

Her magic erupted, and a fantastic fireball that would make Ifrit himself proud burst forth around her and was sent hurtling toward Y’sanna with a fervour unrivalled. Y’sanna’s eyes widened, her own rage replaced with shock and terror as she placed her book forward in some attempt to catch the blow. The imperial further channelled aether into its pages, the fireball colliding in a kaleidoscope of flashing light, reds, yellows, and oranges versus the blues of her barrier. The effort was for nought, however. Her barrier evaporated around her, and whatever remained failed to fully protect her from the brunt of the flames as they enveloped her.

The detonation was a sight to behold, setting the remaining trees alight as Y’sanna was hurled backwards and into the brush. Her skin boiled, bones broke, and she skidded to a halt with nothing but lingering hate keeping her eyes open and soul in its mortal coil.

Y’sthola was having none of it, immediately approaching and preparing a follow-up, flames building around her wand. Her expression was cool, unassuming. Total concentration and sinister calm disguised the fire within.

And then she felt it, her head pounding as her spell died upon her lips. An emptiness within, reserves empty as she stumbled in place, hand rising to her head with a low grunt.

Y’sanna didn’t waste the chance.

Capitalizing on her foe’s moment of aetherial sickness, the imperial feebly reached for the charred remains of her spellbook and took ahold of the decrepit tome.

“Fuck…”

There was a flash, an invasive influx of white that pierced the eyes of Y’sthola and Einar, shielding Y’sanna from spell and arrow alike and concealing all for several moments.

And when those moments passed, all Y’shtola spied was the lingering whisps of teleportation magicks whisking Y’sanna away to whichever aetheryte she was attuned to.

Y’shtola felt the urge to growl but found she had no energy left. She staggered off to one side and slumped against the still-hot trunk of a nearby tree. “Damn her…” she panted. The adrenaline was starting to bleed out of her, and with it, the energy to stand. She slumped onto the ground, back against the tree, and closed her eyes.

Footsteps. Tiredly, Y’shtola opened her eyes and looked up. Einar came to a stop a few feet from her, a vial filled with blue liquid held in his hand. He held it out to her. “Here. Drink up,” he instructed. “Oughta get you back on your feet.”

Y’shtola nodded and gratefully took the potion. She could not care less about the taste as it swam down her throat, but the results were undeniable. The potion restored some of her strength, chasing away the worst of her exhaustion. She was still far from being at her best, but at least now she could stand. And so she did, on wobbly legs.

“My thanks again, Einar,” she said weakly.

Einar grunted, slinging his bow over his shoulder. “You owe me a bunch, now. Info, saving your skin, and giving you my last good potion,” he pointed out, crossing his arms. “But… since you were using my help to blow up that imperial bitch, I think that’s repayment enough.”

Y’shtola rolled her eyes. She glanced at the smouldering crater where her impromptu offensive spell had hit. She frowned. That spell had decidedly not been conjury, and it showed. For all of the destructive power it had, she had been ill-prepared to properly channel it. She looked down at her wand and grimaced. The tips of the branches were blackened and charred from channelling an unfamiliar element. She’d have to get a replacement.

And the worst part? Y’sanna had still managed to escape. Y’shtola’s hand clenched tightly around her wand into a white-knuckled fist. “Nay. Y’sanna yet lives. And my friend was captured.”

“What, the carbuncle?” Einar asked incredulously. “Can’t you just summon it back?”

Y’shtola shook her head, putting her wand away. “I am afraid it’s not so simple,” she said with a shake of her head. “And I’ve no time to explain. One more now wants for rescue, and I’ll be damned if I leave her to her fate any longer than necessary.”

Einar shrugged. “Well, whatever. I’ve done my part - more than my part, really. So you go on and save your friends. I’m gonna go save mine.”

Y’shtola nodded. “Of course. Be safe, Einar.”

Einar grunted. Without another word, he turned and walked away. She watched him go for a moment, offering a silent prayer to the Twelve for his safety, and then for the safety of the Scions imprisoned by the empire. Her brow furrowed, and she turned down the road, beginning at a brisk pace for Drybone. She was still unsteady on her feet, but it didn’t matter. She had places to go, and she could always rent a chocobo from the desert settlement.

“Just hang on, Twilight,” she said quietly. “I will see you safe.”

A sky smothered in endless blue smog. Marching regimes of soldiers. The clank and clatter of lumbering engines of war. All hells-bent on conquering and subjugating a land clinging desperately to its independence.

Twilight’s world was pain. She cracked open her eyes, only to immediately regret the decision. Her head pounded and burned, her horn tingled, and she felt her forelegs tremble and twitch of their own accord. Pins and needles danced up and down her spine, drawing a hiss of discomfort out of her. Definitely nerve damage, she concluded, the diagnosis almost automatic.

She was in movement. A sense of weightlessness sent her stomach flipping. She finally managed to crack open her eyes and get a look at her surroundings.

The first thing she saw was blue smog smothering the sky over her head. Monoliths of serrated steel and blue flame drifted lazily, but purposefully, through the sky all around her. The voices of men shouting orders and issuing instructions echoed into her ears, distant but audible. As her head lolled to one side, she saw a sprawling complex of yet more blackened iron spread across the shadowed deserts of Thanalan far below.

An impregnable fortress, its spires filling the heavens with their vicious silhouettes. The rumble of pump and pipe, draining the land of all it was worth. The stench of their waste upon the wind, polluting land and sky. The steady, endless rhythm of the imperial war machine.

Twilight turned her head when she spotted someone standing beside her. Scarmiglione smirked back at her, one hand raised and swirling with shadow. She was held in a similar aura of darkness, suspended in the air beside him. She tried to bare her teeth at him, but all she could do was grimace in discomfort.

“Try not to move, your Highness,” Scarmiglione said, his tone mocking her title. “You will only hurt yourself.”

Twilight opened her mouth to offer some bitter retort, but all that came out was an agonized groan. The world flickered and blurred around her as another tingling wave of pain coursed through her body.

Somewhere nearby, a metallic door slid open, and armoured footsteps emerged. Twilight looked up to see several imperials approaching her. The one in the lead wore very distinct armour, coloured a rich, bloody red. His self-satisfied smirk at her sorry condition told her all she needed to know about him.

“Ah, and at long last, the mysterious alicorn is brought before me,” the imperial said. He frowned, eyeing Twilight up and down. “And rather the worse for wear… You didn’t damage it beyond repair, did you, Ascian?”

Scarmiglione shook his head. “Nay. She is battered, but it should be well within my powers to see her back to full health,” he said confidently. “A day is all I shall need. Then she is all yours, Nero.”

Nero grinned in a manner that made Twilight’s spine tingle with disgust. “So be it,” he said, then turned to the troops beside him and clapped his hands. “Take her to a cell!”

The soldiers saluted. “Yes sir!”

They clustered around Twilight. Cold hands took hold of her hooves and barrel. She tried to squirm and fight back as the Ascian’s magical hold disappeared, but there was no strength left in her ruined body. She was powerless to do anything as the empire hauled her into the halls of the black steel fortress that loomed over them.

As the massive doors sealed me within the beating heart of the empire’s fortress, I know that the final chapter of my time in this world had begun. A chapter marked by fire, blood, and the light of Ancient magic.

Scarmiglione watched Twilight being carted off, crossing his arms over his chest as she went. Nero remained by him, smirking at the feebly squirming alicorn with barely concealed fascination. When the massive metal doors rolled shut, Nero spoke. “Even with my readings, I still find it hard to believe that such power as you described could reside in something so… small.”

Scarmiglione flashed the engineer a glance. “Small or not, she is powerful.”

Nero frowned but then shrugged his agreement. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. If small things had no power, I doubt those cabbages of the Shroud could conjure Ramuh.”

Smarmiglione nodded and opened his mouth to say something further. The words died in his throat, however, when he felt something shifting around him. The shadows nearby darkened and deepened, and an unmistakable sensation of being watched tingled in the back of his neck. A chill crept down his spine. Lahabrea, he realized.

Stiffy, Scarmiglione nodded his head to Nero. “R-regardless, I have other matters to which I must attend. We shall speak again later,” he said, perhaps too quickly.

Nero quirked a brow at him, then shrugged. “Ever on the move, you ascians… fine, fine, be on your way. I need to return to the Ultima Weapon, regardless. The time’s come for its first field test, and lord Van Baelsar will have my head if I’m not on top of things,” he lamented. With that, he set off back into the depths of the Praetorium, leaving Scarmiglione alone on the landing.

The moment the door shut behind the engineer, the unmistakable boom and rush of darkness echoed from behind Scarmiglione. He turned around uneasily. Lahabrea stood in the open air just beyond the edge of the platform, his arms crossed and his visible lips pulled down into a furious scowl.

“Lahabrea,” Scarmiglione greeted, his expression as neutral as he could make it. He felt some measure of relief that his mask hid the fear in his eyes. Not that he imagined Lahabrea would be fooled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lahabrea’s snarl deepened, the unsundered overlord glaring death at the lesser ascian. “You were warned. The will of the Convocation was made clear, and yet here you remain. It is as if the coming ardour is but an afterthought to you. You scheme and plot as if we were yet ignorant.”

Scarmiglione’s gloved hand balled into a fist, and in spite of the immense presence before him, he couldn’t help but snarl in turn.

“And yet I was right! All of my research shows that the light of that world will be sufficient, and now I hold the key to unlock the Element’s power! If a bridge across the rift can be established, then things will proceed apace. The Tribunus has reported success in his studies, and now we have its owner.”

“And in doing so you defy our judgment. If one of my own Words cannot do as he is bid, then I have no further use for it!”

Lahabrea clenched his fist. In but a moment, tendrils of shadow coiled from the metal surfaces surrounding them and ensnared Scarmiglione. The shadows burned at his flesh through his robes, pulling him from his feet and to his knees. He gasped in surprise as he was brought to a low stance of supplication before the overlord. Lahabrea’s crimson glyph flashed threateningly across his face.

The overlord went on, his voice low with bitter condescension. “And all of this effort for a position that is beyond your grasp. Do you truly believe yourself worthy of the seat you so pine for? Perhaps I needn’t act at all. Emet-Selch would be more than happy to see your hubris put to rest.”

“For Lord Zodiark’s will, I beseech you to listen before you act!” Scarmiglione practically begged, feebly struggling against his restraints and making enough progress to stand once more. His own glyph flashed over his face, as it took all of his strength merely to stand his ground. “Without the Thirteenth, He will forever remain incomplete! I offer a solution the Convocation cannot ignore! Cannot afford to ignore!”

Lahabrea remained unmoved. “With risks beyond measure.”

“Have we not toiled for aeons? Lived uncountable lives and suffered for our star in ways beyond the comprehension of any mortal?” Scarmiglione pointed out. “For those we have lost, and for those we would see saved, I believe that the risk is more than acceptable. Complete as these ponies may be, as caretakers of our star, do we not have a responsibility here first and foremost? Are such equines truly worth more than the lives of those who gave theirs?”

And then, despite his position, Scarmiglione managed a sickening sneer that Lahabrea couldn’t help but be taken aback by.

“Are they worth more than your son’s?”

The bonds tightened around Scarmiglione. He tried to scream but was only able to gasp in pain. His glyph shattered and he fell once more to the ground. The tendrils boiled against him, searing his soul.

“Do not presume you may use Erichthonios to your advantage, cretin. You know nothing. NOTHING!”

His hand flexed as the tendrils tightened further, a twitching grin upon Lahabrea’s face.

And then, to Scarmiglione’s shock, the tendrils released. Gasping desperately for the air granted by his newfound freedom, Scarmiglione crumpled to the metal floor in a curled heap.

Lahabrea loomed over him. “All the same, you do raise valid points. And I have neither the time nor patience to properly punish you for your indiscretions. So consider this an opportunity to convince me. Do as you will. I will judge the results of your work as they transpire. But be warned that should I find your work wanting, then there is no limit to the suffering I will bring down upon you.”

“Of course,” Scarmiglione rasped, his body quivering in pain. He did not dare try to stand, however. Not yet. “I understand…”

Lahabrea glared down at him for several seconds longer. The fury from a moment ago had all but faded away, replaced with passionless boredom. The overlord turned away. “I now go to oversee the first field test for the Ultima Weapon. Use the time wisely, for you have precious little. When the rejoining has come to pass, and the world is that much restored, then I will examine the merits of your claims. This is your only chance, Scarmiglione.”

A swirl of darkness consumed Lahabrea, taking him to a place the lesser ascian was not privy. To the side of van Baelsar, perhaps? To the weapon itself? He cared little, his face lighting aflame with rage. He stood back up, shaking on his feet, and glared at the now empty spot.

“So says Lahabrea... Whole, and yet tainted in an altogether different manner. Unsundered indeed,” he openly mocked the air. He lifted his eyes up to the air. “We shall see who is worthy of their seat by the end… Hephaistos.”

His eyes turned to the facility itself, and the subject that was now being secured within. His rage gave way to an anticipating smile, determination flooding his body as he felt destiny growing ever closer…

“And you are going to help me, my little pony… Soon now. Very soon…”

And somewhere deep within the praetorium, newly deposited in her cell and left alone in the cold and the dark, Twilight Sparkle couldn’t help but shudder.

25 - Black Steel

Following the end of her battle with Y’shtola, Y’sanna did not have a good time. There was the burning pain of her injuries, yes, but it was made so, so much worse when combined with the infinitely more painful sting of another defeat at the harpy’s hands. She had been forced to carry both pains with her as she sought out the rally point, secluded and far removed from the sightlines of the Eorzeans so she could await extraction. The imperial medicus’ who had met her had done his level best to tend her wounds, but the pain lingered.

The airship ride had felt longer than it was. With no portholes in the dark steel of an imperial transport, she had no reliable means of tracking the passage of the world outside. All she had to go off of was the occasional rattling of the hull and the incessant ticking of her own thoughts, neither of which were particularly useful measurements of time. She could have been sitting back there for hours or days and she’d be none the wiser.

A small, paranoid voice in the back of her head jeered at her that she would be back here for days, left to starve and rot in metallic isolation for her failure. Or that her superiors would see fit to have her ejected out of the back of the airship over the waters of Lake Silvertear. Sure, they got the alicorn. But the Ascian had made off with that particular target. She was quick to dismiss any notions of her dismissal, however. Gaius would never stand for such a thing, she told herself. I’m too useful.

Then again, it wasn’t Lord van Baelsar’s approval she had to worry about…

Thankfully, it appeared the pilot had no intentions of covert ‘disposal.’ After what felt like an eternity, the man’s voice echoed, tinny and laced with static, over the airship’s speaker system. “We’re coming up on the Castrum now, ma’am,” he said.

Y’sanna nodded. “Good.” She lowered her hand to her carbuncle, the creature having refused to be dismissed ever since she made it onto the airship. Its chin rested comfortably in her lap, its eyes closed. She gave the resting familiar a few idle pets between its ears, and she heard a content chittering in response.

The engines of the airship thrummed louder, and the hull creaked and groaned. Y’sanna sighed before nudging her carbuncle off her lap and standing up. She braced herself, one hand taking hold of a support handle as the airship landed. The floor lurched beneath her with an echoing clang, and a lance of fiery pain shot up her leg, a reminder that she was still far from her best. She clenched her teeth, taking advantage of her isolation to freely release a hiss of pain.

A clank and a grind later, and Y’sanna descended the ramp of the airship. Blackened skies tinted with blue smog over the dark steel of Castrum Meridianum. The stench of ceruleum and machine oil hung thick in the air, joined by the ever-present clanking of armoured footsteps sprinting this way and that. Even at this late hour, the empire’s soldiers were hard at work.

A tall man in the garb of an imperial officer awaited her farther down the landing platform. He approached, his head held high. By his posture and the self-assured swagger of his stride, she knew he was a pureblooded garlean. He came to a stop not far from her, his hands folding behind his back. “Y’sanna rem Extorris. Nero tol Scaeva awaits your report at the central keep’s landing platform. Do not keep him waiting.”

His tone was all contempt and condemnation. But Y’sanna did not say a word. She knew if she opened her mouth, even with the intent to recognize the instruction, she’d likely only let slip a scathing remark that would cause more drama than it would be worth. She merely took a deep breath, threw a swift salute, and went on her way.

The walk through the metal highways of the castrum was long and uneventful, but far from peaceful. The soldiers were doing more than routine maintenance, she soon realized. The magitek armaments were being prepared and tuned up for battle. The soldiers were performing last-minute drills or having stations assigned to them. The skies were alight with far more warships than usual. Are the tribunes preparing for the final push? Y’sanna wondered. The Ultima Weapon had been close to ready when she had been deployed with Scarmiglione…

Such questions were pushed from her mind when she stepped into the Castrum’s central keep. Several checkpoints of laser security and keycodes later, she passed through sliding metal doors and out onto another landing pad, this one far larger, and host to another string of airships. Up ahead, sure enough, was Nero. He stood on an elevated platform, overseeing the transport of a string of cargo crates being wheeled out of airships she did not recognize. Y’sanna frowned. The markings on those crates mark them as from the Ala Mhigan province… she realized. What was Nero doing with a shipment from that sandy backwater?

She shook the musings from her mind. She had far more pressing concerns to focus on. Namely, Nero, who at present seemed far more interested in his cargo manifest than acknowledging her presence.

“Yes yes, very good…” Nero drolled to a group of conscripts dragging a heavy load from the supply vessel. “Do give my thanks to the Crown Prince, won’t you? If the little monster even cares to hear it.”

“O-of course, sir!”

Nero gave an impatient huff. “Did I say you could speak? These marvels of science await no one and I won’t be wasting time on further pleasantries. Chop chop! Discoveries need to be made and our new guest is languishing when she could be contributing to my- the Empire’s glory!”

The conscripts doubled their pace at that, even seemingly near to collapse as they were. All knew the man’s fickle impatience all too well. Y’sanna would be more inclined to scoff at them if she wasn’t already on dreadfully thin ice. Something that was all the more apparent when she finally saw Scaeva afford her the briefest of side glances.

“Ah, and speaking of languishing… You return, and the pony has arrived ahead of you. In that respect, I have to admit that I am pleasantly surprised and impressed. You achieved your primary objective. So well done for that, I suppose.”

Y’sanna felt a weight immediately fall away from her chest, letting out a breath she’d kept bottled within for hours. Praise was the least she had expected…

“Of course, it was the ascian that made the delivery.”

And there was that weight again.

“It was the quickest method of extraction,” she explained. “The teleportation magicks of a paragon are typically superior to aetheryte travel. Besides that, the alicorn was wounded. She needed treatment, and there was still a battle to be fought.”

“Oh, I quite agree,” Nero conceded. “That you managed to get one of their ilk into, how do they say, ‘playing ball’ was quite a feat in of itself. Even with his unique interests in the matter. Besides, I have glanced at the report you transmitted ahead of your arrival. A plan well executed in all respects…”

He finally looked directly at her, and his expression almost seemed… amused.

“...Almost all respects. After such a solid showing it is a shame that you then had to get yourself trounced by a stick-wielding savage. Again.”

“Bollocks!” Y’sanna blurted out suddenly, something about that smirk acting as a knife in a boil. “Savage, perhaps, but the Scion is far more powerful than any of us expected, wielding magic that one of her persuasion would ordinarily have no business wielding!”

“All I hear are excuses,” Nero retorted in an almost playful manner, unphased by the sudden fire in her posture. “Now, I realize cats do like to play with their prey, but perhaps you should heed the example of your garlean betters and apply the more practical approach of being done with it.”

“I do no play! She was mine! In my grasp, if that intruder hadn’t… Bah! I still got you your pretty little pony, so what do you have to complain about!?”

“Careful, do remember your position compared to mine, Pilus,” Nero chided, his amusement not fading. “But yes, there is truth to that. One magic crystal, and now its former owner, both at my beck and call and ready for all I have planned. Yes, we are finally underway. And with the Ultima Weapon primed and ready, why, I expect at least two holidays named in my honour!”

Y’sanna clenched her fist, before feeling a gentle presence between her feet as her carbuncle nuzzled the side of her ankles. She felt some of the tension in her body bleed away at its pleading, letting out a breath as a semblance of calm returned.

“...And what does Lord Gaius have to say?” she asked him.

“About Ultima? Enough praise to suffice, but he is ever a hard man to please. About the pony? Very little, as we have yet to produce the results required to bring it to his attention. Speaking of which…”

Nero took a step forward, descending from his platform and approaching Y’sanna with an expectant and almost anticipating look in his eyes.

“If the savage truly is too much for you, then I see this as an opportunity.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are too weak to stand against the Scion, that much is plain. And yet here I am, now with the resources necessary to rectify that little inconvenience.”

Y’sanna frowned, taking a suspicious step away from the garlean. An uncomfortable feeling began to creep into the base of her skull. “What do you mean? What are you asking of me?”

“You mean, what am I asking to do for you?” he responded, and Y’sanna watched his hand vanish into a pouch in search of something.

What was brought forth was the now familiar visage of a six-pointed lavender star, the crystal shimmering defiantly in his grasp.

“The crystal…?”

“Quite,” Nero confirmed. “The raw aether imbued within this ‘Element’ is nothing short of miraculous. It far exceeds the trinkets the beasts take to using. And its properties are… Well, suffice it to say we’ve gone through more than a few devices analyzing it. Bloody expensive ones at that, but it was worth the results! It is quite unlike the magicks of our star in many respects, yet so similar at the same time.”

Y’sanna frowned deeper. “That was the hope behind it. It is an artefact from another world, as I understand it. But what does any of this have to do with me? Or the harpy?”

Nero almost looked disappointed at her matter-of-fact approach. “Well, you may have noticed our newest shipment from Ala Mhigo, courtesy of one Aulus mal Asina. It’s heavily in the prototype stages, some theory about transplanting souls or taking the echo from an unwitting savage or two. But then I had a thought… if this ‘Element of Magic’ can lend its strength to our resident princess, as Scarmiglione tells it, then surely we Garleans would be more than worthy of the same treatment?”

Y’sanna eyed the Element. Her ears flattened back. The crystal’s defiance was all but tangible to her arcane senses. She flicked her eyes sceptically back to Nero. “I’m not sure that thing agrees.”

“Alas, not. However…”

“However…” Y’sanna continued. “You think Asina’s theory regarding transplantation might be applied to the Element.”

Nero grinned. “The good doctor’s theory is all but useless when applied to your typical matters of aether, of which we garleans are tragically lacking. But with the crystal here? Imagine it, Pilus… A new generation of garleans with the ability to utilize aether at last, an ability born of my genius, magics from a world afar from our own, and with the potency of a practical goddess! A match for Ms. Sparkle and more… The power to move the heavens themselves! Think of the possibilities! And combine that with further magitek innovations in the mix…”

Y’sanna nodded along, getting the idea. “In short, goodbye to all primals everywhere. Garlemald reigns supreme and the Emperor's mission is complete.”

“Yes, that too. But mostly, I’ll be remembered as the hero to herald it all in,” Nero cheerfully replied. “And Garland will be a footnote forevermore, as it should be.”

“And the alicorn? Where does my latest acquisition fit into this?”

“Her expertise for one, if she can be convinced to share,” the man noted. “And beyond that, well, a live specimen to study will certainly help with understanding the exact nature of this new magic. As will you…”

Y’sanna crossed her arms, her eyes closing in deep thought. She knew exactly where this was going, and she had to admit to the temptation, and yet…

“...As will I when you use me as the lab rat. To make sure it works before you try it on any garlean of pure birth.”

“Naturally.”

Y’sanna grit her teeth behind her lips. The number of risks involved in such a procedure was more than she could count, doubly so since they were dealing with something so far removed from their sphere of experience. If something went wrong, it would almost certainly end in her death, or some other disability that she would never be rid of. If that happened, then everything she had worked for, all of her years of labour and grovelling at the feet of those who were not objectively any better than her would have been for nothing. A corpse cannot rule a province, after all.

But at the same time… What progress had she made thus far, really? Nero hadn’t been far off from the mark, earlier. Y’sanna was weak. Or at least, she was not strong enough. Not on her own, at least. And in this army of supremacists and self-interested conscripts, she had struggled and bled just for the tiny scraps of respect and recognition she had now. And even then, she could mostly attribute that to Lord Gaius’ benevolence over anything else.

She was coming up against her limit, and she knew it. If this treatment could help her break it, would it not be worth the risks…?

“I have to be stronger,” she thought, her brow furrowing. “I have to be strong enough to see this through… This land won’t survive Garlean rule without me to steer it right.”

“Well? What say you, Y’sanna?” Nero pressed after her lengthy silence. “If you’re not interested, I can always make the offer to some other conscript-”

“I’ll do it,” Y’sanna cut him off, snapping open her eyes and meeting his. “I’ll not be looked down on. Not by anyone. Not anymore.”

Nero’s face lit up with a sickening grin. “Aaah, that’s the spirit!” he said, stuffing the Element back into his pocket. He clapped his hands together. “Come, then! Let’s see our shipment back up to the Praetorium. We have much to prepare and precious little time to make it work!”

Y’sanna fell into step beside Nero. Her eyes wandered up to the Praetorium looming high overhead.

Beside her, her carbuncle chirruped in a rare display of uncertainty.

The cell was anything but glamorous.

The floor was cold and hard, as was the sorry excuse for a ‘bed’ Twilight had been provided. The single light over the thick steel door shone cold and blue, like the depths of a frozen lake. The hum of electricity reverberated in her ears as it passed through the wires, incessant and maddening. The occasional mutterings of voices speaking over the facility's intercom reached her from time to time, muffled into illegibility by the layers of walls and levels between them. A camera lens glared down at her from the back corner of the room, ever watching, never blinking.

Twilight did not know for certain how long she had been trapped in this cell. She had passed out again as she’d been carried off, her injuries taking their toll no matter how hard she fought to keep her eyes open. When she had come to, she had mercifully found the worst of her injuries were gone. The damage to her horn had been repaired, and her other injuries had been soothed to something manageable.

That would be where her good fortune would end, however. A metallic ring had been painfully affixed over her horn, barbed tips digging into the grooves and barring her from channelling her magic. She could imagine it fitting on the finger of a roegadyn and simply being repurposed to keep her magic in check. Her hooves were similarly bound with advanced mechanical bracers and no clearly visible release mechanism. They were ill-fitting, clearly intended for the wrists of Eorzea’s inhabitants. As such, her hooves were held close and tight together, leaving her all but hog-tied.

Hours passed by in the cramped space. At least, she assumed it was hours. She had no way to tell. And there was nothing to do to pass the time. She made no effort to break out. The camera in the corner left her with no viable options. So instead, she got as comfortable as she could lying on her side and allowed her thoughts to drift. She thought of Y’shtola, and how she’d been downed and engaged in battle with Y’sanna when Scarmiglione took her. She thought of Yda, who would no doubt take the word of Twilight’s capture exceptionally poorly. She thought of the other Scions, imprisoned somewhere she could not reach.

She thought of her friends back in Equestria. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see them right now. If she were back in Equestria, they would have launched some daring, foolhardy but inexplicably successful rescue mission by now. They’d sneak past the guards, distract them with something silly from Pinkie, Applejack and Rainbow would easily dispatch anyone who tried to stop them, and they’d haul her back out into the sun with hugs, laughs, and a promise of a party.

But they weren’t coming. Not this time.

After what felt like an age, however, someone did come. Twilight felt it before she heard it. Vibrations in the floor, short and rhythmic, and getting stronger. Then the sound reached her ears. Footsteps. She lifted her head from the floor, her eyes half-open with exhaustion as someone came to a stop outside her door. She heard a series of beeps, followed by a deafening mechanical buzzing as the pins holding the door shut slid away. It opened, and a trio of imperial soldiers entered.

The one in the centre, his face hidden behind the mask of an officer, crossed his arms. “Get up. Scaeva wants to see you.”

Twilight gulped as she suddenly got the feeling that the worst of her hardships were yet to come.

26 - The Madman's Experiment

For all of her bitter resentment toward the Garleans, Twilight had to admit they knew how to build impressive structures. Now that she was awake and cognizant enough to pay attention, the interior of the Praetorium was nothing short of awe-inspiring - though it also evoked a mirroring degree of fear. The interior was comprised of enormous corridors of blackened steel, lined with neon red and blue lights that snaked and slithered across the walls, floors, and ceilings. Entire squads of imperial soldiers marched this way and that in measured lockstep, eyes trained ahead. Magitek machines stomped or rolled by through some of the larger chambers as she passed, sending powerful vibrations through her hooves to settle in the core of her ribcage. The whole place was alive with clangs, the shriek of metal, the barking of orders, and the stomping of armoured feet.

It also smelled of an absurd amount of oil.

Despite the circumstances, Twilight’s curiosity, as ever, won out. “Wow… how did you make all of this?” she asked as her captors led her onto a lift at the end of the corridor.

One of the officers glared down at her but said nothing.

Twilight huffed and looked back up at him. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it a moment later. She shook her head with a grimace and looked down at the floor, her ears folding back.

Her stomach lurched as the lift suddenly slid into motion, bearing her higher into the peaks of the facility. She wobbled uneasily on her hooves, cursing the shackles that still bound her, and watched as the massive chambers vanished behind the walls of the elevator shaft. When they came to a stop a short time later, the corridor to greet her was far smaller. Not nearly so cramped as the hallways of the prison, but far more sterile and utilitarian. The stink of oil was also far less prevalent here.

As the officers led her off the lift, she found it in her to ask another question. She looked up at one of the other officers. “So… what does Nero do?” she asked. “I’ve heard the name before, but-”

Crack!

Twilight cried out in pain and fell to the floor as something struck her in the back of the head, hard. Stars exploded across her vision as her nose cracked against the cold floor. Her vision swam, her skull ached, and she became vaguely aware of an angered voice snapping at her from above.

“You were not given permission to speak, animal!”

Twilight picked her head up off the ground. She shot a glare back at the officer, taking note of his posture, stance, and the weapon at his side. She bit back the urge to snarl at him. Though a large part of her felt ashamed of it, an even louder voice determined that, if given the chance, she was going to kill him. She blinked and shut the intrusive voice down the moment the thought crossed her mind, though, and picked herself back up.

“Try not to damage it,” the head officer droned. He sounded bored. “The Tribunus wanted it alive for a reason.”

She, not it, thank you, Twilight thought to herself.

They led her down another series of corridors, and finally through a sliding pair of doors flanked by two guards. The troops saluted as they passed through and into the spacious chamber beyond.

What she saw both kindled her fascination further… and filled her with abject horror at the implications.

It was a vast circular room, filled with magitek machinery and whatchamacallits that she’d love to dissect in a more positive working environment. Around the gaggle of gadgets and gizmos were a whole host of men and women in white lab coats with glowing blue goggles draped over eyes that scanned over her, probably quite literally, the moment she stepped into the room. The dull white noise of their discussion stopped.

And it wasn’t just them. Standing amongst them all was a man with no small air of arrogance radiating from him. Whether it was his slicked blond hair or the perpetual smirk of superiority on his face, the red armoured garlean practically regarded her in the same way a child would salivate after one of Pinkie Pie’s freshly baked cakes. And she recognized him, one of the imperials she spied in the haze that was her arrival to this place…

“Nero,” Twilight inwardly surmised, before her eyes glanced off to the shadows.

Scarmiglione too. The ascian was just… standing there, draped in the shadowy corner of the room, his masked features emotionlessly staring on at the scene before him.

But even his presence wasn’t what caught Twilight’s attention the most.

No, that would be what the congregation was all gathered around. For in the centre of the room stood some manner of operating table. It was hooked up to all of the machinery she had previously spied. At its head stood a particular pedestal hooked up to wires, crystals, and other such devices Twilight wasn’t familiar with. It, at present, stood entirely empty as if awaiting one final piece to a puzzle.

And then there was the table’s occupant.

Y’sanna was strapped down by her waist, wrists, and ankles, entirely trapped upon its surface. And yet there wasn’t so much fear in her grimace as sheer determination, though perhaps one mixed with minor trepidation.

If anything, the crimson carbuncle lying next to the table seemed far more anxious about the whole affair, the creature curled into a ball and whining almost… pleadingly.

Whatever this was, every alarm bell in Twilight’s head was screaming at her.

This was bad. Very bad.

“Ah, and so our guest of honour arrives!” Nero announced with childish glee. “I do apologize for being unable to formally introduce myself on our last encounter, but you made it so difficult to set a date! Alas, time seems to have found us, and you have no small part to play in the moment of my crowning triumph.”

“What… what are you doing to Y’sanna…?” Twilight asked, eyes locked on the machinery strapped to the miqo’te in an attempt to understand their function.

“Oh? Do tell me you’re not concerned for the lucky kitten? Not after the terrible way she treated you and your friends?” Nero asked in mock empathy. “All in due time, Your Royal Highness. And worry not, I have no intention of strapping you to any such devices… today. No no, your secrets shall be unlocked later, but for now, I am far more interested in the gift you brought with you…”

If Nero’s smirk could widen, he managed it as he withdrew the Element of Magic, its once pristine surface ever so slightly marred from recent misuse…

“This. Your Element of Magic…” Nero took several steps towards the defenceless mare, kneeling down before her and holding the element out teasingly close. “The power within… I have learned much through rigorous trial and error, I assure you. But I feel as though it is but a scratch on the surface, so I would save us all a lot of my very precious time and simply have you tell us all you know, little pony. It truly would be in your best interest to do so.”

Twilight eyed Nero for a moment, then cast another glance at Scarmiglione. The Ascian was visibly paying more attention now, though his expression remained impossible to read. A lump formed in Twilight’s throat, one that stubbornly refused to be swallowed back down. She turned to Nero, staring longingly at her Element.

It was right there! Literally, if her hooves were not bound, she could reach out and touch it! Not that she would be able to get very far if that happened, but still!

Nero’s smile faltered into a frown of impatience. “Tick tock, pony. I haven’t got all day.”

Twilight, reminded of Nero’s prior question, shook herself and affixed him with an angry glare. “I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said sternly. “And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I know what my Element does, but even I couldn’t begin to tell you how it does it. Not like any information I could give you would be worth a damn anyway. The Elements of Harmony are very picky about who wields them.”

Nero quirked a brow. “Picky, you say? So this isn’t just some super powerful lump of aetherial crystal, then. There’s an intelligence in here,” he noted, looking at the Element with increased interest.

“More than yours, that’s for sure,” Twilight thought, though she bit the words back before she said them out loud. So instead she merely clenched her jaw and blew out a snort of air.

Nero hummed, turning the crystal over in his hand. “Well. That would explain why it is so stubbornly resistant to my probing. Oh, well.”

Twilight blinked as Nero rose back to his full height and turned to make his way back to the operating table. She leaned after him, confused. “Wait, is that it?” she asked.

Nero glanced at Scarmiglione. The Ascian nodded. Nero turned back to Twilight and shrugged. “I don’t see any lies here, and if what you say is true, then continuing to interrogate you would be a waste of my time. I have more important things to do than beat a dead horse.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed. “Beat… what?” she asked. “I’m not dead and I’m not a horse! I’m a pony!”

“You will be soon and I don’t care,” Nero dismissed her casually before returning his attention to the operating table.

Some scientist…

The crimson carbuncle snarled at Nero as he walked past the table, its tails lifting in a display of aggression. Nero cast it a glance but did not slow. He flashed Twilight one more look as he came to a stop beside one of the many machines in the room and opened a slot in its side. “That said, there is something I’d like you to witness,” he said knowingly.

The lump in Twilight’s throat returned. She shifted uneasily on her hooves, her restrained wings twitching uselessly against her sides. “A-and that would be…?” she questioned.

Nero slotted the Element into the compartment in the machine she had spotted earlier. All at once, the whole chamber came to life, humming with energy. Twilight’s eyes widened as Y’sanna went stiff on the table with a slight gasp.

“Wait? What are you doing?!” Twilight demanded, moving to take a step forward. A scrape of metal and the edge of a sword pressing against her throat made her stop. She glanced fearfully up at the officer next to her, keenly aware of just how sharp the blade of his sword was.

“It’s called progress, pony,” Nero told her, making his way toward one of the many terminals around the edge of the chamber. “Now shut up and witness history in the making.”

His armoured red hand clamped down onto a lever on the console, the man glancing back at Twilight with an almost maddened glint in his eye. Short of lightning cracking in the background, he was the very visage of the many insane scientists that could be found in literature around the library.

And as all insane scientists are wont to do, he pulled the lever.

And Y’sanna screamed.

All of the machinery Y’sanna had been hooked into came to life at once. Magitek sparked and some even seemed ready to burst into flames. The Element of Magic erupted with a flurry of prismatic energy that all seemed to be being dragged towards Y’sanna and forced into her body. The crimson carbuncle at the base of the operating table jumped in fright and began to frantically run back and forth around the table, yipping pathetically in terror at its master’s agonized wails.

And all that was only the first second of the process.

Twilight’s head erupted as if a drill had been taken to her horn. She could feel it in her very being. Her element was protesting, fighting, and it was losing. Being damaged in a fundamental way, violated. It was in pain. The Tree of Harmony, despite the vast distance of the void between them, was screaming as loud or even louder than Y’sanna herself.

Even the air around them seemed to rend apart, sparks spitting like small lightning bolts as the magics of two worlds, as incompatible as they are meant to be, were forced to conjoin and be one.

And it hurt.

Everything hurt.

And Y’sanna continued to scream.

As this construct of impossibility was being infused into the miqo’te’s body, she struggled in vain on an instinctual, primal level to rip herself from her bindings. Her eyes were wide open, dilated in terror. Cracks all the colours of the rainbow were starting to appear in her skin, streaking down her body and threatening to tear her apart, mind, body, and soul.

It was going to kill her!

“Please… stop!” Twilight begged even as the nexus of two opposing magical forces threatened to split her skill. “She’ll die!”

“A possible result. But not unexpected,” Nero retorted, eyes not breaking from his experiment. “There’s always another to take her place. Such is the nature of science.”

“This isn’t science! It’s wrong!” Twilight shouted back. “You’ll kill her AND destroy the element! You’ll lose them both!”

“I haven’t yet.”

“Please!”

“Oh yes, let me cease the discovery of the era because a pretty little pony told me to,” he remarked even as his subordinate continued to writhe and scream. “I don’t think so. I will not lose to Garland or anyone else. I will not.”

For several more agonizing moments the process continued, more prismatic cracks snaking their way from the very top of Y’sanna’s head to the tips of her toes. Even the other scientists in the room started to glance at one another nervously, a few taking steps back and turning to Nero with questioning gazes.

He returned none of them, his eyes greedily focused on the element and his test subject as the experiment rapidly approached its conclusion.

The element began to shudder, Twilight’s headache exploding so much that it sent the mare to the ground, her hoof clutching the base of her horn. She could barely watch the horrific scene through her wincing eyes. She could feel the strain, the exhaustion, the very nature of this world fighting what Nero was trying to do and it was driving the element to the brink. At any moment she was expecting it to crack, for the end to come…

And then it stopped.

The sparking energies in the air quickly dissipated as the machines around the room died down into silence. What had moments ago been a cacophony of noise and activity suddenly became deathly silent, the only remaining thing being the slow breathing of those within and the continuing, desperate whimpers of the crimson carbuncle pacing around the table.

The cracks along Y’sanna’s body began to fade away, the woman’s eyes shut even as her chest shakily rose and fell with shallow breaths. She appeared still, barely alive even, the element above her returning into relieved dormancy.

Nero’s maddened glee turned into a frown, the garlean staring down at his subject expectantly and with the smallest amount of concern. Certainly not for Y’sanna herself, but for the outcome before him…

Twilight let herself breathe, her eyes slowly reopening and staring at the scene before her.

Maybe, just maybe, it had failed… Nothing had happened, the laws of physics and magic in two worlds had prevailed and stopped this… perversion of nature. Y’sanna would return to normal and both Nero and Scarmiglione would be back to square one.

But then Y’sanna opened her eyes again.

And they were glowing with a familiar hue of lavender magic.

Oh, no…

Nero’s face lit up once more with that vile grin. “Aaah, results. Untie her, let her up, come on, we don’t have all day!”

There was a lull of inactive silence before the command registered with Nero’s subordinates. They quickly scrambled to do as he bid, and in short order, Y’sanna’s bonds were undone. She sat up on the edge of the bed, a hand to her chest and her breath slowing. Nero approached her, though Twilight did not miss that he was keeping himself well out of arm’s length.

The crimson carbuncle leapt up into Y’sanna’s lap, pressing its face into her hand with a quiet whimper. She looked down at her creation, and Twilight was surprised to see a smile that actually looked caring on the bloodthirsty miqo’te’s face.

Nero leaned forward slightly. “And? How do you feel?”

Y’sanna looked at him, her expression darkening. She looked down at her hand, her eyes narrowing. There was a hissing sound like water hitting a pan in the fire. Then a flare of magic erupted around her palm, shimmering and humming in the same manner that Twilight’s magic did.

That same aura suddenly appeared around the neck of a nearby imperial, constricting. Twilight blinked in shock and barely had time to open her mouth to protest the action before a sickening crack filled the chamber. The man dropped to the floor without even a chance to gasp, eyes wide.

Nero took a step back, his hand drifting toward a firearm holstered at his side. “Y’sanna…?”

Y’sanna took a deep breath, petted her carbuncle, and flashed Nero a fang-filled smirk. “Better now.”

“Did you have to kill one of my workers?” Nero questioned, crossing his arms.

“Who cares?” Y’sanna intoned, still petting her creation. “You have plenty more of them. I needed to see if your experiment worked… and I very much needed to take out my anger on something after the pain you put me through. The waste disposal boy seemed a suitable scapegoat.”

There was a pause. Nero slowly nodded, then shrugged. “A fair point,” he conceded before clapping his hands. “Right, someone get the corpse out of here. Give the cat a physical, make sure she’s fit in body as well as mind, and then send her down to the training rooms. We need to see what all she can do, now.”

Finally, Twilight decided she couldn’t stay silent anymore. She took a step forward. “This magic wasn’t meant to be used like this! You can’t- hurk!”

As it had the poor man from before, an aura of telekinesis wrapped around Twilight’s throat and squeezed. The floor fell away from her, her legs kicking as Y’sanna’s eyes glowed. The miqo’te bared her fangs. “Were you asked for your opinion, horse?!”

“Please try not to damage a valuable prisoner,” Nero said in a condescendingly soothing manner. He placed a hand on Y’sanna’s outstretched wrist. “As stubborn as she is, she may still be of use. More than a waste disposal boy, at any rate.”

Y’sanna snarled before dropping her hand, and Twilight crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. That grip had been tight. As she caught her breath, she looked up at the room. Her eyes landed on Scarmiglione, still lingering in the shadows, face unreadable. Twilight’s skull burned with rising indignation and fury. This violation stemmed from his intrusion into her world.

Nero clapped his hands again. “Right! I do believe that will be all. Y’sanna, examination then training room. Guards? See the pony to her cell,” he commanded before turning on his heel and marching without another word for the exit. Twilight felt herself being hoisted back to her hooves and guided for her own exit. As she walked, she kept her eyes squarely on the ascian.

“Damn you,” she seethed under her breath, her tail flicking. “Damn you all.”

Scarmiglione’s head twitched to look her way, and despite no one else managing it, she knew he had heard her. His lips contorted into a thoughtful frown. He was raising a hand to rub at his chin before the metal doors slammed shut, and Twilight lost all sight of him.

27 - Return to the Waking Sands

Y’shtola was no stranger to travelling on her own. Her solitary efforts in Limsa over the years had given her plenty of time to get used to being alone with her thoughts. Not that she disliked company, of course, but she had long been just as comfortable alone as with friends.

Following Twilight’s capture, however, the unoccupied space at her side was deeply distracting. More so than it had ever been previously.

She walked at a brisk pace for as long as she could each day, almost as if to outpace the silence that followed her. Much to her chagrin, however, it always kept pace, driving her on even more. She stopped for precious little - only for rest or food. Even with those breaks, she knew she was pushing herself. But she didn’t have a choice, did she? Twilight was captured, and rescuing her and the other captured Scions demanded haste. And so she soldiered on.

Finally, after several days of travel and with a cramp settled deep into the muscles of her legs, Y’shtola arrived in Vesper Bay. The small settlement had regained some semblance of an ordinary atmosphere since the massacre at the Waking Sands, a small mercy for which Y’shtola felt equal parts gratitude and offence. A tiny voice in the back of her mind shouted at them, demanding to know how these people could look even remotely at ease after what Empire had done here. They should have been furious, or at least apprehensive.

Then again, none of these civilians were Scions, and few of them even knew of the Scions. It was unfair to expect them to have the same feelings on the matter that Y’shtola did. One did not weep overlong, if at all, for the stranger who died across the street, after all.

As she descended the steps for the Waking Sands, something caught her attention. A well-travelled chocobo stood hitched to a lamppost outside the building, happily munching through the last few greens in a large wooden bucket. The tips of its tail feathers and crest were as black as coal as if the otherwise golden bird had stormed through a wall of fire.

Y’shtola’s eyes widened. She knew this bird.

“It cannot be,” she whispered before picking up the pace. The chocobo afforded her a sidelong glance and a friendly kweh before going back to its meal.

Shoving open the doors, Y’shtola quickly descended the stops and all but charged for the solar in the back. The residual signs of chaos had been largely cleaned out by now, thankfully, and the whole place looked as good as new, though the lights were still out. Yda must be keeping herself busy.

As she approached the door to the Solar, Y’shtola came to a stop. There were voices on the other side. More than one. She took a breath and pushed the doors open, steeling herself even as her stride quickened despite herself into a near-run.

The door crashed open and the solar was revealed, including the occupants within. Y’shtola drew up short, her breath hitching in her throat and her heart skipping a beat with shock and relief.

There he was, the very adventurer to whom that chocobo belonged. He looked a little more battered and weary than the last time Y’shtola had seen him, and his axe bore numerous new notches as evidence of hard-won battles, but he otherwise seemed hale and healthy.

Yda too was there… Along with faces Y’shtola had not seen in some time.

One was Alphinaud Leveilleur, the youngest of the Scions’ number. An elezen boy of sixteen summers, grandchild of their order’s founder as the Circle of Knowing, and one that fancied himself quite the little lordling in her experience with the lad.

The other face, though, she had never thought to see again.

He was a man entering the onset of his thirties, white of hair with a scruffy beard that matched well with his ceruleum-stained overalls and heavy gloves. Industrial goggles sat atop his brow, a central lens protecting and obscuring the third eye in his forehead.

Cid Garlond. Legendary garlean engineer, proprietor of Garlond Ironworks, and friend to both herself and the long-missing and forgotten Warriors of Light.

Everyone was jumping in alarm as the swinging door slammed against the wall behind it, and Y’shtola had the impression she had just interrupted an afternoon nap. The warrior in particular jumped as if ejected from a particularly vivid dream.

“Y’shtola!” Yda shouted out, shooting to her feet and rushing over in excitement and relief.

Y’shtola smiled at her, then looked to the others. “You… You are all safe. And… and Cid.”

Cid nodded her way. “Y’shtola. It has been a long time. I… ahem. I apologize for the absence. It seems fate had me play a bit part for a while.”

“That we five should meet each other thus defies simple explanation,” Y’shtola breathed in relieved disbelief, glancing over at the gathered faces as though they might be a dream. “It is as if the benevolent hand of Master Louisoix guides us still. He would not see us undone so easily. Not now, when the need is so great.”

Y’shtola closed her eyes. The faces of those who were still missing, Twilight’s front and centre, flashed in her mind’s eye as she felt the presence of the broken staff on the wall. She took in another breath, opening her eyes once more as her pupils dilated into slits as her gaze burned with desperate determination.

“I know where Minfillia and the others are being held.”

Alphinaud stepped forward, glancing up curiously at the miqo’te. “Where?” he asked, his young voice smooth as butter and thick with confidence.

“An imperial stronghold in the heart of Mor Dhona - Castrium Centri.”

“I knew you could do it!” Yda announced with a joyful bounce. “The both of you! That you would find our spy, figure out just where to rescue our friends, and hit the Empire right where it hurts!”

Y’shtola flinched and found she couldn’t quite meet the hyur’s masked gaze.

It took a second for Yda to notice. She tilted her head .“...Right?”

“Hold on. ‘Both’?” Alphinaud questioned, crossing his arms with a frown. “I was not aware you had set off with company, Y’shtola.”

Silence deafened the room, expectant eyes resting on the miqo’te as she, in what was a very rare circumstance indeed, didn’t quite know what to say…

That silence was broken by a gentle clang, the warrior’s axe being settled on the ground as he rose to his feet. His blue eyes drifted to the empty space by Y’shtola’s side, before gently drifting back to the woman filled with knowing sadness.

“What happened to Twilight?”

Y’shtola took in a deep breath. She looked down at her side as if hoping the alicorn would magically reappear beside her and spare her an explanation. No such luck, sadly. She closed her eyes. “...She was taken as well.”

Yda’s hands flew up to her mouth. “Oh, no! How?! What happened?!”

Y’shtola grit her teeth. “We were attacked shortly after finding our spy in Thal’s Respite. Y’sanna assaulted us once again. And she did not come alone this time. She was joined by an Ascian — the very one that absconded with Twilight’s artefact; Scarmiglione.”

The warrior’s expression darkened considerably, his eyes narrowing with dismay. Yda looked about ready to fall to her knees at the news.

Y’shtola continued. “In the course of the battle, Twilight’s horn was smothered by our adversary, causing her next spell to catastrophically misfire. She was left crippled, and in her weakened state, she was unable to defend herself when the Ascian fell upon her. I tried to intervene, but Y’sanna barred my path. Ere I had the chance, Scarmiglione vanished into the dark… and he took Twilight with him.”

As she wrapped up the story, she noticed that Alphinaud and Cid looked more confused than anything. It was the former who spoke, shooting the adventurer a sceptical glare before focusing on Y’shtola.

“Twilight? So you mean to tell me these stories of a ‘tiny purple pony’ I’ve been forced to listen to these past few weeks were not, in fact, told in jest?” Alphinaud asked, sounding equal parts annoyed and confused.

Yda slapped her fist into her hand. “I told you!”

The adventurer nodded.

Alphinaud pursed his lips together, then shrugged helplessly. “I stand corrected, then.”

Off to the side, Cid tilted his head and raised a hand like a student in class. “Right, I’ve been out of the loop for some time. Would someone mind filling me in?” he asked, visibly clueless.

Despite the direness of the situation, Y’shtola couldn’t help but smile. And then laugh, however softly, at the moment of banter. Once her amusement settled, she spent the next several minutes getting everyone around her up to speed on the situation. Twilight’s origins, the distressing situation involving her Element, and all the other important details. Yda chimed in every so often, ‘helpfully’ expressing how cute and adorable she thought Twilight was, while the warrior just offered his customary stoic nods.

When all was said and done, Alphinaud held a hand to his chin, his eyes turned down in thought. “Allow me to see if I have the right of it. The Ascians have what is, essentially, a crystal of light from another star in their possession, and have done so for nearly as long as I and my sister have been in Eorzea. And now the owner of that crystal is similarly in Ascian custody.”

Y’shtola nodded. “Imperial custody, but given the intimacy of Van Baelsar’s alliance with the paragons, it may as well be one and the same,” she said, her hands curling into fists at her side. “And I was powerless to do aught about it. Twilight was in my care, and I failed to keep her out of the enemy’s clutches!”

Cid lifted his hands placatingly. “Easy now, lass. From all I’ve heard, these Ascians blindsided everyone. It won’t do you any good to get caught up in self-deprecation, now will it?”

Alphinaud lent his voice in agreement. “Quite right. Such behaviour is rather unbecoming of you, Y’shtola.”

Y’shtola looked down at Alphinaud, narrowing her eyes into a questioning glare. He flinched, his jaw parting just slightly as he realized he may have just made a severe tactical mistake. Y’shtola slowly crossed her arms over her chest. “Would you care to repeat that sentiment, young man?”

Alphinaud looked off to one side. “...W-we are wasting time with this chicanery,” he stumbled into the excuse to change subjects with less than grace, but Y’shtola would allow it. “Our comrades are imprisoned. We must make plans to see them free. And if this Twilight Sparkle is indeed analogous to a Warrior of Light, then her retrieval must be assured.”

Yda slapped a hand to her visor. “Gods, Alphi. Retrieval?”

“Did I say aught amiss?”

“You make her sound like an asset rather than a person!”

“I stated no such thing! I merely meant to say- Agh, we have not the time for this, Yda. Van Baelsar is not going to sit around and bicker while he has the crystal in his grasp.”

Y’shtola levelled him a look for a few moments. There was a small smile on her face, one filled with enough motherly disappointment that the young boy suddenly found himself taking a step backwards. The moment was brief, or a millennium depending on who was asked, but the miqo’te shook her head before turning to face Yda.

“On that much, I can agree. And Castrum Centri is not a target to be trifled with.” Y’shtola announced, crossing her arms and closing her eyes in thought. “Infiltrating it will not be an easy task. The base is on constant high alert, patrols watch the perimeter and their numbers are far too many for anything short of a combined Alliance assault.”

“I do have some thoughts about that,” Cid stated, rubbing his beard idly. “Stray thoughts, mind you. More of a proof of concept. But it would be far easier with my assistants back at my side.”

Yda tilted her head a the man. “Biggs and Wedge, you mean? But they got snatched up by the baddies too.”

“So I heard. We know for certain they are with the rest of our friends?”

“We do not, no. My informant mentioned nothing of your engineers,” Y’shtola informed him regretfully.

“Right… bit of a bother, that. I’d appreciate it if we could keep an ear out.”

Y’shtola nodded. “That is the idea. Now, as Alphinaud said — If we are to rescue our friends, we’re going to need a plan, and a plan requires intelligence. And I believe I know a man who may be able to assist us in this: Lord Portelaine of House Durendaire. He is stationed at the Observatorium in Corethas. I propose we go to him and beseech his aid.”

Then she frowned and crossed her arms as a problem with that plan made itself known to her. “That said, the Ishgardians are notoriously disinclined to work with outsiders on anything…”

The warrior perked up, and Alphinaud, as if sensing what he was thinking, lent his voice to the discussion again. “Considering the mountain of favours and tasks we were forced to do for the Ishgardians of late, I daresay we may have an inroad with them.”

Yda pumped her fists. “Great! Who knew being Eorzea’s errand boy would pay off so handsomely, eh?!”

The adventurer frowned.

Cid smirked. “Come now, no need to look like that. It does seem to be a surprisingly accurate description.”

Y’shtola chuckled weakly. “Then it seems we have a plan of action - or at least the start of one,” she said before drawing herself upright. “We’ve little time to waste. Let us make our preparations and set off as soon as we are able.”

“Damn right!” Yda agreed, thrusting a fist up into the air. Then she paused and looked down at her decidedly short shorts. “Should I pack some pants, you think? …nah, no time. Alphinaud was fine, so I should be, too!”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit irresponsible?” Alphinaud asked. “And ‘fine’ might be a strong word for it-”

“Aw, psh! Worst comes to worst, a certain adventurer can earn enough gil to buy me a pair en route!” Yda interrupted before giving the warrior a big grin. “Isn’t that right?”

He could not suppress a grimace. “If I have to tend one more cabbage patch…”

“Oh, you love helping every downtrodden villager who comes your way. Admit it!”

“And yet they always seem to end with dragon eyes and demonic possessions.”

Y’shtola quirked an eyebrow. “There appears to be a story there.”

“One for another time,” Alphinaud interrupted as the man opened his mouth to tell the tale. “The hour is late and we have preparations to make.”

Y’shtola smirked. “The young lord has spoken,” she teased in turn. “Our friends likely await execution, and I dare not guess what the likes of the Garleans would do to Twilight, let alone the Ascians. I will await you all outside, come find me when you are prepared.”

After a round of affirmations, Y’shtola turned to depart the solar and return to the streets of Vesper Bay. As she passed through the dark, silent halls of the Waking Sands, she found a presence making haste to catch up to her.

Y’shtola turned as she crested the top of the steps and brushed past the door out to the open air of Thanalan, watching Yda as the hyur rushed up behind her. The woman came to a steady stop, glancing around nervously before Y’shtola cleared her throat.

“Speak, Yda. What is on your mind?”

Yda considered for a moment, rubbing her hands together. “It’s just… if you want to go after Twilight, let me come with you!”

The miqo’te frowned at the hyur. “You have guessed rightly that I intend to focus on retrieving our equine friend once we make entry, but we must split our efforts thoroughly. I would have thought Papalymo would be first on your mind.”

“He is! Believe me, I’m… terrified about what could happen, but… he can look after himself! Papalymo is strong. Strong enough for both of us. But Twilight is just so… lost here. So far from home. She does not belong in a Garlean cell, and I want to make sure we get her out of there. She’s too innocent to be left with them!”

Y’shtola sighed, recalling Twilight’s horror at the imperial officer she slew at the edge of The Black Shroud. “I fear our present conflict has done much to spoil such innocence. But very well, if you are determined then I shall not stop you.”

“Great! Then we just need to figure out how to bust their door down! I vote the primal slaying axe!”

“Yda, did you listen to- Never mind. I do have a thought in that regard.”

“I knew you would! What is it?”

“There is a train. One that makes regular stops at the Castrum for supply runs. It is heavily guarded, but nowhere to the levels of the base itself. Our number is far too noticeable to all make use of it as a method of entry, but with just the two of us…”

“Oh, a stealth mission, then?”

“First we must ensure the rest of our fellowship can secure their own entry, but yes. Should they proceed from one direction, we can make use of the train to sneak in our own way.”

“Divide, conquer, and knock the lights out of any tinhead that gets in our way!” Yda stated in approval. “I approve!”

Y’shtola smiled warmly. She did not say so out loud, but she had dearly missed Yda’s gung-ho attitude. Things had increasingly grim with every event and every step. And while Yda’s ‘charms’ hadn’t made the situation any less daunting, it at least managed to refuel that small spark of resolve in Y’shtola’s belly that had been flickering after Twilight’s abduction.

“Your approval is noted. Now come. We’ve work to do, and only so much time to do it,” she finally said before beckoning for Yda to her out of the Waking Sands.

There was still so much to do. Preparation. Planning. Each precious second passing by was another their friends spent in imperial custody. Another that Twilight was enduring who knows what horrors at the hands of the Ascians and their unending, relentless scheming.

“Just hang on,” she thought as she stepped out into the sunlight. “You’ll not long be their prisoners. Any of you.”

Author's Note

We return after a bit of an absence. First Christmas, then I caught pneumonia over January and February. What a time that was...

28 - The Sundering

Twilight thought the terror may have eaten away at her by now. If not the terror, then the anxiety of not knowing what comes next. The nerves that arose from knowing somewhere, through the magitek abomination they’d forced her to participate in, Y’sanna was abusing her magic to do Celestia knows what to the innocents of this world.

And that had been eating her up. The pain Y’sanna had been forced to endure for Nero’s sadistic pleasure, the sheer brutality of seeing her own magic and that of the Element be twisted into a tool of murder, and knowing the miqo’te was still out there at this very moment. A ticking time bomb if they were lucky. Seeing how it had been achieved, just how stable could she be?

The thought that she was a walking battery of unstable mana just waiting for someone to light a match was extremely disturbing.

And it had been taking up her mind as she sat contemplating her situation, trapped as she was in that garlean cell.

But now something new had taken up residence in her mind residence. A new realization most profound…

She was really bored.

She was pretty sure there was a line in Equestria’s code of law that allowed prisoners to have access to a book during their sentences at the very least. And by Celestia’s light how she’d love a book right now.

But it did not appear that the garleans shared this sentiment.

No, rather they had left her to rot for the immediate few days following the experiment. Waiting in the silence of her own thoughts, unsure if the Empire was just going to get it over with and sentence her to death or decide to hook her up to the next monstrosity their resident mad scientist had cooked up.

She knew something about being a mad scientist. He was doing it all wrong.

Twilight groaned to herself. It was stray thoughts like that that made her painfully aware that she was starting to mentally slip during her isolation. Part of her was still holding onto hope that Y’sthola would find her way there, rain her feeling wrath upon the invaders and spirit the alicorn to safety.

‘Like the real damsel I’ve become,’ the Princess bitterly noted to herself.

But then, on the other hoof, perhaps it was best that her new friends didn’t find their way here at all. She doubted the garleans would be as ‘kind’ to them as they had been to her. And she’d been enough of a burden as it was.

Dammit, if only she could use her Equestrian magic! Failing that, had she been given the time needed to master the new system she’d discovered in this world! Heck, BOTH! She was the Bearer of Magic itself and she’d barely been able to cast the most feeble of barriers or gusts of winds. Even flight without needing to study the aetherial currents of every new region she entered.

She felt half a pony. Whatever differences there were between the magics of their worlds, if she could just adjust to it…

And then there was a shadow over her.

Twilight slowly looked up, knocked out of her self-pity by the masked figure coldly regarding her from the doorway.

It was him.

The alicorn immediately jumped to her hooves, instinctually trying to conjure magic in her horn before the ring upon it made the attempt a futile one. Nevertheless, her wings flared out and her feathers bristled as she looked upon the cloaked figure with hatred.

True hatred was a new feeling.

She didn’t like it.

“Such contempt in your eyes,” Scarmiglione noted. “Do you not require companionship? I understand your kind are communal creatures, such conditions must be most uncomfortable for one such as yourself.”

“Don’t play nice,” Twilight shot back with a frown. “What do you want?”

“We have fought so bitterly, I have come to realize we have never spoken at length. Those complete of soul are so rarely seen in this age, I did not want to miss the opportunity.”

“What?”

“It is a pity necessity has made us foes. Compared to the pale reflections around us, even myself, we ascians would consider you worthy of our respect as a beacon of life. Why, if the esteemed Emet Selch were here, he would frown most severely at your treatment.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. He wanted something, but the way he spoke did ignite some curiosity in her mind as to his choices of words.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I only have taken action where I must for the sake of this star,” the ascian responded. “As a saviour of your own, I am certain you can sympathize.”

“Saviour? You’ve killed people! You tried to kill Y’shtola!”

Scarmiglione crossed his arms, smirking as he chuckled to himself. “Answer me this; what do you know of the ascian cause?”

Twilight paused for a moment. Now that she thought on it, she only knew what the Scions had told her. Which, by Minfillia’s own admission, was not much. She shook her head and glared at him. “You’ve laboured in the shadows for centuries for the sake of sowing chaos and triggering Calamities. You’re responsible for releasing Bahamut on Eorzea!”

Scarmiglione nodded along. “Yes, that is the raw surface of it. But tell me this, and speak true; do you know why?”

Twilight scoffed. “Given the body count, do your justifications matter?”

Scarmiglione’s lips twitched up into a small smile, partially hidden by his black mask. Curiously, however, it was not as threatening as Twilight was used to. It almost seemed… pitying, in a way. “So you are perfectly content to wage war with me without understanding what drives me to fight?”

In the back of her mind, Twilight desperately wanted to scream ‘yes.’ After everything she’d been made to endure, no matter how much she disliked it, she did hate this man. But she bit her tongue and forced herself to curb her emotions for the moment. “Content? No,” she said, straightening her posture. “But I will if that’s what I have to do.”

“You don’t have to,” Scarmiglione said, raising one hand slightly. “For I am here to dispel your ignorance, if you’ll but lend me your ear for a few short minutes.”

“If your motives would have changed anything, why didn’t you open with them back in Equestria?!” Twilight demanded.

“I admit, it may have saved me considerable time. However, I had not anticipated the Tree calling to you so ardently… or you being so reckless as to follow me to this world the way you did. My hope had been to perform my good work and then see your Element returned when it was done. Your arrival made matters significantly more complicated. I’ve had to improvise.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She was sceptical, to put it mildly, but if he was offering to explain himself to her… ‘Well. A little intel never hurt, did it?’

“Fine. Then talk, Ascian. Why are you doing this?”

Scarmiglione lost his smile. For a moment, he was utterly silent, his face lowering. His jaw worked from side to side, as if he were hunting for the words to express something. He almost looked vulnerable. Eventually, he sighed. “First, I should clarify that despite my high position among the black masks, my knowledge of this is largely secondhand. I was not present as I am for the tragedies of the ancient past. But that does not render them any less profound.”

He raised his hand higher, and a swirl of magic erupted from his palm. Twilight took a step back, instincts forcing her to brace for an attack. But instead of pain, her senses were instead assaulted by a new environment. The Garlean cell bled away like ink in the ocean, and a whole new sight manifested before her eyes. An illusion, but a vivid one. Twilight’s eyes widened as it all resolved into clarity.

What she saw almost defied description. A sprawling city unlike anything she had seen here in Eorzea spread out before her all the way to the distant horizon. Every structure was a monolith of stone and crystal, taller even than the highest skyscrapers of Manehattan and shimmering with a thousand evenly spaced sparks of resplendent gold. Coiling spires rose in between the buildings, helical spirals joined by evenly spaced supporting structures. The clouds in the heavenly blue sky seemed to glow with a subtle radiance of their own, and the stars were visible through the sapphire hue of the midday sky. In the heart of it all stood a spire taller and grander than all the others.

Twilight took a step forward, too enthralled by the scene to realize she was standing on empty air. “What… what is this?” she asked.

Scarmiglione folded his hands behind his back and looked out at the city with a faraway look on his face. “What you are seeing now is a vision of the world that used to be. This city is the capital of that old world. It was known as Amaurot… and it was paradise incarnate. The men and women who lived in this world, largely, knew nothing but peace and harmony. What dangers existed were easily dealt with. It was a utopia, free from the suffering known by Eorzea.”

Twilight frowned at Scarmiglione. “And what happened to it?”

Scarmiglione looked down. “...The Final Days.”

Twilight blinked. “The what?”

Scarmiglione waved his hand. And the image shifted. In the blink of an eye, the sky darkened to bloody red. A tempestuous wind fell from on high, tearing through the beautiful streets with reckless abandon. Black-robed men and women, giants compared to those Twilight had met thus far, were torn from their feet. Her heart shrivelled, and she gasped involuntarily as she saw many of them smeared into a paste upon the hard stone or splattered against the walls of the spires.

The sky darkened further still. Blasts of lightning fell from the clouds, striking the tops of the spires, the blasts of thunder a deafening cacophony that left Twilight’s ears ringing. And that was far from the worst of it. Balls of fire the size of a Ponyville house fell next, hundreds of them, from horizon to horizon. Twilight watched, shellshocked, as the flames punched through the stone of the spires with absolute ease. Clouds of smoke and raging infernos rose in moments, and the roar of the devastation drowned out the screams of those who endured it.

Scarmiglione began to speak. “In these ancient times, the people of the world governed it. It was the duty of our ancestors to maintain the natural order of the world. With their magics, they could create new life, and release it unto the world to maintain order. It was their greatest accomplishment. Creation. But The Final Days saw that order undone. The very laws of creation came undone, and it was as if the world itself turned against us. The seas boiled. The rivers ran red with blood. The land was tainted and poisoned. Inexplicable, terrifying, and so it seemed, utterly unstoppable.”

Their view panned, lowering into the city streets. Twilight saw the black-robed people she had seen from above sprinting in a blind panic through the streets. There was no order to their movements, no reason. It was just raw, blind terror. Scarmiglione continued. “But that was far from the worst of it. For as reality unravelled, so too did the laws that governed that which could and could not exist. And the creation magicks of the Ancients turned against them. Their fears mounted in the face of the apocalypse… and from their fear was born the beasts.”

Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat as one of the ancients, a woman, tripped over a broken stone. She crumpled to the ground, cradling her hooded head and wailing in terror. As she screamed, magic began to bleed out of her flesh, seeping through the woven fabric and coalescing only a few feet in front of her. As it gathered, it rotted, turning black and putrescent.

And then there were teeth.

Twilight shrieked along with the victim as an unholy amalgamation of fangs and eyes sprang from the mass of swirling black. The shrieking ancient only had a moment to raise her hand in defence of herself before she was unmade. Limbs and shreds of flesh and fabric scattered, and Twilight’s stomach turned. Nearby, other ancients looked on in horror, backpedalling. Then, they too began to glow with magic, and their own beasts came for them.

“As the beasts ended them, their fears made even worse beasts to accelerate the process,” Scarmiglione went on, and even he sounded unnerved. “A self-replicating cycle. A loop of despair. Never-ending, and only ever worsening. The final doom that spelt the end of the world as it was known.”

A powerful gust tore through the streets of the city, and all within was blown away, reduced to a cloud of ash that vanished into the distance. Twilight stood, eyes wide and heart pounding. She watched distantly as the sky began to clear, and a small number of ancients emerged from the rubble. In the far-off distance, she saw a monolithic figure of woven muscle and black feathery wings rising. Its many hands spread wide, and aether poured from its fingertips, bathing the battered world.

“A solution was found… in the form of Zodiark,” Scarmiglione continued, gesturing at the imposing figure. “The one true God of mankind. Though less than a quarter of our people remained to tell the tale, by His grace were the Final Days brought to an end, and the world saved. He restored the balance. He restored the laws of the world. He saved us all.”

Another figure rose, then. Behind Zodiark. A woman, rivalling the enormous man in size. But unlike Zodiark, whose very essence seemed to radiate the deepest shadow, this new figure was a beacon of blinding light that burned Twilight’s eyes.

“But there were those who feared Zodiark. Who feared the price of the restoration he might bring. And those fearful were the ones who brought forth Hydaelyn,” Scarmilgione continued. Twilight’s jaw fell open as Hydaelyn manifested a sword of brilliant blue crystal, and with a feral snarl hurled herself headlong at Zodiark. The earth trembled as they clashed, and the world around them shook and rumbled.

“And they fought,” Scarmiglione continued. “Until, in the end… Hydaelyn struck down our saviour. Zodiark was unmade, scattered into fourteen pieces… and with him, the world, and all life upon it, were sundered.”

Twilight watched Hydaelyn and Zodiark duel for a few moments longer until She rose above the god of darkness and fell upon him, driving both of her feet into his face. There was a deafening roar, a blinding flash, and all the world shattered like a pane of glass cast upon the pavement. Twilight staggered back, her senses scrambling to keep up with it all.

Slowly, the interior of her cell faded back into existence. Scarmiglione lowered his hand and slumped against the wall with a sigh as if the act of revealing that illusion had cost him dearly. “Such was the tragedy that was endured by the Ascians. Hydaelyn shattered our world into fourteen distinct fragments, reflections. ‘Shards.’ Each one beginning as a mirror of the Source, and diverging over time… but all of them are lesser. An equal division… in all ways lesser. The new people who dwelt upon these fractured pieces of the world were… weak. Stupid. Flailing fools who beat one another with clubs and stones for a few scraps of meat. Each only a fourteenth of what they were before. Gone was our paradise. In its place was hell.”

Twilight stared at the man, her eyes boring into his masked features even as he struggled to catch his breath. His claims… all too many questions started to flood into her brain as his claims came to an end. Battles between gods? The end of the world? She knew she could not trust him, but there was genuine loss draped all across his body language.

“...Hydaelyn is supposed to be a protector. That’s what the Scions said.”

Scarmiglione scoffed. “Fools. She is light. Stagnation. Complacency. She was born to see the world slip into the abyss of mediocrity and never return. She merely cares for her imposed status quo. A tyrant.”

“But you still haven’t explained the calamities!”

“Necessity!” Scarmiglione insisted. “The shards must be rejoined, and that requires the release of a multitude of elemental magicks to bridge the gap between the true world and the pockets containing the rest. Every cycle, Hydalyn sends pawns to stop us, so we must fight. And we win. But always at a cost. But we will save more in the long run, and our entire world, restored along with its people.”

“Then why not ask the Scions for help?”

“Hah! The ‘Mother Crystal’ already has her hooks in them. They will never accept the truth of this world. They are fragile. Broken. Weapons. But you… you are whole. You can see,” the ascian proclaimed, standing tall once more as his strength returned to him. “You and your element will pave the way for another rejoining. One long overdue and in desperate need of completion.

“What do you mean?”

“The Thirteenth shard was consumed by shadow. The remnants of our people there have been twisted into hungry, slathering monsters begging for a death that can never come. I shall use your crystal as the bridge between the chaos of that world and the harmony of your own. Don’t you see? Your light, your bonds of friendship, they shall save them all! And then they can be returned to the Source with the rest. Whole again. Men and women again.”

Consumed by shadow, restored to their true selves through friendship…?

Images of Nightmare Moon crossed into Twilight’s mind. The nature of corrupted alicorns, twisted by their own power and loathing into subversions of themselves. What the ascian said made some sense. If he had known about that, about Twilight and her friends’ exploits from across dimensional divides, how could he not come to believe, to hope, that the Elements of Harmony could do the same for them?

“...This is all so… confusing. I’ve SEEN what you have done! You allied with… THEM!” Twilight lifted a hoof to the door where garlean guards stood beyond. “But I… if that’s true…”

“It is. We are all that is left. We remember. And we will rebuild this world.”

“And the people? On the shards?” Twilight asked. “They’re alive, right? What happens when a world rejoins?”

Scarmiglione gave a pregnant pause. Crossing his arms, he regarded the alicorn with an appraising stare.

“...They return to this star, where they belong. They come home.”

At the cost of the only home they ever knew.

But if they were alive and well…? And the world was healed in the process?

But could she really trust him? After he’d attacked her? What of her friends in this world? They had been so kind to her. Especially Y’shtola. Eda, Papalymo…

There was so much sincerity in his tone. But so much just didn’t make sense…

“I can sense you still have doubts,” Scarmiglione went on, lowering his voice somewhat. “I do not blame you. But think of it like this. You come from a whole world, unsundered. Compared to Eorzea, Equestria is nearly a utopia. If something were to happen to your world alike to what happened to this one? Pegasi without flight, earth ponies without the land, unicorns with not even the most basic understanding of the arcane arts? What if your friends and family became basic barbarians compared to what they used to be…? Wouldn’t you go to nearly any lengths to get them back?”

Twilight wanted to say no, of course, she wouldn’t. But after everything she’d been through, and with how much she loved her friends, she wasn’t sure she could say it. She wasn’t sure it would be the truth. And so, in shamed silence, she bit her tongue. She looked down, her mind spinning.

“Now, I am afraid our meeting has reached its end. My other duties await, and I can delay them no longer,” Scarmiglione continued, pushing away from the wall. He lowered himself to one knee in front of Twilight to look into her eyes. “I do not wish to be your enemy. You come from an unsundered world. If you truly wish to see all of this pointless bloodshed drawn to a close, then I beg of you as I should have done from the start — lend me your knowledge. Help me use your Element responsibly. These imperial fools are proving woefully insufficient, and this war need not drag on once the darkness of the Void is purged. The sooner the rejoining is complete, the sooner the suffering will end.”

Twilight looked away, her ears folding back. She opened her mouth over and over, hunting for something to say, hunting for the words that might make all of this madness make sense or express her conflicting emotions. “I… I don’t,” she stammered. “You…”

“Take your time,” Scarmiglione said before standing tall. “I must go. But I will return. Think about what I have said. Think of what you’d do to save the ones you love from a fate worse than death…”

Twilight turned back to him, but he was already gone. All that was left was a shrinking point of blackest shadow that disappeared into the walls of her metal cell, leaving nothing but her distressed reflection staring back at her.

Scarmigione himself reappeared in a hail of shadow beyond the fortress. Standing under the cursed moon as he stared up and into the crater where his lord lay.

His face remained neutral beneath the mask. His posture was placid. His mouth not even twitching. Even as his clawed hand curled into a fist.

Understand…?

How could she…?

Even now, with the barest bones exposed, even a being of whole self could not comprehend the true gravity of this world.

Still, if she could come to understand even a mote of it, maybe she could help. Maybe the thirteenth could be saved. And so could Lord Zodiark.

Even if it was through half-truths.

2 - From the Rift

“Okay, I know you’re worried, but did you have to drag us all out here at…” Rainbow glanced up at the sky with her groggy, half-open eyes. Her muzzle scrunched up in aggravation before she lowered her eyes to glare disapprovingly at the equally tired and utterly unrepentant Twilight at the head of the group. “Six? In the Ahm?”

Twilight gave off a quiet sigh of exasperation. “Not ‘ahm', Rainbow. AM.”

“Same diff.”

Twilight snorted and rolled her eyes. This hadn’t been the first time one of the group had elected to complain at her about this little excursion into the Everfree Forest. She probably could have chosen to wait just a little longer before waking them all up, but at the time, she really hadn’t felt like taking chances.

“Ah, quit yer bickerin’,” Applejack chimed in with a roll of her eyes. “Ah don’t even see what the problem is. Ain’t none of y’all ever done an honest morning of work in yer lives?’

“Six, AJ. Six.” Rainbow insisted.

“You can do loooots of things with a six!” Pinkie Pie chirped in what most would assume was supposed to be support for Applejack, but who knew with her. “Six cupcakes equals six very happy fillies in six super duper parties or—GASP—a SUPER MEGA-”

“No.”

“Awwww, but it’s never too early for a-”

“Yes. Yes, it is. This conversation is over.”

“Now now,” Rarity gently scolded the grumpy pegasus. “As much as I detest interrupted beauty sleep, I am sure Twilight would never interrupt it without a very good reason.”

Twilight could almost hear a word of warning in her tone.

“Actually, I do have one,” She replied with a sharp nod. She glanced back at the others. “And I already explained it to all of you.”

“It was six,” Rainbow drawled out. “Some of us who get up at a reasonable hour could use a refresher.”

“Too early… lecture… no…” Spike mumbled as he half-slept on Twilight’s back.

Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes. She came to a stop and spun to face her friends. “Okay, look. It’s just…” she paused, her muzzle scrunching up. Now that she was really thinking about it, it was actually hard to put into words, especially now that she had taken some time to calm down and thoroughly consider it.

It had begun just a few hours ago. A strange feeling had come over her in her sleep. A deep-seated feeling of dread and anxiety, the same sort she had felt only a few days prior when Tirek was on his way towards her and her friends at the base of the Tree of Harmony. She had been terrified for all of their lives at that point, and a similar—if subdued—feeling had suddenly roused her from her slumber.

Spike had insisted that she must have just had a bad dream. It’d been a pretty harrowing day for everypony involved, and the logical part of her brain agreed… But something deeper and more instinctual rallied against that idea like an army of angry dragons.

“I just have a bad feeling. I want to make sure the Tree of Harmony is safe,” she finally said, turning back down the path toward the castle. “It’s probably nothing, but I don’t think we can be too careful with it right now.”

“Come on, Twilight,” Rainbow groaned out. “What are the odds that another big evil jerk would try to harm it within a few days of the last?”

The others glanced at her irritably.

“What is our track record, dear?” Rarity asked in a deadpan.

“Yeah, now that I’ve said that, it sounds about right…”

“Oh dear…” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Shucks, Ah’m sure everything is just fine,” Applejack interjected. “Hyping yourselves into a frenzy ain’t gonna help nopony.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Hey, so long as I can pummel another Tirek thing, I’m game.”

“I thought you were tired?” Twilight deadpanned.

“Eh, only when there aren’t monsters needing a good rainboom to the face!”

Twilight smirked at Rainbow’s shift in demeanour before focusing back on the trail ahead of them. The forest was dark at this hour, but not so dark that they couldn’t see where they were going. The first shafts of morning sunlight were just starting to slice through the gloom of the Everfree Forest, creating shifting shafts of amber light to guide their way.

They walked on in relative silence for a time, occasionally looking this way and that at a distant call from some unknown animal or other. Over time, the forest gradually began to thin out, and the now-familiar road to the Castle of the Two Sisters became clear upon the forest floor.

“Almost there.”

Soon, the group came out through the foliage, and the castle came into view on the other end of the chasm. Twilight paused to take a look at it, briefly recalling her first time here. Judging by the nostalgic, if still groggy, looks on the faces of her friends, they were reminiscing just the same.

“Come on, the Tree shouldn’t be too far now.”

Twilight started to move towards a path lining the inner edge of the chasm splitting the Castle of the Two Sisters off from the rest of the forest. The others all started to follow, Spike fully lulling himself to sleep as snores began to emanate from the alicorn’s back. Yet, even as they started to gently manoeuvre their way down the slope, one of their number appeared to hesitate and look around with a not-so-typical shyness, even for her…

“Um…” Fluttershy said quietly. Many might have missed her utterance, but the attuned ears of her friends all perked up as they glanced back in her direction.

“You good, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Yes, you do look a bit perturbed,” Rarity agreed.

“Whatever that meant, yes,” Rainbow agreed, earning a glare from both the fashionista and the literate Twilight in the process.

Fluttershy, for her part, just glanced around solemnly at the forest, her ears swivelling around seemingly in search of something. Something that she found wanting if her increasingly diminutive stature was any indication.

“It’s probably nothing…”

“No no, if you think there’s something wrong, I want to know,” Twilight disagreed. “You know these forests even better than I do, given how many animal friends you have from here. So if there’s anypony who would spot something, it’s you.”

She seemed to perk up a bit at the praise, before predictably falling again when she realized she was the sole centre of attention.

“Oh! Um, okay… Well… do you girls hear anything…?”

Twilight tilted her head, not quite sure as to her meaning. She strained her own ears. Maybe she had heard a twig snap? The growl of a forest beast? Something else?

Alas, whatever it was, she couldn’t make out a thing. The forest was utterly silent.

“We don’t hear anything, darling,” Rarity spoke for the group. “It’s all quite peaceful this morning, for which we must surely give thanks to Celestia given how dastardly some of the ‘locals’ can be.”

“But… I mean… that’s why…” Fluttershy’s voice trailed off again, her eyes wandering back to look deep into the treeline.

“Why what?” Twilight asked.

Fluttershy hesitated for a moment before she found her voice. “It’s so strange… There should be something. But it’s silent. No birds, no cute little creatures scuttling about looking for food… The forest is… like it’s empty…”

Twilight frowned. She hadn’t even considered that, but now that she was paying attention, yes, that was strange. The forest was home to numerous creatures big and small, so there should be at least something like the tweeting of a bird this far in. It was something that she just took for granted, never giving a second thought.

But Fluttershy, she breathed nature, was always aware of it. And now that she pointed it out to them…

“Ya know, if a timberwolf strays out too close to the farm, the animals outside get awful quiet right quick,” Applejack noted.

“My friends too…” Fluttershy agreed.

“Nice catch, Fluttershy,” Twilight calmly complemented as she internally went through all possible scenarios.

“Maybe they’re just sleeping?” Rainbow nonchalantly suggested.

“Or…”

Or something was very wrong indeed.

“Come on, girls. We need to get to the tree. Now.”

Sensing the increased urgency in her voice, none of them argued as they rushed down the side of the cliff and to the chasm’s depths. It was a short run, one they had made before, the pathway wide enough for them to descend in a single file line. Nothing stopped them, and there appeared to be no obvious reason for alarm or panic.

Still, when Twilight stood before the cave opening leading to the Tree of Harmony, something felt… wrong.

“Do you feel that?” Rainbow asked. “Kinda like… I don’t know…”

Twilight didn’t answer, her brisk trot turning into a full gallop as she raced into the cave entrance, her coat standing on end and her heart pounding. She couldn’t even really explain why she reacted the way she did. But something was wrong. Very wrong. And she knew that every moment she spent waiting, something terrible was happening inside.

“Twilight!?” one of the girls shouted behind her, but she took little heed. Instead, she just kept on moving as fast as she could.

One corner. The next. The cave started to open up, its central chamber coming up fast. Crystals jutted out of the walls, usually sparking with brilliant light amidst the roots of the fabled Tree…

But now they were dark. Cold. Lifeless.

“Oh no.”

She skidded to a halt, the mare vaguely aware of the sound of scampering hooves behind her. Glad as she was that her friends continued to follow, it did nothing to stifle the shock, surprise, and abject horror at what she found before the Tree of Harmony.

A figure, unlike any she had seen in quite some time, floated in mid-air before the tree without the assistance of wings. It was upright, clearly bipedal, and dressed in dark, flowing robes that were decorated in elaborate patterns of faded silver and poisonous purple. A hood was pulled up over its head, obscuring its features. It had a hand extended toward the tree, serrated metal claws jutting out from the gloves over its fingers.

Within those monstrous claws was Twilight’s Element of Harmony, pulled like a still-beating heart straight out of the Tree of Harmony. The gaping hole left in its trunk pulsed with rapidly dwindling light, and the low thumps and deep humming of arcane energy reminded Twilight yet again of a pounding heart—or the lack thereof.

“What the?!” Applejack exclaimed once she and the others caught up. “What the heck is that?!”

What, or who? How? Why? Many questions and fewer answers funnelled through Twilight’s mind faster than she could process. Rather than further questions, what suddenly struck her was how… diminished, the tree seemed. A few tendrils of light emerged from its trunk, weakly snaking up towards the figure.

It merely grunted in what could be mistaken for amusement, a ball of shadow coalescing in its hand before a wave of shadow struck out across the tree and wiped away the tendrils. The crystal seemed to darken further, and Twilight had a distinct feeling there had been a far more lengthy battle before their arrival.

Rainbow jumped into the air and thumped her hooves together. “Who cares what it is?! It’s got Twilight’s Element!” she declared.

Twilight blinked, already knowing what Rainbow was going to do. She reached out a hoof, calling out Rainbow’s name, but it was too late. The action-ready pegasus had already flown into the fray, hooves outstretched.

“GIVE THAT BACK!” Rainbow shouted.

The figure turned to Rainbow as if it were uninterested, allowing Twilight a glimpse under its hood. A smooth-skinned face was hidden behind an ominous black mask that left a masculine chin and mouth visible to the world. Her heart quickened as she recognized those facial features as belonging to a human, albeit slightly different looking from the ones she had met in Sunset’s world.

The figure’s free hand lifted, dark magic swirling around it, making it clear he was readying a spell. He said nothing, merely unleashing it at Rainbow.

She never stood a chance.

Twilight watched, stunned, as Rainbow was blasted out of the air by a pulse of deep crimson energy. The pegasus fell to the ground and slid across several feet before coming to a rest, her body smoking. A low groan of pain told the others that she was still alive, but she was clearly no longer in any condition to fight.

“RAINBOW!” Fluttershy shrieked, rushing to her friend’s side while Applejack and Pinkie took up defensive stances in front of them. Rarity, meanwhile, assumed a position by Twilight’s side, her horn sparking to life.

“You ruffian!” Rarity spat, though there was no missing the fearful tremble in her voice. “Just who in Equestria do you think you are?!”

“Huh, whu-..?” Spike blearily remarked as he only now stirred atop Twilight’s back, glancing around and finally comprehending his situation upon spotting the figure. “What!? Uh, what’s that!?”

The figure stared at them for a few short seconds. Another snort of amusement escaped him. He did not say a word, however, instead turning to look at the element clutched in his hands.

Twilight felt a twinge. A compulsion. Before she knew what she was doing, she was kicking off the ground and pumping her wings for all she was worth, Spike being thrown from her back in the process. She had no idea what was happening, but she had to stop it, now! The figure turned to blast her aside much as he had with Rainbow, but Twilight saw it coming. Her horn sparked into life, projecting a half-dome barrier in front of herself.

The blast of darkness that splashed against her shield carried more force than she had been expecting, and a spiderweb crack pattern exploded across its surface, though it thankfully did not shatter. Twilight cast it aside and closed the remaining distance, her horn charging up a counterspell aimed for the man’s hand.

She could see a small amount of surprise on his face. Evidently, he had been expecting her to go down just as easily as Rainbow. His hand pulsed with more energy, and a ball of red light flew out from it. Twilight grunted, forced to redirect her spell from his hand to intercept the oncoming sphere.

She had to squint against the resulting onslaught of bright light from the explosion. An intense gust of wind buffeted her, slowing her progress. “No!” she grunted through clenched teeth, reaching out for the figure. She had to stop him!

With a growl, the creature spread his arms and conjured a wall of shadow between the two, Twilight giving her wings a fierce flap out in front of her in order to stop herself from slamming into it. Through the mass, she saw an outstretched hand preparing another spell aimed for her.

“That’s enough, ya varmint!”

A rope shot out across the cave, expertly wrapping around the man’s arm and yanking it aside. Both his incoming spell and the wall of darkness ceased. Even as they did, he wrapped his clawed glove around the rope and pulled it aside with an unnatural strength rivalling any earth pony.

“Woah!” Applejack shouted as she was thrown aside with ease.

Fortunately, she flew straight into the waiting hooves of Fluttershy, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie. All immediately sought to come to the dazed mare’s aid, Pinkie Pie, in particular, turning around and glaring at the robed figure.

“Meanie!”

Seeing that her friend was safe and sound—Spike busy dragging Rainbow Dash to safety while Applejack slowly got back to her hooves—Twilight focused her attention back on the thief, her horn lighting with renewed effort.

A third bolt of darkness came towards her. Twilight flapped her wings and dodged to the side before continuing to barrel toward her opponent. A larger wave of energy flashed into being, rushing towards her. She grit her teeth, horn flaring with energy as she called forth all the magic within herself.

And then she hit the wave head-on, her light banishing the dark as the figure gasped in shock. Lavender energies coursed around her form as she reached him, the man wrapping himself likewise within his own magicks as the two forces battled for dominance. As lavender and near-black purples sparked and spat, Twilight’s barrier started to make progress into his as he grimaced with effort. She closed her eyes as she pushed all the harder, giving everything she had to reach the Element calling for her.

She felt her hooves coiling into the cloth of his robe, and grabbed hold. She heard him grunt in surprise and confusion before the sound was replaced by a low thrum of magic, and she could feel dark energies wrapping across her form. Her eyes snapped open.

The cave was fading. She could just barely make out the panicked exclamations of her friends. Then, with a single, bassy boom, it was as if the world had disappeared entirely, and both Twilight and the enigmatic figure were swathed in darkness.

What happened next was beyond confusing. Twilight felt pulled along by the figure at impossible speeds, yet she could not tell whether they were ascending or falling. Wind blasted against her on all sides, not seeming to originate from anywhere in particular. She chanced a moment to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, though she dared not release her grasp on the robed figure.

They were in an endless abyss, filled with countless tiny floating stars. As they shot through it, however, she realized that the stars were, in fact, tiny pieces of crystal. Scenes both familiar and not played in each one as they passed, and an endless barrage of voices began to echo in her ears.

Still, they struggled against one another, Twilight’s magical aura shifting from the robed figure to the Element of Magic itself. It glowed with the contact, and yet the darkness refused her attempts to pry it from his grasp. She could feel it calling to her, reaching out to her and… something…

“Hear…”

A voice…? She could hear someone, female, their voice calm and gentle, not unlike that of a caring mother. She could not make out the words, nor even discern if they were meant for her. She could see, however, her element glowing brighter as if in response to it. Was it communicating?

She gritted her teeth and focused on the masked man. He was glaring back at her in irritation. “Where are we?!” she demanded to know, tightening her grip. “What did you do to the Tree?! What do you want with my Element of Harmony!?”

“You would not understand,” he said, his voice low and collected. “Just know that what I do, I do for the salvation of my star. And I shall suffer none to interfere!”

Twilight blinked. “What?”

The salvation of his star? What in the world did that even mean? The sun hadn’t been showing any signs of unusual activity of late… But then again, this man was a human. Could it be that he was from Sunset’s world? Had something gone wrong there?

Before she had a chance to ponder it any further, the disorienting sensation of flying through that strange rift came to an end. A burst of sound filled her ears, and suddenly the directionless wind and voices were replaced with a constant sandy gale that lashed at her fur. Twilight cried out as the man wrenched her free from his robe with a sharp tug, holding her aloft.

“For your own good, little pony, stay out of my way,” the man snarled before, with no fanfare, releasing his hold on her.

Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat as she fell through the air. She quickly beat her wings, trying to right herself and fly back up to him, only for her to continue falling. To her shock and confusion, her wings couldn’t seem to catch the air enough to do anything more than slow her fall somewhat. She began to panic, kicking her legs out around her as she fell. Her eyes remained locked on to the robed figure floating above her. He stared back down at her, watching for a short time before, in a swirl of shadowy magic, he vanished entirely.

And then Twilight hit the ground.

“Ever since I was a filly, I had dreamed of one day setting hoof in another world.”

Twilight Sparkle slowly opened her eyes with a tired groan. Her entire body was stiff, sore, and covered in a thick layer of sweat. The air around her was hot and dry, and she could feel grains of sand clinging to her fur. She went to stand, realizing as she rose that she felt dangerously light-headed. She reached a hoof out to catch herself, only to fall over into the sand again with a cry of pain.

“I let my mind wander and race, imagining worlds colourful, amazing, and strange. I drew them up and speculated on how they could work, much to the amusement of my family.”

She took a moment to rest, allowing her mind to race. Where was she? She could deduce based on the sand in her fur and the dry heat in the air that she was in a desert somewhere. Her mind raced, trying to comb through her knowledge of geography to narrow down where she could have landed.

Slowly, she was able to force herself back to her hooves and look around.

“And indeed, I had managed to see one. A world of technology instead of magic, humans instead of ponies. It had been an experience I would never forget… But it did nothing to prepare me for the journey I was about to set out on.”

Her earlier suspicions of this being a desert were confirmed. Quite a rocky one, at that. Though she had landed in a patch of sand, there were large mesas of reddish-brown stone rising from the ground all around her, growing increasingly dense as she looked further towards what she presumed to be north. The sun hung high overhead, beating down on her oppressively with its heat.

“Surrounded on all sides by sand and stone, the hot sun burning my skin, no idea where I was, and no friends to watch my back, not even Spike… I was alone, this time.”

Twilight took a deep breath and looked up to where she remembered the masked man floating. Sadly, he had not decided to come back and check to see if the fall had actually killed her, as the sky remained pitifully empty. There weren’t even any clouds. Just the fading light of the sun as it began to descend for the horizon. It would be dark soon. She must have been out for a while.

“Okay… Okay… Think, Twilight, think,” she muttered, rubbing a hoof against her temple. Had she not been so sore and confused, she might have begun to panic, but right now she knew she had to focus.

“The man in the black mask. My Element of Harmony. Wherever they were, I knew I had to find them. I had to stop him, whatever he was doing, and I had to get home… But I had no idea how. All I could do was take the first step.”

“Okay, okay… I need to find water, shelter, food,” Twilight quickly began to make a mental checklist in her head. “And then… Civilization. I need to find civilization, find that man, and… Oh, Celestia, what is going on…?”

A dry wind answered her call, whistling between the mesas. She felt the dryness in her throat as if in response, and knew she couldn’t stay out in the open any longer. She turned for the mesas to the north. They would provide shelter from the sun, and then she could look for water.

With nothing else for it, she set off at a brisk pace, leaving prints in the sand of the desert as the sun’s light began to fade.

“And so I did. I took my first steps in that new world, as the hour of twilight fell over Thanalan.”

Author's Note

Hey look! A new thing!

Skijarama and I are doing another collaboration, as we have before for those familiar with Little Changes likewise published on my page. I know my general motivation to update has been rather... bleh of late, but I'm hoping between this co-effort and the upcoming gen 5 reveal I can get my mojo back.

So until then, enjoy some Twilight/cat mum yes that means Y'shtola adventures!

18 - Scholar's Spite

Twilight let out a cry of alarm as the feral monster scrambled toward her. She took a step back, her horn sparking to life as she frantically hunted for a spell to protect herself. In a flash of shimmering blue, she pulled on her link to her carbuncle, and the radiant aegis formed around her a split second before her adversary reached her.

Its claws dug into the barrier with the ear-splitting sound of scraping glass, and Twilight’s relief at stopping the assault shattered at the same time as her only defence. She just had time to open her mouth before the beast crashed into her. The air was driven from Twilight’s lungs as she fell back with a cry. And then came the claws and the teeth, and Twilight was screaming.

“Try not to kill it, my pet,” Y’sanna’s mocking voice called from nearby, barely audible over Twilight’s howls and the crimson carbuncle’s ravenous snarls. “We want it alive.”

The feral carbuncle growled its understanding. But if it showed any restraint in its barbaric assault, Twilight couldn’t see it. Claw and tooth tore through her skin, and the way the monster thrashed and wriggled against her reminded her of cats locked in combat. It was too fast to keep track of, and it was almost impossible to react beyond throwing up her hooves to protect her throat.

“GET OFF ME!” she finally managed to bellow, her horn sparking to life and unleashing an unfocused pulse of aether. The red carbuncle hissed as it was kicked up and off of her, landing in a wide stance several feet away. Twilight quickly rolled back to her hooves, gasping for breath. Fresh blood ran in streams down her legs and face from the various wounds the beast had inflicted.

The crimson carbuncle hunched threateningly before her, its face smeared with gore and its eyes ablaze with hunger. She could hear its ragged breathing from here. A sickening sound that sent every prey-animal instinct she had into overdrive. Those weren’t pants of exertion. Those were the excited breaths of murderous delight.

Twilight risked taking her eyes off the opposing carbuncle for a moment to focus on her own. With a quick tug on their link, she issued a simple command. “Defend me.”

With a quivering chirp, her carbuncle leapt in front of her, stance wide and defensive. The ruby fur on its forehead began to glow brightly, and it issued a warning growl to its opponent.

Hoping it would buy her some time, Twilight quickly backed away, flipping through her spellbook in search of a healing spell. She knew they existed, she had cast one back during the fight with Ifrit. But she hadn’t studied it in detail, yet!

“Come on, come on!” she thought as she frantically scoured the pages. She could hear the crimson carbuncle snarling, preparing to lunge again. “Where is it?! Where is it-”

Twilight’s thoughts were suddenly halted as her book was sent flying out of her hooves by a burst of grey aether. She lifted a hoof to shield her face, staggering back several paces. She went to try and catch the book in her magic, but she didn’t get the chance. Another burst of aether slammed into the side of her barrel, picking her up off her hooves and sending her hurtling into a nearby boulder. She heard something crack, and unimaginable agony blossomed across her ribs, drowning out her thoughts.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Y’sanna taunted from only a few paces away. Twilight whimpered, slowly looking up to see the imperial woman standing over her, one palm outstretched toward her. Glowing runes and geometric patterns swirled in the air around her open palm, and Twilight recognized it as a ruin spell several orders of magnitude more powerful than her own. Y’sanna’s smug smirk deepened, and her eyes lidded with sadistic lust. “Bad girl. No fighting back.”

Twilight’s mind screamed with panic. She tried to stand, only for Y’sanna’s boot to smash into her face and send her slamming back into the boulder a second time. She felt fresh blood running down her lip from her nose, and more trickled down into her sinuses. She coughed and hacked at the ground. Groggily, she looked up past Y’sanna, desperately trying to find her carbuncle.

The blue being had given a valiant effort, but without the element of surprise it had enjoyed last time, it stood no chance against its more advanced adversary. Twilight’s heart clenched in despair as the crimson beast pounced on her own, pinning it to the ground. Its maw peeled wide, showing off its sharpened fangs.

Twilight reached out. “NO!” she shouted, her horn flaring with a sudden stream of magic. She focused on the red animal, trying to pry it away. But once again, Y’sanna’s boot fell upon her head, this time driving it into the damp ground below. Muddy water flooded Twilight’s mouth and nostrils, sending her into a spluttering, coughing fit. Her eyes stung, and she could barely see.

But she could see what happened next well enough. She watched helplessly as Y’sanna’s carbuncle sank its fangs into the throat of her own. Its victim let out a high-pitched squeal that lasted for a split second, before suddenly stopping. In the next instant, Twilight’s only assistance vanished, dispersing in a swirl of sparkles and blue light.

Y’sanna threw her head back to let out a bone-chilling cackle. She looked back down at Twilight, the sun behind her head in the sky, framing it in shadow. But even in that darkness, the horrible joy in Y’sanna’s eyes was clearly visible, and her sharp teeth sparkled like the reaper’s scythe.

“Is that truly your best?” she mocked, grinding her boot into Twilight’s head. “And here I thought you were supposed to be on par with a Primal!”

The tone in Y’sanna’s voice twigged something in Twilight’s mind, and a flood of indignation washed over her. She squirmed, her horn once again flaring with light. This time, however, her focus was not derived from her despair or dread, or the desperation to save or protect. No, this time, it was drawn from pure, boiling rage. The offence of having her friend hurt and her abilities as a mage so viciously slandered. A sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, and with a guttural scream, Twilight forced herself back to her hooves. Y’sanna gasped in surprise, thrown off balance by the sudden movement.

Twilight turned to her with a furious fire blazing in her eyes, her teeth clenched. A dome of purple magic formed around her and rapidly expanded out, catching Y’sanna and forcing her into the air. The imperial soldier was swift to recover, and the geometric patterns snapped back around her hand even as she was hurled back.

Twilight met the ruin spell with one of her own, the two spheres of grey magic slamming into one another between the miqo’te traitor and alicorn princess. A gust of wind was kicked up by the blast, sending Twilight’s mane and tail billowing behind her, and tall ripples of water sloshing past her hooves. She growled, taking a step forward to press her advantage, no matter how slim it may have been.

The crimson carbuncle had other ideas.

Twilight’s breath left her as quickly as she had gained it as the beast slammed into her injured side, its teeth digging deep into her exposed shoulder. She screamed, staggering to one side. She tried to fight, tried to resist, but she reached her limit. All the slash marks, her broken rib, her screaming headache, and the re-opened bullet wound in her chest finally proved too much.

Twilight toppled to one side, splashing into the shallow water. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, agonized gasps. Her eyes, lidded and unfocused, drifted lazily about, trying to find some means of defending herself. Internally, she knew she had to keep fighting, but she just couldn’t summon the strength.

Nearby, Y’sanna picked herself up out of the water, having crashed to the ground following the collision of the two spells. She huffed in irritation, looking down at her sopping-wet clothes. “Bah. You got me all wet. Stupid horse,” she snarled.

“P-pony,” Twilight corrected breathlessly.

The carbuncle biting her clenched its jaw, silencing any further remarks.

Y’sanna stalked toward her, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, because that’s so much more dignified?” she questioned. She came to a stop beside Twilight and knelt in front of her, flashing her another grin. “No matter. Give up yet?”

Twilight opened her mouth to say ‘no’ but hesitated. If she kept fighting like this, she would only get herself killed. And if she died here, she couldn’t get her element back from Scarmiglione. She’d be leaving the Scions. She’d be leaving Y’shtola. And worst of all, she wouldn’t be able to go home to her friends…

Twilight closed her mouth, and with a lump in her throat, went to offer a defeated nod.

A powerful gust of wind cut her off, washing over Y’sanna from behind. The miqo’te cried out in surprise as she was suddenly lifted off her feet and sent flying through the air to crash into the water somewhere behind Twilight.

Surprised, Twilight looked to where the gust had come from. In a flicker, her despair vanished, and in its place was a swelling tide of hope.

Y’shtola’s wand glowed brightly with green aether, and the stones around her lifted into the air, coalescing into sharpened spears. Her eyes narrowed and locked onto the crimson carbuncle. In turn, the monster released its hold on Twilight’s shoulder and instead affixed its fangs to Twilight’s throat.

Twilight inhaled sharply as she felt the pinpricks digging into her flesh. Enough to hurt and promise a swift end if she struggled, but not enough to break the skin. Panic consumed her, but she dare not move. Instead, she looked pleadingly to Y’shtola, hoping that the fear in her eyes would get the message across.

“Help me.”

Y’shtola’seyes met her own. Her pupils steeled and dilated into thin slits, resolved, the picture of calm as opposed to Twilight’s deep-seated terror. And yet the coldness within those orbs belied the intense concern, and rage, radiating from the woman.

“Hmph,” came her unimpressed huff as she glanced at the crimson carbuncle before her gaze moved past it and onto the creature’s master. “Savage, but unstable. Unrefined. I am surprised it has yet to fizzle out. But then again, you were always known throughout the Studium for your ill-advised shortcuts to power, Y’sanna.”

Twilight, in spite of the pain, couldn’t help but blink in surprise at the revelation that Y’shtola knew this woman. But her shock was nothing compared to the target of the scathing remarks. Y’sanna’s teeth clenched so hard she might’ve cracked a tooth, her free hand balling into a fist. Her eyes burned with impotent rage in stark contrast to the near boredom she’d displayed for the alicorn.

“I am surprised you remember me. The almighty Y’shtola, prized pupil and pet of Master Matoya!” She spat, every word dripping with brazen contempt.

“I confess that until recently, I almost didn’t,” Y’shtola admitted, not even blinking as she stared down the imperial. “However, there can be no mistaking your brutal arrogance, and your actions here are reminder enough. Ever a lone student believing herself superior to her peers, bending the rules as she saw fit in knowing spite of the precedents that demand them. A student who believes that might ultimately makes right in the application of one’s aether.”

“Says the spoiled brat!” the other miqo’te spat back. “Treated like a little princess prodigy, strutting around Sharlayan place like you were a Twelve-given gift to Hydaelyn!”

Y’shtola gave a small chuckle of bemusement. “Princess? If you had actually paid mind to the other students as opposed to shunning their very approach, you would be well aware that Matoya treats nobody with such respect. Myself least of all. She made me work for all I earned. And so I did. Making demands would achieve nothing. Is that not why you abandoned your studies?”

“I saw the truth!” Y’sanna bellowed. She lifted her hand, unleashing a dark miasma of energy that bulged and festered as it streaked towards Y’shtola. The conjurer huffed and gave a flick of her wand that sent one of her stone spears into the attack before it could strike true.

Y’sanna snarled, but she nevertheless continued. “I knew Garlemald was the future of this star! Their might is such that none can stand in their way! All who have tried have failed! Doma! Bozja! Ala Mhigo! Soon enough, Eorzea will be next! I knew this truth and I brought it to my teachers, in both word and thesis! I forced the issue to the forum itself, and for all my warnings, I was ignored and cast aside!”

Y’shtola’s expression darkened. “While I have my own issues with Sharlyan’s foreign policies, remaining apart from the Empire is not one of them.”

“Then you are as blind as the rest of them!” Y’sanna spat. “Look around you, Y’shtola! People fight and they die! They die and die meaningless deaths, and the Empire wins anyway. It’s hopeless. Pointless. Joining hands with Emporer Solus is the only path to peace, the only way the peoples of Eorzea may witness the morrow. And if I must drag them to that truth kicking and screaming, then so be it!”

“How noble of you to seek the salvation of a land far from home,” Y’shtola noted, yet biting sarcasm dripped from every word. “I am certain the power they gave you when you abandoned Sharlayan was but a tertiary benefit that had no influence on your decision.”

Y’sanna’s eye twitched, and aether surged up around her. “Seven hells would you shut up!?” she practically roared, thrusting her hand forward.

The crimson carbuncle suddenly unlatched itself from Twilight’s throat and lunged, gnashing its fangs for Y’shtola’s instead.

She just smiled. “Ah, predictable.”

A confluence even greater than before spilt out of Y’shtola. Thrusting her wand forwards as if it were a knife, the carbuncle became entangled within a swirling current of wind and sent hurtling down hard between two nearby boulders. It hissed, thrashed, and snarled in her grasp, but its fearsomeness was betrayed by the pitiful yelp it let out on impact, not unlike Twilight’s own from a minute prior.

Y’sanna flipped a page in her book, beginning to cast something. She didn’t get the chance, however, as the aether holding her carbuncle surged forth to strike the imperial commander in the chest. With the breath knocked from her lungs, she found herself folding over backwards, head first into the water.

Not skipping a beat, the aether around Y’shtola’s wand shifted from pale green to earthen yellow as her eyes flashed back to the carbuncle. The feral creature already rolling back onto its paws and recovering from its predicament.

Y’shtola twitched her hand down. The carbuncle looked up in brief alarm before Y’shtola’s remaining stone spears punctured clean through it with monstrous force. A sickening crunch was heard, followed by a flash of aether as the spectral being was banished from existence.

Twilight just stared at the woman. The sheer brutality of what she’d just witnessed contrasted starkly with the calm way Y’shtola had carried it out. Clinical, precise, and dare she say refined. If she were the archon’s enemy she’d certainly have every reason to be terrified, and yet all the alicorn felt was overwhelming relief as the miqo’te briskly approached.

“Y’shtola, I-”

“We will speak later,” she spoke in a way that promised a grounding. “For now, assist me.”

Her wand lit up again, this time two motes of light sparking into existence, orbiting the sorceress for a moment before drifting into Twilight. The alicorn felt a renewed vigour in her muscles, her wounds steadily beginning to seal up before her eyes. It wasn’t as much as she would like, her body rejecting the aether as it did, but still, it was enough. She managed to get back to her hooves, her body stinging with pain, and her open bullet wound still bleeding.

Satisfied, Y’shtola refocused on their enemy. “I shall keep her occupied. Be cautious of your movement, lest your wounds open further.”

“Right. Got it. Just… try to keep her away,” Twilight grimaced, ashamed of the audible quiver in her voice.

“That was never even in question,” Y’shtola responded, holding out her wand and glaring at her opponent. “Rise, Y’sanna! I know you’re not finished, yet.”

The woman in question had just concluded fishing herself out of the water once more, yet it had done little to quell the blaze in her eyes and the fury radiating out of her. Her glare burned with such ferocity it would make Halone herself blanch. She stood up tall, idly shaking droplets of water from the pages of her spellbook.

“Heh… ha… You must think yourself so clever, harpy. You always were a manipulative bitch,” she snarled before her eyes levelled on Twilight. “I’d watch your back, pony.”

“You needn’t bother manipulating one so self-defeating,” Y’shtola bit back. “So run along, little kitten. If you are as valuable as you claim, then perhaps your imperial masters will forgive your failure. However, knowing their doctrine as I do, I wouldn’t hold on too tightly to that hope.”

Y’sanna’s pupils narrowed into razor-thin slits. “And what would you know?!” she roared, and her spell tome, in spite of the moisture seeping into the pages, flared once again with arcane light. The infuriated imperial took three quick steps, the waters around her rising like a rallying army. She thrust her hand forward, and the rising waters surged forward like a tidal wave.

Y’shtola grunted, throwing her arms out wide to conjure a protective blue dome around herself and Twilight. The waters smashed into the barrier with incredible force, sending spiderweb cracks forming all along the front. Twilight gasped in alarm, quickly moving behind Y’shtola to offer what support she could while her eyes darted frantically about for her spellbook.

All the while, Y’sanna’s tirade continued. “You’ve not met Lord Gaius!” she went on, another tidal wave smashing against Y’shtola’s barrier. “I have! And he’s a man of honour! He has standards! He has vision!”

Another tidal wave. Y’shtola growled through grit teeth and aimed one hand forward, preparing to fire off a counter. Before she had a chance to do so, however, a trio of purple orbs flew through the maelstrom to slam into her barrier. Her eyes widened in shock, and Twilight heard her let out a gasp before the barrier shattered around them.

The deluge of water swept both pony and miqo’te off their feet. Twilight cried out as she was sent sliding through muck and mud, stones buried inches under the water scraping at her freshly closed wounds, forcing some of them back open. Her bruised side screamed in protest when Y’shtola’s significantly larger body mass slammed into her, pinning her to the ground.

The purple orbs came after them, undeterred, and folded into Y’shtola’s skin. Twilight felt the conjurer spasming on top of her, and when she looked, she could see swirls of black and purple aether swirling around her friend, sucking the energy out of her. The blood drained from her face. She had yet to cast this spell, but she recognized it all the same. Addle. A short-lived curse that stifled the aether of the target, severely weakening their spells.

Y’sanna chased after them as the waves parted, more aether swirling around her book, and a combat knife drawn in her free hand. With a snarl, Y’shtola threw up a hand, blue light swirling around it as she went to catch it as she had with many such blades before.

But her magic, smothered as it was, was not strong enough. Twilight’s eyes flew wide as she saw the imperial knife slice into Y’shtola’s palm, sending a wave of crimson to splash into the water below.

Y’sanna’s boot found Y’shtola’s face before she had a chance to cry out. “Under Lord Gaius’ rule,” she went on, her voice bordering on fanatical. “People are treated according to their worth, not their blood! He sees the value in all men, even those not born of pure garlean blood! And I stand as proof of this!”

The boot came again, preventing Y’shtola from conjuring an effective counterattack. Twilight flinched when she saw the blood dribbling from her friend’s nose. She had to do something! It was only going to be so long before Y’sanna put that knife to use for something other than Y’shtola’s hand. She once more turned her eyes to frantically scour for her spellbook.

Her eyes latched onto it not far away, leaning up against a rock and partially buried in water. The cover was charred and blackened from the spell that had hit it, but it was still in one piece.

With a groan, Twilight squirmed out from under Y’shtola and sprinted for the book. To her combined relief and panic, the imperial mage was too focused on beating down Y’shtola to focus on her. Y’sanna’s screaming voice went on. “And thanks to that clarity, there is no one better suited to taking these bickering ‘city states’ and unifying them with a common purpose! And one way or another, I’ll be there to steer his hand true!”

Twilight almost ripped her spellbook in half with how hard she pulled it from the water. She turned the book open, searching frantically for a spell. With a grimace, she realized the ink in most of the pages was blurring. Useless. She would need to get it replaced.

Y’sanna grabbed onto the collar of Y’shtola’s shirt and hauled her up, the edge of her knife held to Y’shtola’s throat. “And luckily for me, you don’t get to see it!” she shrieked like a banshee.

Another rush of adrenaline. There was no time to think, plan, or prepare. All Twilight could do was act. She began channelling her magic, the aether swirling around her as focused on the traitor who would dare threaten her friend. The essence of a ruin spell gathered on the tip of her horn, but it was different. Coloured by Twilight’s anger, frustration, and desperation. Her desire to stop Y’sanna, to inflict harm in the name of protecting her friend.

Time suddenly seemed to halt. Twilight flinched as, for a brief moment, the memory of another imperial officer flickered through her mind, his face mangled under his faceplate. She heard his screaming voice echoing in her mind, and the terror that she had beheld in his eye as the light and life left it.

Could she do that again…?

The image of the dead officer faded away, replaced with the knife about to slit Y’shtola’s throat. And in that instant, Twilight decided that saving her friend was more important.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” She bellowed, the magic around her flaring and turning a brilliant shade of ruby red. She felt a familiar presence at her side, and warmth flowed down her horn and into her chest, swelling like a rising inferno.

Y’sanna turned to Twilight, her eyes flying wide as she realized her mistake in letting the alicorn run. She dropped Y’shtola and rose to charge Twilight, only for Twilight’s newly manifested ruby carbuncle to put itself between them. With a high-pitched roar, it threw its head back, and a wave of scorching flames blasted out from it and Twilight’s joined aether. Water boiled in its wake, kicking up scorching clouds of raging steam.

Y’sanna was barely able to conjure an aegis of her own to catch it, and it shattered only a moment later. The scorching waves of heat blasted into the screaming woman, sending her flying back and into a nearby waterlogged tree. Which promptly combusted.

Y’sanna plummeted back into the water, gasping for breath. Smoke and steam rose from her body in angrily licking plumes, the flames only failing to consume her thanks to the water soaking her clothes. She reached a hand up to her chest as she struggled to breathe before looking back up at Twilight.

Twilight lowered her book, her eyes narrowing. “Give up, yet?” she echoed Y’sanna’s earlier question with cold contempt.

To her surprise, Y’sanna smiled. “H-Ha! There it is,” she remarked with a coy smirk. “That’s the power Nero wants to see…”

Before any other words could be exchanged, Y’sanna rose back to her full height, pulled something from her belt, and threw it against the ground. All at once, Twilight’s world became blinding white and deafening noise. She cried out, flailing back to the ground as her hooves reached to protect her eyes. The squeal of the unknown device continued for several seconds before slowly fading away. When it did, and Twilight could see again, Y’sanna was gone.

“Coward!” Y’shtola called after the departed imperial, hauling herself back to her feet. Twilight turned her attention to her, sighing with relief.

A second later, Twilight collapsed into the water as the adrenaline began to wear off. Her carbuncle’s new fiery colours bled out of it, reverting it to its usual sapphire shades. It purred softly at her and pressed its muzzle into her cheek before slowly vanishing in a peaceful swirl of mist.

That was it. Twilight was tapped. She could do no more today.

A moment later, Y’shtola was at her side, her hands glowing with healing magic. Twilight felt the pain in her body easing, but only slightly. She heard Y’shtola cursing above her. “Damn it all! Heal her, damn you!”

“Y’shtola, it’s okay,” Twilight mumbled weakly. At least, after pulling her face out of the water. “I’m alright.”

“Twilight Sparkle, if you are going to lie to me, at least make an effort to be convincing,” Y’shtola bit back.

Twilight opened her mouth to retort but instead groaned in pain.

Y’shtola’s expression flattened. “See?”

“Shut up,” Twilight groaned.

“None of the cheek, or I shall take you across my knee!” Y’shtola quipped.

Twilight actually managed a giggle at that. “Ha… Such a mom.”

“Again with this?!” Y’shtola grunted though Twilight could not miss the small smirk in her voice. A second later, the conjurer withdrew her hands, and Twilight felt her pain ease enough that she could at least sit up. She met Y’shtola’s gaze with a grateful smile.

It was a look Y’shtola did not return. “What were you thinking?!” she almost shouted, making Twilight flinch back in shame. “I told you in exceedingly clear terms that you were not to leave the camp! Oh, just look at you! Had I not come along when I did, you’d be in imperial custody, or worse, dead!”

Twilight looked down, her ears folding back. If Y’shtola was a mom, then it was now time for the scolding.

Y’shtola went on. “Do you believe I give such orders lightly?! That they are suggestions to be ignored at your whim?! They are called doctor’s ORDERS for a reason, Twilight!”

A few seconds passed, and Twilight gave Y’shtola a firm look. “It was the Ascian,” she said simply. “The one who stole my Element. Scarmiglione. He was here. He was coming after you. I had to try and stop him.”

Y’shtola blinked. “Scarmiglione?”

Twilight nodded. “Y’sanna said his name.”

Y’shtola was quiet for a moment, her expression remaining firm. A second later, however, she began to relax, and the hard edge in her voice softened. “I see… At least something good came of this debacle. All the same, it was foolish of you to chase after him in your state. I can handle myself, Twilight. Against a black-masked Ascian, I would have been in no danger great enough to demand you place yourself in harm's way.”

Twilight looked down and heaved a heavy sigh. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry,” she said, idly scuffing her hoof through the water.

Y’shtola sighed a moment later and placed a hand on Twilight’s back. “You are forgiven,” she said softly. “And thank you for saving me.”

Twilight nodded softly, a tiny smile coming to her face. A moment later, she looked back up to Y’shtola, her brow furrowing as a question came to her. “So… You know Y’sanna?” she asked curiously.

Y’shtola’s eyes narrowed. “...It is a long story,” she said plainly. “And we’ve not the time to discuss it now. Can you stand?”

Twilight was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t get the story right now, but she knew Y’shtola was right. They were in kobold territory, and in her state, she did not want to be caught on the wrong end of one of their weapons. She grit her teeth as she rose, her every muscle begging for rest. Still, she found her balance and offered Y’shtola a nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Y’shtola smiled. “Return to the town and await me there. I was about to follow our friend into Titan’s domain when I overheard your battle, and I cannot abandon him there.”

Twilight nodded, turning to return the way she had come. A moment later, a thought occurred to her, and she looked back at Y’shtola. “Wait, you set out with a host of soldiers from Limsa. Where are they?”

Y’shtola crossed her arms, glancing back toward the domain of the kobolds. “Occupying the kobolds' outer defences and keeping them away from the aetheryte, mainly. They are deeper in than you and I.”

“I see…” Twilight turned her eyes back for the road ahead. “Alright. Be careful, Y’shtola.”

“You as well.”

With those words exchanged, Twilight began to haul herself back for Bronze Lake. As she walked, she turned her attention back to her spellbook. After a few minutes, she was feeling lucky, and with a small grunt of effort, went to call her carbuncle again.

There was a sting of pain in her horn, but the loyal creature bounded happily out of the aether, taking up a dutiful position by her side. Twilight smiled at it, giving the loyal creature an affectionate pet. “Hey. Think you can manage to walk with me back to town? I don’t want to be on my own out here…”

The carbuncle dutifully nodded and assumed a position next to its summoner as they took their leave from the trenches. It pressed its weight to Twilight, supporting her injured side as they walked without being prompted. Twilight cast the carbuncle a curious glance, and a smile graced her lips.

“Ya know… I should really give you a name, shouldn’t I?”