Sisters of Willowbrook

Chapters

Chapter 2: Fellcraft
Chapter 3: Adrift
Chapter 4: Volunteer
Chapter 5: Otherwhere
Chapter 6: Imprisoned
Chapter 8: Estate Vale
Chapter 9: Ancient Household
Chapter 10: Children of Worlds
Chapter 11: Pomegranate Seeds
Chapter 12: Strange Towers
Chapter 13: You Wouldn't Believe
Chapter 14: Put Out Your Eyes
Chapter 15: Castle in the Sky
Chapter 16: Grounded Voices
Chapter 17: Broken Goddess
Chapter 18: Fireblood
Chapter 19: Asbestos
Chapter 20: Lilac Empathy
Chapter 21: Feather Compact
Chapter 22: Schoolyard
Chapter 23: Appearances
Chapter 24: Power Source
Chapter 26: Little Problems
Chapter 27: Marked
Chapter 28: Skyward
Chapter 29: Cumulus Maze
Chapter 30: Undertaken
Chapter 31: Accessed
Chapter 32: Cast No Shadow
Chapter 33: Sightless Eyes
Chapter 34: Invisible Pain
Chapter 35: Playing the Field
Chapter 36: Fall Guy
Chapter 37: Low-Speed Collision
Chapter 38: Aggressive Memory
Chapter 39: Perspective Witness
Chapter 40: Trim Tailwind
Chapter 41: Pearlescent
Chapter 43: Royal Investigator
Chapter 44: Sailing Inward
Chapter 45: Lux
Chapter 46: Bad Act
Chapter 47: For Bad Mistakes
Chapter 48: Behind the Line
Chapter 49: Official Channels
Chapter 50: Friendly Advice
Chapter 51: Dark Probe
Chapter 52: Hungry Dreams
Chapter 53: Darkest Door
Chapter 54: United
Chapter 56: Blood Offering
Chapter 57: Camping
Chapter 58: Foul Wind
Chapter 59: Crowning Achievement
Chapter 60: Witnessed of Storms
Chapter 61: Fireflies
Chapter 62: Good Folk
Chapter 63: Aquire Bigness
Chapter 64: The Train
Chapter 65: Investigation
Chapter 66: Canterlot Trot
Chapter 67: Archive
Chapter 68: Alicorn Record
Chapter 69: Exile
Chapter 70: Sympathetic
Chapter 71: Twilight Sparkle
Chapter 72: Rage
Chapter 73: New Queen
Chapter 74: Void
Chapter 76: Lurker at the Threshold
Chapter 77: Made
Chapter 78: Whole
Epilogue
Chapter 1: Foundational
Chapter 7: Colors and Feathers
Chapter 25: Fae Doorstep
Chapter 42: Mirrored Over
Chapter 55: Before the Blade
Chapter 75: Offering

Chapter 2: Fellcraft

Charlie wasn't sure what he had expected to find in this trip. An opportunity to bring his increasingly-distant best friend back down to earth, maybe. A nice Saturday away from the pressure of the city and the vicarious stress of his patients. Sure.

But evidence, even fleeting circumstantial evidence, that his friend was right, that hadn't been on the agenda.

Charlie sat and watched as his friend prepared for his “ritual.” Of course he'd seen most of this crazy stuff before. Pretty rocks, bits of rare plants, and that oversized book he kept slung under one arm even when it made what he was doing more difficult. Derek didn't want to let it out of his sight.

"Is this like... Wiccan?" he finally asked. Hours had passed, and the various ingredients Derek brought were arranged at points around the spring. He'd used a string to do it, so their positions were all the same distance apart. A circle connected them, drawn into the mud everywhere except where the water broke it. There, the string settled onto the surface.

Somehow, the thread floated, exactly where it needed to outline the circle, even with the water flowing over in a steady current. It seemed impossible, but just like the other manifestations Charlie had seen so far, it also might have a reasonable explanation. Maybe the string had a sturdy wire core, and Derek had secured it in the mud hard enough that it could seem to resist the current. Maybe there was an almost invisible net hanging from above, or bubble of aerogel, or...

He'd thought about so many different ways to explain what he saw, but nothing felt satisfying.

"Wicca is a religion," Derek said. "And I admit, I've done some research. There's something poetic about its connection to the ancient druidic faiths. But I didn't find the magic very convincing. It reminded me too much of church. Spiritual, you know. Good feelings, but no healing amputees."

Derek straightened, brushing the mud off his knees. He wrote in the mud with the end of a stick, with a bit of glowing glass at the end. Or maybe that was a rock? Charlie still hadn't figured out how it managed to light up only when it was near the water's edge. Magnets hidden in the mud?

There were lots of ways this could be faked. But every explanation he came up with had to contend with one fact, stronger than any magic trick. Derek had no reason to lie to him.

"Anyway, this is different. You'll see in a minute. As soon as the last bit of sunlight is gone, we can start. Any doubts you have, they'll be over."

Charlie rose, scooping his sweatshirt up off the ground and tugging it on. As darkness fell, he began to feel the chill of the oncoming night. It was a good thing Nocturne Forest wasn't locked up at night, or they'd be spending the night in the car again. "How did you even find this? The vortex, I mean... people come out here all the time. They swim, they would've noticed."

"It's new," Derek agreed. "I don't know exactly when, but I found it dousing last weekend. It's more power than I've ever found in one place at once. Anyone who gets within fifty miles will be able to detect it instantly, see?"

He removed something from around his neck—a metal chain, as thin as jewelry. A chunk of amber wrapped in wire hung on the end, the ugliest necklace Charlie had ever seen. Yet when Derek held it out, it didn't fall limp the way it should. The necklace curved violently towards the center of the pond. When the man took a few steps, it pivoted like a compass needle, never wavering.

"And this didn't creep you the hell out? None of this did?"

Derek replaced it around his neck. "Everyone needs a hobby. You go to the gym, and I... I think there's more out there."

He held up the book in his other hand, turning the cover towards Charlie. But he couldn't read it, it was too dark. Charlie hadn't actually expected to still be out here. He didn't have any flashlight beyond the one in his phone.

"It's natural, it follows rules and patterns. Feelings are part of it, but it's more... laws. Repeatable results. I don't care if it all just seems like hedge-magic to you. It's proof! There's things we don't understand, Charlie. Tonight, we're going to find another one. See things most people never will. And hopefully, get enough power stored to explore this 'hobby' for the next few years."

He reached into a pocket, removing a fist-sized rock. It was mostly clear, though it had little imperfections, lines of metal and glittering facets.

"That's not a diamond," Charlie said, staring. "I know your practice makes you good money, but not that good. That would be worth, like... millions."

Derek chuckled. "I wish. A diamond this big could probably keep enough magic for a lifetime. This is just quartz, the purest I could find. Specially prepared. Opportunities like this don't come around often. You've gotta help me."

The more he shows me, the surer I can be this is real. Every drop of the unexplainable was another chance for the mask to slip.He had no choice but to help, if only for his own sake. Charlie had to know if any of this was real.

"And this is totally safe? We're not going to blow up. There's no sea monster in the pond? Sasquatch isn't going to rip our arms off?"

"Safe. I'm reasonably certain there are no cryptids here. And if there were, they wouldn't care what we're doing. This isn't their area."

You sound like you're insane. Maybe looking for proof was the wrong angle after all. Maybe what Charlie really needed to do was find the cracks in this deception, and help Derek realize it. Unless he'd been duped too. Charlie took another look around the clearing, scanning for the glint of hidden cameras. But he saw no reflections, not the eyes of wild animals, and not conspicuous lenses poking out between the trees.

"This is an easy ritual," Derek said, pocketing the gemstone. "We're just going to open the vortex a little wider and see where it goes. If it looks safe, I'll pull some of the energy back. Hopefully without collapsing it, so we can harvest this place again. But if not, I'll just try to keep it open as long as possible."

More insanity. How could he tell a therapist they sounded insane?

"Sure. Just so long as I don't have to do any mushrooms or anything."

"Nope. Just hold the other end of this." Derek held the wand towards him, crystal in his own fingers. "Oh, and put the phone down first. If you've got anything electronic on you, it might... I have no idea. Just put it down."

"Fine, but I'm still recording this. Just tell me how far away to prop up my phone."

Derek's brow furrowed, and he looked like he might refuse. But then he pointed. "A few meters away from the circle should be enough. But Charlie, you can't show this to anyone else. The community doesn't want this widely known. You have to promise me not to post that video anywhere."

"Sure," Charlie said. He found a low branch, then used his wallet to keep it balanced, rear camera facing the pond and the collection of small objects there. It's not anyone else I want to see this, anyway. When this does absolutely nothing, I need proof to show you later.

He could keep ignoring that little voice in the back of his mind, even as it grew louder. The voice that began to accept there might be some truth to some of what Derek said. All he had to do was see this through to the end.

"Once we start, you can't let go," Derek said. "I'm honestly... not sure what will happen if the ritual gets disrupted. There's more power to play with right here than I've—" He trailed off, looking away. "Ever had to work with in my entire life."

Charlie nodded, then stood in the indicated place. He gripped the stick with both hands, feeling increasingly silly. "Okay, Derek. But if I find out this whole thing was a LARP, I'm not inviting you to Friendsgiving this year. Just so you know."

Derek propped his oversized book at his feet, using a rock to weight the pages open to a specific selection. Then he started reading.

The words were lost on Charlie's ears, like fragments of a language only related to the ones he actually spoke. The little rock began to glow, letting off a trail of sparks that drifted down from a spot above the pond. Charlie would've thought they were traveling along a thread, except they didn't actually follow the same path. They wandered slightly as they moved, but all ultimately settled on the stick. With each one, the glow intensified, from a tiny speck to a bonfire.

At what point did the insane things Charlie had seen add to more than just a trick? "This can't be real!" he called.

That was probably a coincidence too, right? All around the pond, the wind began to billow. Not blowing past them, down from the mountains—it circled. Leaves and dirt and pebbles were swept up around the clearing. It lifted his jacket on his shoulders, ripped the leaves right off the nearby bushes.

Derek looked up from the book at their feet, if only for a moment. His eyes were wide, as though he were nearly as surprised as Charlie himself. But he didn't stop. He didn't reply, just kept reading.

Then Charlie saw the hole. It started small, a crack in the sky directly surrounded by sparks and smoke. There was something on the other side, a window to a room that shouldn't be there. Instead of trees and dark forest, Charlie saw stone and glass, illuminated by flickering firelight.

It grew wider by the second. As it did, the glow from the crystal on Derek's “wand” lit up like a stadium light, forcing Charlie to close his eyes.

He needed to let go, needed to turn and run. But hadn't Derek said this would be worse if they stopped now? They'd let the magic rampage out of control.

Magic. Charlie could think of no other word. Derek was right.

Over the roaring wind, he heard something else, something that he had dismissed at first. Derek's single voice reading unpronounceable gibberish was joined by others—older, younger, male, female—an entire chorus.

Finally, Derek stopped. With his voice, the light went out, letting Charlie open his eyes again. The pond was still illuminated, though not by the wand anymore. The opening persisted, several feet across now. Water streamed up from the pond below, carrying bits of underwater plants. Lily pads ripped up by the roots, flowers torn to petals before scattering through the opening.

"Can you end it?" Charlie yelled, over the voices. "This is insane! Close it!"

Derek nodded. All the smugness, all the control he'd been projecting during the trip in, that was gone. Charlie only saw terror.

Good.

"I can..." Derek began. "There should be a way to stop... there has to be."

He let go of the wand with one hand, scooping the book up with the other. He lifted it to read, flipping through a few pages—and it ripped right out of his fingers. The book tore itself apart, pages streaming through the opening in the sky at random.

Derek made a single, terrified gasp, not quite a word—then the wand went yanking sideways too. Charlie let go reflexively, trying to let it get pulled away from him. But his fingers didn't come loose.

The twig should've snapped, pulled away into a dozen different pieces. Instead, it yanked the two of them across the pond. Charlie's legs dragged through the mud and water, as though he was in the grip of a steel cable.

Derek dragged along beside him, screaming and struggling for every foot. But it made no difference. In less than five seconds, they'd made it to the center of the pond.

He barely even had the time to scream, before getting yanked up, out of the water, and through the hole in the sky.

His entire world was pain then, so intense and all-encompassing that it quickly overwhelmed him. In his final instant, he was dimly conscious of a glass barrier high above, and many shadowy forms looking down. Then the blackness overwhelmed him.

Iris knew something was wrong when the gulf finally began to open. But it wasn't anything she saw in front of her that set her off—it wasn't even the profound sense of weakness she felt, as her spellcasting and proximity to this hideous place drained every drop of strength she had.

No, the first clue that something was wrong came when Watcher's voice began to falter. His ritual chanting was always so confident, a single will so strong that he could move spiritual mountains entirely on his own.

The others didn't notice. But when his thin, off-key repetition faded from the chorus, Iris noticed. She trailed off herself, letting the spell continue around her. When she stopped chanting, her own magical contributions stopped too. The magic stopped draining her, and suddenly she could think clearly again.

How long have I been here? she wondered. It wasn't just her horn that felt drained. Her muscles ached, her throat was rubbed raw from endless chanting. Compared to some, she was in better shape. A few of her brothers and sisters had collapsed into their robes. She saw no sign of motion from within.

Could they be dead?

But there was little time for her anxious mind to wander. In front of her, the ground began to shake. Inside the dome, something strange was happening. Water poured up from somewhere invisible, collecting at the top of the glass and filling the wrong way.

It wasn't clear either, but frothy white, filled with chunks of rock and torn plants. Like it had been ripped right out of a lake.

Then light exploded through the opening, overpowering every candle and glowing horn in an eyeblink. Something big appeared in the wet dome, smacking up against the glass with two quick bumps.

A spiderweb of cracks appeared on the dome, spreading almost in slow-motion. This vessel was meant to trap a spiritual entity, not a physical assault. We weren't ready.

Iris had a second to think, and she used it. She dropped flat to the ground in her robes, covering her face and horn with her forelegs.

Then the dome exploded. It went off like a bomb in that small space, making Iris's ears ring with sudden pain. But that was nothing compared to what followed.

Chunks of crystal glass as big as a hoof went blasting past her in all directions, splashing dark water behind them. A few smashed into her forelegs, tearing through flesh as they went. One or two pieces more cut through her robe. But for her, the pain was nothing compared to some of her brothers and sisters.

She heard wet, meaty sounds as many ponies were blasted back from the point of impact. Screams of pain and terror filled the small space.

Iris moaned in quiet agony, though hers was a small pain. She'd done far better than many of the others. All things considered, she had little reason to complain.

The next hour or so was a blur for Iris. She had been near the front, after all, and most exposed to the magical shock. She barely managed to stay conscious as their coven struggled to take stock of such a spectacular failure.

They had to carry her into a nearby cavern, adapted into a makeshift medical area. Not a terribly sanitary one—the air was thick with dust from the explosion even now, and smelled of rust and mildew.

But then they got something down her throat, a vial of healing draught. Her world cleared, the fog around her mind lifted. She felt a sharp pop from each ear—burst drums healing from the potent magic. Her robe was torn, cut away in places.

She looked down, and found both forelegs heavily bandaged. A wooden splint was attached to her left leg, wrapped tight in white bandage.

"What... happened?"

The cavern was packed, every makeshift cot filled. Against the wall, pony-shaped lumps were covered with stained cloth. Creatures had actually died!

"Fear not, sister," said a familiar voice. She tensed, and realized that the Watcher himself was nearby. Not the one tending her, that was a robed initiate without the blue and black stripes that suggested higher elevations of witness.

"All knew the price that service to the true gods might exact. They went with confidence that their spirits might be taken into eternal service, rather than their bodies. So did I, and so did you. Yet we were spared."

No I wasn't! Iris thought, furious. I was just paying attention.

Iris scanned the room around her, growing more indignant. Just how many of her friends were dead? How many were in treatment, like her?

There were some familiar outlines, recognizable horns and wings, or in some cases, just unprotected ponies where robes had to be removed for treatment.

Yet she didn't make it nearly as far as taking stock of the coven's membership, before she realized there were some ponies in here who shouldn't be.

They were so small that a single cot had been used for the both of them. A heavy cloth was spread beneath them, damp from the moisture of soaking fur and manes.

A pair of little ponies, so small they didn't even have cutie marks. So small they curled up together in a single, shivering ball. Neither had bandages, or other sign of injury.

Watcher noticed her gaze, turning towards Iris. While she couldn't see his expression, she could hear the anticipation in his voice, the eagerness. "Not the old gods we expected, perhaps," he said. "Yet they may be more than they appear. Our ritual was not entirely in vain after all."

Chapter 3: Adrift

For days, or maybe hours, or maybe minutes, Derek dreamed. Dreamed of pain unrealized, of agonies unfulfilled. Dreamed of shadows that swam in distant places, and emerged to strike him down. Dreamed of small spaces, and small creatures that fled forever and never found relief.

Then the dreaming ended, and Derek wasn't Derek anymore.

There was cold first, liquid that soaked into a tight mat of cloth, or maybe something else. There were sensations, but none that made sense. The ground was rough, and smells of dirt and antiseptic raged in the air. Maybe blood too, and worse. Who am I?

She had come looking for something, that memory was clear. Traveled far into the forest, where others feared to go. There would be evidence out there, proof for those who didn't believe. Proof she needed to find, because...

She didn't remember that part. But she remembered enough to feel that something was wrong. Why did she feel so small? I shouldn't be here.

She started moving. Kicking first, just to get her hands under her. But that didn't make sense. What were those again? She struggled, flailing around wildly, until forelegs touched up against something confining. A sheet! She shoved, pulling it away from her as hard as she could, squirming free.

Her eyes opened, but what she saw didn't make sense. A nose—white, maybe purple? Where was that color coming from? Her world was illuminated by flickering candlelight, barely bright enough to see by.

She was on a bed, though it was more a pile of blankets dumped haphazardly against the ground. At first she thought she was alone, tucked into this strange stone place, but no. Another lump lay beside her, so close that she could feel the warmth.

Where am I? She should be in the forest, shouldn't she? There was a waterfall that people called forbidden. Her car was parked in the lot, she didn't have an overnight permit. She would get booted.

There were more important things, but her memory still wasn't working right. Nothing was—her hands were still numb, and her limbs too weak. This was wrong.

She squirmed forward, towards the other smell. Somehow, her nose told her certain details without any need or ability to properly understand them. The other smelled small, damp, and somehow a little like ozone. Maybe she'd crashed down from the sky?

She tried to say her best friend's name, to get her attention. But her lips weren't working right. Or maybe it was just the dampness and the cold that turned it into a pathetic squeak.

Something stirred in the distance, coming from some part of the room that she couldn't see. But she didn't turn to look. She had found herself a goal, and now she intended to pursue that goal to the exclusion of everything else. She was almost there.

Finally she reached her, enough to get the sheets in her mouth and tug them violently away. She felt an instant sense of recognition as she exposed the sleeping creature's face. This was her friend, obviously. They'd gone into the woods together. But what had she been trying to prove again?

What kind of alien was this? She froze in place, staring in shock at the creature she'd revealed. This was her best friend, yet... she'd never seen anything like this in her life.

She was a horse, though she couldn't imagine any horse had ever come in yellow and bright orange before. Her friend was built differently than she was—leaner and more graceful, more aerodynamic. Because she had a set of wings, orange on the top but with bright yellow visible from the underside.

"What are you?" Whatever strangeness was happening to her mouth before, this time it worked. She'd never heard that voice before, just as she'd never heard the one who made such terrified squeaks. This isn't me.

It wasn't her, yet obviously it had to be. Who else could she be?

She turned, glancing over at herself. That would give her some insight, surely. Once she knew who herself was, everything would become clear to her.

She saw a long body, pale purple with more legs than there ought to be, and a tail that flicked nervously back and forth even as she watched. Something that shouldn't be—couldn't, really. Yet it was her body.

"One of them is awake," said a voice from nearby, the doorway in fact. The only opening in her prison of stone.

They too were incongruous, though they wore thick robes that obscured much of how they actually looked. The face emerging from within looked as strange as the one in the bed beside her. "See?"

"The Watcher is almost here," answered another voice, though she couldn't see them. "Just keep her calm until he arrives."

She turned back to her companion, feeling urgent. The addition of strangers brought another rush of concerns—she was missing something, something critical. What was it?

While she tried to remember, she nudged at the smaller, sleeping form. "Wake up—" She tried to say the name, and again it wouldn't come to her. She could almost form it on her tongue. "Please wake up."

She should've had hands to shake them to alertness. But the thing on the end of her arm wasn't a hand. And it probably wasn't an arm either. "We do things together, I remember that part! Come on!"

The sleeper stirred, moaning groggily. She rolled to one side, and that strange wing on her back extended, pushing the hoof away. "A few more minutes. Alarm... didn't go off yet."

"There won't be an alarm," she whispered, growing more urgent by the second. "I don't think we're... where we're supposed to be."

The smaller one opened her eyes, as bright green as those accent feathers. Then she jolted, sliding backward along the floor in a rush of fur and mane. They were similar, yes—but the way her friend moved was so different. More like a hummingbird, each motion incredibly rapid and jerky. "What's going on? How do I know you?"

Her friend managed to sit up, though she did so against the wall instead of standing, spraying blankets around her as she moved.

She followed her friend backward—mostly because she felt safer with her than the mysterious strangers outside. "We went in together, looking for things! I was going to prove... I think this? Maybe something else. I'm trying to remember."

"You're—" Her voice cut off abruptly. "I know it. Why can't I say it?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped herself. She didn't actually know. She didn't know where they were, or even what they were. "Something magic happened," was all she could say. "I don't think it went the way I expected. I wasn't trying to make us small."

"Good." Her friend slumped to the ground, both wings splaying at random to either side. "I admit it, I was wrong. You're right... whatever you wanted to prove, you proved it. Can I go home now?"

Something moved in the cavern outside, and her eyes turned. Several sets of footsteps scraped and rustled against the stone, until shadows resolved themselves from the gloom.

Two more robed figures filled the hallway. A glow illuminated from... spikes? Hopefully those didn't go all the way into their bodies, that would hurt!

Horns, maybe. Mythical unicorns, producing a steady glow too bright to be bioluminescent. And between them, another figure. He was smaller, yet somehow took up more space. Magic?

She wasn't sure where the thought came from, yet once she considered it, she couldn't think of anything else. "Be gone, all of you," said a voice, so shriveled and ancient that she was surprised they could speak at all. "Around the corridor, where you will not be harmed if this goes poorly. Go!"

The four robed figures scattered in both directions, with real fear in their footsteps. Though like so much else that she saw, they didn't quite make sense. It was all wrong.

The figure who stepped inside was still twice their size, maybe more. His robes were different, adorned with lines of text stitched delicately from gold. But she couldn't read any of it—couldn't even recognize the language. Can I read? It felt like something she should be able to do, but she couldn't actually remember any specifics.

"I offer greetings to those of shadow and smoke," he said. "We have been watching faithfully for you, from one life-age of this sphere to the next."

Her mouth hung open. Her friend actually cowered in the blanket, wings jerking flat to her sides and ears folding backward. But she couldn't do that herself—she needed to hear this.

"I am Watcher of the sisterhood, eldest and defiant to the false duality of sun and moon. What names are yours, that they may be recorded and duly honored by all who speak to the low places?"

She quivered, and would've retreated further from this strange creature if there was any further to go. At least her friend was close—she would be much more afraid to face him alone.

"Our n-names?" she finally said, her voice a squeak. "I would tell you, but... I can't."

The creature, Watcher, reacted. His attention focused on her, and he took another step towards her. Yet he didn’t seem angry.But without being able to see a face, she couldn't tell exactly how he must be feeling.

A set of lanterns against the wall barely penetrated his hood, yet what she couldn't see only deepened her fear. She saw no reflection of eyes from within.

"We have recorded the secret names of those cast down by the tyrants. We know all your deeds, and would honor you in your return. That is our purpose, for which we have shed much blood."

Had he actually moved? Maybe she was imagining it—the sides of that robe didn't actually rustle, and she heard no footsteps. But when she looked away, Watcher had moved closer to her. And she had nowhere left to go.

"It isn't that we don't... trust you?" she said, glancing nervously at her friend for help. The other small thing opened one eye, looked at Watcher, then curled up again. "I can't tell you. The word... I can't say it. Feels like... magic."

Though she couldn't say exactly where the blockage came. She could imagine the name, almost reach it—but then it slipped away and was gone again. Something that didn't fit, like much of her memories. Memories of being bigger, of being something else. Memories that made her face turn bright red to remember.

It was a good thing she didn't have a mirror, or more time to examine her situation. The more she remembered, the more confused and uncomfortable she would feel. Maybe her friend could help her work through those feelings, but she didn't want Watcher anywhere in the same building when she tried, let alone the same room.

"Oh." The figure stopped moving, and his tone changed. "That is... not what we expected. But we did not expect you to look like... you do, either. You ruled as the great ones of old, before you were cast down by traitors. You are incomplete."

Was that his way of saying small and pathetic? Or maybe he knew she should be male.

"Do you remember? You have been banished for such a long time... yet now you return. Beneath your hooves, the false kingdoms tremble! Tell me the plan you prepared for us. Tell me how we will conquer the tyrants."

She made a sound—not quite any particular word, more a collection of whimpers like her friend was making. She wobbled, then the strength to stand finally failed her, and she collapsed beside her friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about—" was what she tried to say. But it turned to tears after a few seconds, then uncontrolled sobbing.

Her friend's voice echoed in her ears, just as pained as her own. "I just want to go home!" she sobbed.

Chapter 4: Volunteer

Iris Vale waited nervously in a distant corner of the dark sanctum, ears poised for motion down the hall. The sisterhood's healing salves had done their work, for her and the other members who survived the impact.

But there were nearly a dozen of their number who had not survived. It didn't matter how powerful the healing magic they summoned—a corpse was a corpse. You could make it move again if you wanted, but that didn't make it alive.

"They're children," said a sister beside Iris, her voice conspiratorial. "The old gods themselves might be terrible and mighty—they might have ended our sisterhood without even meaning to. Perhaps this is not a failure, but a blessing."

Most of these ponies were the oldest, slowest, and weakest of their number—those who had been too old to meaningfully contribute to the ritual. Those in back, spared the worst of the blast.

Willowbrook will notice so many deaths all at the same time. Will anyone put together what we all had in common? If SMILE is still looking for us… But Iris needed to have a little more faith. She did the will of those who came before. The old ones would watch after those who obeyed. She had no need to fear. Just like my brothers and sisters had no fear, and are now taken up into the embrace of the true gods.

That kind of thing was so much easier to believe in theory, when she didn’t actually have to wonder how many of her friends would never be seen again.

“They may be testing us,” said a brother, older than the first by far. But not as old as the Watcher, not even close. “The old gods were masters of all magic, with powers that lesser creatures as ourselves cannot even comprehend. It would be easy for them to appear in flesh as something feeble, to see if we will give them honors.”

“But shouldn’t they be alicorns?” whispered someone else. That was Blue Ridge—so at least one of her friends was still here. He came from the same modern school of magic that Iris herself did. For him, this was less about religious faith, and far more about facts and simple reality. Of course the old ones were worthy of worship, that was eminently clear from any who studied the past. Their youngest siblings, modern tyrants—those were what was new.

“We don’t know they aren’t,” said the first sister, reproving. “I heard from Watcher that they glowed with power beyond any mortal pony. They’re like embers from a flame, even if they’ve chosen simple forms for themselves.”

A low mutter of acknowledgement passed through the room, as the various brothers and sisters all tried to reconcile what they’d been through together. This task was no easier for Iris—they had all lost friends. The culmination of years of preparation, for what? Would they spend another century in darkness, hiding in their rotting mansions and old castles? Equestria was waxing, as its conquerors finally overcame the curses placed upon them.

Something moved in the hall outside, loud enough that Iris turned towards it. The entire sisterhood was on edge—a few even tumbled from their seats, or hurried to stand awkwardly in case the one arriving was worthy of respect. As it turned out, they were, and the Watcher glided into the room, filling the doorway with a faintly green light. One by one, all bowed before him, including Iris.

“All rise,” he said, after an uncomfortably long time. “As some of you know, I have spoken now with those of old, who are now resting in the chamber we set aside for them.”

That was it. Iris waited for him to continue, but Watcher seemed content to say nothing else. He almost turned, but somepony braver than herself finally spoke up. “What do they command? Which of the ancient ones have returned from banishment? Whose kingdom will we bring?”

Watcher didn’t answer at first. There was a time when he was beyond question, when even casual inquiry from lesser members of their sisterhood might have brought rebuke, or worse. But tension was strong tonight, like a predatory cat preparing to spring. His power might be vast, but it did have limits.

“The process of travel into this realm has caused them great duress,” he eventually said. “Sisters, brothers, do not despair. We knew this would be difficult. When the true gods were banished so long ago, their conquerors took whatever steps they could to secure their false rule. The most important parts of the process had already been accomplished. The star and stone is shattered, and two have returned from the other side. In time, we will recover others.”

“At what cost in lives?” Blue asked. It might just be the bravest thing Iris had ever seen from him. “We don’t even know what went wrong yet, do we? We should’ve been able to contain the old ones, until we knew that they were loyal to us. We could not even contain two of their fillies for the length of the ritual. What if we call an army next time? Or one of the noble and great ones?”

Watcher smacked something against the ground, silencing him at last. Maybe it was the looks of sympathy from the other members of the group—or maybe he just didn’t have the patience to deal with dissent in the ranks. “We will not go tomorrow, young witness. We have waited for many lifetimes. The old ones are patient, yet unyielding. They will wait for us to be certain. Quell your objections until then, and you may yet be rewarded.”

He did, nodding nervously and settling back into his chair. Yet his courage gave Iris confidence. “What of those who arrived? Will the old ones remain with us? Will they return the way they came?”

“Would you?” someone asked from a distant corner of the room, mocking. “Even in shame, they’re still in Equestria. Would you want to go back?”

“We could destroy the bodies that imprison them, and send them back,” said another. “We may have trapped great generals and kings in the bodies of children. They would be outraged if they could be.”

There was some agreement at that. The old ones were supposed to be so mighty they were almost impossible to imagine. It was hard to reconcile that truth with the feeble creatures that Iris had seen shivering under hospital blankets.

“Release the souls of those we have trapped,” another sister agreed. “It would be wise. Otherwise, what would we do with them? Are their powers controlled, Watcher?”

He nodded. “Well hidden now, wrapped in many layers of spell. Other steps have been taken, to cloud the memories of their bodies. They were only awake for a few minutes, so the magic should be simple.”

“Spells upon the old ones,” someone muttered. “Are we so mighty?”

“No,” Watcher said. “But we did not have to oppose the old ones, only the imperfect bodies they found here. That is not so great an effort, even in my weakened state. Thus we preserve our options.” There was a faint flash, and suddenly he was in the center of the room, with brothers and sisters of their order surrounding him on all sides. Despite their recent disasters, he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by this. He stood tall in ceremonial robes, thin horn protruding from within like something dead and rotting.

“I see two paths for us—the path of respect and caution, or the path of daring and achievement. We who live will judge between them. All of rank to witness will cast their will before us now.”

At these ceremonial words, every creature settled onto their haunches, surrounding the Watcher in an imperfect circle. There were too many missing ponies, too many empty places.

“To take the path of respect, we will return to the perpendicularity, and destroy the bodies that have formed here. The essence of the old ones, as immortal now as ever, will return to join with the others in renewed banishment. Perhaps they will give word of our imminent success, stripped away in the final moments. Perhaps they will remember nothing, and the old ones will continue to watch without knowing.”

“Yet they may be angered to be returned below,” said one ancient voice near the center of the circle. “Would they see us like the tyrants and pretenders who banished them once, in times ancient and forgotten?”

The room filled with muttering, though not all of it was in the affirmative.

Watcher waited for it to fall silent before speaking again. “The other option before us is one of greater daring. We take upon ourselves some risk to allow these bodies to survive—yet if they live, growing to maturity again in Equestria, they may recover their strength. Even paupers from among the old gods may speak volumes to us of what came before. They might share magic that Equestria has forbidden, and rewrite what the pretenders sought to erase.”

“But if they were discovered in the meantime…” said one older voice. “They would be connected to us, in time. We brought them here—the sympathy cannot be erased. Celestia would send her armies, and destroy us just as the brotherhood of the north was destroyed.”

“It’s too risky,” said another voice. “The gods will be forgiving. They will know our work is a process, and our loyalty is to them. We could send them with this message when we returned them to Below.”

Watcher cleared his throat loudly, suddenly enough that all stopped to stare at him again. “This is the decision before us. We must decide soon—we cannot obscure their memories for long, or know what pain they might inflict in their wrath if they should return to their power suddenly. Likewise, we cannot know the reward they might bestow if we are patient with them, risking ourselves in the name of this sacred charge.

“So I ask that all creatures who wish to return them, be counted. We have no time to delay.”

Ponies all through the room shuffled and moved. One by one, many stood. Their number might be daring, risking discovery and murder at the hooves of Equestria. But they had not survived so long by an abundance of willingness to risk for nothing. These ponies were brave, but careful.

Iris saw the sleeping ponies in her mind again, covered in threadbare sheets. She saw helpless foals—older than River, but not by much. Were the old ones less deserving of continuing the lives they had come to live? Would they really want to go back to being banished? What did growing up one more time even matter to an immortal?

She couldn’t leave this to chance, not again. “It’s wrong,” she said. “Spilling more blood, when so many of our brothers and sisters died to make this happen. They risked everything, gave their lives for this chance. We owe them taking this gamble in return. Otherwise, it was for nothing.”

A few ponies looked at her. Some of those sat down, bringing the total clearly beneath the majority. Watcher turned towards her, though she sensed nothing of hostility from him this time. She wasn’t contradicting his authority, as Blue had dared. This was a far safer gamble. “You realize what you suggest, witness,” he said. “We are not simply sparing the lives of these and setting them loose. They must be observed, and guided if possible. Leaving them alive may be opening an opportunity to our sisterhood—if raised properly, we could coax them into membership, raise them with an attitude of loyalty. When they finally grow into their powers, they might share their secrets willingly, despite the differences in our station.”

Iris knew what he meant without him having to say it. It was as good as an order. She could either put her own flank on the line, or back down. All around her, ponies slid slightly away from her, so that the cavern was totally clear on either side. No one else would be volunteering themselves beside her.

“I know of someone friendly to our sisterhood,” said Blue, voice shaking. “He has wanted to adopt for some time, but always refused. A pegasus, so he would be able to train the young member of that tribe.”

“That still leaves another,” Watcher said, a little more forcefully. “What say you, sister? Are you willing to invest yourself in this? Do you believe so strongly we should take this chance, that you are willing to suffer if it goes poorly? Surely the old ones would also see you as most worthy of rewards, if you are successful. You would rise far among us, steward of the old ones as they recover their kingdom at last.

She could back down, say something appropriately groveling, and let the Watcher lord it over her a bit. He’d reaffirm his authority to the sisterhood, and all would know he spoke for the will of those who had been dishonored. But then she’d have to be there while they cut those little throats—maybe he’d even make her do it.

“I will care for the other,” she said firmly. “If the others grant me this privilege. True kings and queens of this realm grant their mercy."

There were a few scattered objections after that, but nothing with any chance of holding water. She was a witness in her own right, and her covenant was her bond. Within minutes, the motion was carried.

Now all they had to do was make Willowbrook believe whatever lie they invented for the origin of these creatures.

Gods of the past? Or helpless foals. She would soon find out.

Chapter 5: Otherwhere

Charlie was... somewhere.

For a long time, she'd been somewhere else. She remembered dark spaces, cramped hallways, riding in somewhere long and bumpy.

It didn't matter that those memories were entirely incongruous—impossible, even. Somehow she had to take two pieces that didn't make sense, and assemble them into a whole.

She traveled far, but nowhere exceptionally dangerous. She was worried about her friend, who grew increasingly erratic and confused in the messages she sent. Ever since Victoria left him, he'd been barely holding it together, digging into deeper and stranger holes in search of connection.

She should still be in that place, shouldn't she? She hadn't had the time to remove her belongings, she had work in the morning.

Charlie opened both eyes, sitting up violently and scattering an ocean of blankets and pillows. In a single instant, her confusion expanded to vast proportions. Every factor she searched for to orient herself was wrong.

It started right at her nose, which protruded far too visibly in her field of view. There were no glasses or any sign of her contacts, yet she still saw perfectly clear, saw into a room which couldn't exist anywhere in the forest she had gone to explore.

The space was fairly small—a bedroom so tight that the oversized bed wedged itself between two protruding walls. The windows were high overhead, far too high to make any sense. And in the bed with her, close enough that she'd probably been lying just beside her, was a sleeping animal.

A purply, lavender-looking creature not too different from a horse, except that she looked almost nothing like one. Those proportions were too human, particularly the eyes. Her colors would've required a cruel amount of dye, except they seemed to go down right to the roots of her mane.

The little creature slept peacefully, apparently oblivious to Charlie's sudden waking. Charlie did her best to escape quietly, backing away along the surface of the bed until she reached the edge.

Even the simple act of moving that far was difficult for her—her arms didn’t seem to want to work right, and she kept flopping forward, rather than sitting up properly. And when she finally saw her arms in the feeble light of morning, she could see why.

They were covered in a soft orange and yellow fur, darker on one side than the other, and ending in a pair of flat, useless stumps. Just like the ones on the sleeping animal in front of her.

She almost rushed over to it, maybe waking it for help. But no, this stranger wasn't the one she needed to talk to. She needed to find Derek. Her memory was still hazy on the exact details, but she remembered enough. He'd been there to see what Derek wanted him to see. His friend had done something, something that should've been impossible. It went wrong.

And now she was here, wherever "here" was. A bedroom that was at once cramped between two narrow walls and an opening barely big enough for a door... but also huge, wide enough that two of them could comfortably share the same bed.

She didn't feel intoxicated, her mind was clear. Afraid, confused, memory a little hazy—but her thoughts came easily.

She flopped sideways off the bed, squealing as she went down. Something stretched to her either side—wings? She slowed a little more than she probably should have, before touching down on a heavily carpeted floor. What farmer in their right mind would use carpet in a room with livestock?

She landed, then rolled. She stood up, but only on all fours. It would have to do. She had to see what had happened to her.

The mirror wasn't big, actually it looked more like a toy. It didn't even reach halfway up the wall, with heart-shaped designs twisted into the metal along with a detailed sun at its crown. But the mirror still reflected well enough, so she could see herself.

Charlie looked back at something that wasn't her staring back in the mirror. A horse looked back, the smallest looking horse she'd ever seen. A horse with huge eyes of green, and wings that looked far too big for its teeny little body, dragging on the floor.

She twisted around in disbelief, staring at where those wings ought to be—there they were, feathers and all.

"This isn't... right," she said. She was supposed to be... bigger! She should be standing on two legs! She should be strong, confident! "I'm not me."

She sounded like her little niece had, at their last family reunion. That girl had been... six? "I'm not a little girl." Even in her head, the voice sounded wrong. Her whole body didn't fit.

The door beside her swung open, just a crack. Something stood in the opening, something that was at least twice her height. Yet she didn't find its alien shape nearly as disturbing as her own—it was another horse, somehow older and more mature.

It also wasn't naked, but wore a simple white hat and vest. There were words on each, or maybe just letters, but Charlie couldn't read them. They came from no alphabet she'd ever seen. "Sweetheart, you're awake?" she said, in a voice as sweet as maple syrup. "I'm sorry, I thought we were being quieter. You can go back to bed."

Through the door was another room, a room with uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs and a desk that must've been over her head level. An office? Except that the ones sitting in it were horses too. She moved forward to get a better look, but the huge horse stuck out one hoof, catching her by the chest.

She might as well be pushing against rebar for all the good it did. "We'll be finished in a few hours, and get you sent home. Don't worry."

"Oh." She relaxed, settling backwards into a sitting position. Her hindlegs folded against the ground, with her forelegs remaining upright. Maybe dogs sat like that sometimes, only the legs didn’t bend quite the same. "I do want to go home."

"Just get back to bed," the creature said. Her voice was so much deeper than Charlie's, yet at the same time sensitive and soft. It calmed her to hear it, though she couldn't have said why. She nodded, lowered her head submissively, and stood still as the larger creature shut the door, plunging her back into the gloom of early morning.

For a few seconds Charlie just stood there, feeling more relaxed than she had so far. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go back to bed.

She made it back up onto the bed, possible only by getting a running start to hop the distance up with a bounce.

It jostled the other creature, who had until this moment been asleep, snoring so faintly that Charlie could only hear it from right beside her.

The sound stopped abruptly, and she cracked open a pair of vibrantly green eyes. Were those the same shade as hers? She'd have to check when they were both in the mirror.

"Where... am I?" she asked. Her voice was slightly lower than Charlie's, though there was a squeakiness about the way she said some words. She backed up until she was vertical against the headboard, clutching the blanket with her as she went.

Charlie blinked, watching her in silence for a few seconds. She wanted to answer, but when she opened her mouth, she realized that she didn't actually know either. "I don't know."

Why was she getting back into bed again? It couldn't just be because the nice-sounding horse lady had told her to, right? She stopped moving abruptly, and her desire to stop also manifested in her wings. She spread them both wide, catching herself near the edge of the bed. She could think here, figure out what she was doing.

The purple horse watched her closely. She seemed to consider her words carefully—more than Charlie had when meeting the stranger just outside. "I'm looking for my friend," she said. "He is..." Her face twisted to discomfort, like she'd just bit her tongue. "...tall. Strong, brave, popular. About... I don’t know big. Stands on just two legs, no fur..."

Charlie listened to the description, watching the constant nervous twitching of the little horse's ears. She didn't seem to be in control of herself, any more than Charlie was.

"You're talking about—" She tried to say “human,” but the word just wouldn't come out. She tried to sound it out, and suddenly a headache nearly doubled her over.

She slumped onto the soft sheets, breathing heavily. What the hell was that? She looked up, wiping the moisture from her eyes and trying again. "You are talking about one who..." Slow, one word at a time. "...went into the forest. Looking for magic?"

Those words worked. Some seemed almost effortless, like “magic.” Others made her think for a few seconds before they would come out.

But the other horse nodded eagerly, darting over to her. So eagerly that she tripped over herself in bed, and flopped sideways. She landed sprawled in the sheets and blankets, righting herself on unsteady legs.

She doesn't know how to move either. "Did you see him? I need help! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"

Charlie sat up, looking as confident as she could. Her mind would never have jumped to such an absurd conclusion, except for one thing—it had happened to her first. "Did you go into the forest? Did you... take... your friend?"

"Yes!" she said again, nodding. "Wait. How do you know? I would have... I would remember you. So... weird. I've never seen anything in the forest that looks like you."

"I didn't look like this," Charlie said. She reached out with one leg, resting it on the horse's shoulder. She had to reach up to do it, but not by much. They weren't that different in size. "I was with you, D—" She choked, and the word wouldn't come out, like so many others.

"What's going on?" She looked up, laying on her side in the blankets and pillows. "Where are we? Whatever magic you used, you have to make it go away! I have work!"

The horse stared down at her, recognition finally dawning. Despite how fundamentally alien the little horse looked, her expressions were easy to read. Familiar, even. "You're... him," she said. "Whose name... doesn't work. Like lots of stuff."

Charlie nodded. Though if she couldn't even say the name, was it really hers? She sat up, looking as confident as she could. If this was Derek, then she would need support to keep working through high stress. "I need you to reverse this," Charlie said. "You're the one who knows how it happened. You're the one with magic."

Her friend whimpered and buckled, pulling away from her leg. She sniffed, wiping tears away from her eyes. "I-I-I... I don't know any of that!" She looked away, tail falling limp. "I read my spellbook... over and over again. Every page. There was nothing about being a horse in there!"

"But..." Charlie tried to speak cautiously. She might feel extremely passionate, but just a little too much energy would probably be enough to frighten her friend even more. If Derek locked up, it could take hours or maybe even days before she was able to accomplish anything again.

She tried to say her name again, maybe calm her down. It didn't work, and she just ended up coughing for a few seconds. "Deep breaths. I don't know anything about this, but you do. Tell me everything you remember. Anything that might be useful."

"Um..." The horse hyperventilated for a few seconds, her mane waving wildly around her. "I, uh... magic. I found something called a... per-pen-dicu-larity." She went over each syllable carefully, obviously concentrating. "Where high magic touches down into the world of... our world. I brought a crystal to harvest it, prepared it... then we were doing a ritual..."

She whimpered, covering her head with both hooves. "Ugh. I don't know what the spell was!" She squeaked quietly into a pillow, not quite any specific word, her hindlegs falling limp behind her.

That was all Charlie needed to see to know there was no point in pushing further, at least for now. Her friend would need to cool down. "Okay. Just keep thinking about it. Let me know if you remember anything else."

Chapter 6: Imprisoned

Derek could barely think through the aching in her head long enough to focus on the world around her. If she relaxed for even a second, the incongruous feelings of her body would return to assault her, with legs that were too long, hands that weren't there when she expected them, ears that somehow moved her hair around when her emotions grew a little too strong.

Even worse, she had Charlie right beside her, putting constant pressure on her to solve this. She was the one who had got them into this mess, she was the only one who could get them out again. She knew magic, her friend hadn't even believed it existed.

Charlie was right. She should have all the answers. Trouble was, she didn't have a single one. Of the little spells she had memorized enough to try, none would help change her back, none could identify this strange place they'd somehow found their way into.

It was as though she had led the two of them together with a delicate handheld GPS, then dropped it down a ravine right as a terrible storm arrived to rip their tents right out of the ground.

What did you do when you'd failed so badly you didn't even know how to start fixing things? In Derek's case, she buried her head in the blankets and waited to wake up from this nightmare.

She didn't, of course. Charlie kept moving around beside her, an even stranger alien than herself. What would it feel like to have two more limbs that didn't belong? Something like her tail and ears, maybe.

"Let's take stock of what we know..." Charlie said, voice only slightly muffled by the pillow. That was another problem with hiding like this—her body's senses were so good that she couldn't actually block out the world just by covering her face.

"We're horses. Do you know why? Is there any magic that can do that?"

"I... think so..." She shook herself free of the pillow, though she didn't actually stand up. Instead, she lay on her side, with blankets and pillows wrapping around her like a constant hug. That felt a little better, though she couldn't have said why.

"Transfiguration is... really intense. You need incredible power for that. The book basically says never to do it to anything smarter than a plant. It's way easier to give something cancer than change it correctly."

"And you had power," Charlie prompted. "That was the whole point. Could you have done this by mistake?" She kept her voice low with every word, as though she were afraid of someone overhearing them. But Derek could see no others in the room. There wasn't really space for anyone else. Past the bed was a standing mirror, a trunk for clothes or belongings, then a single massive door. Nothing else.

"Not a chance. You need to know the result perfectly, the way a geneticist might." She sat up, scratching her head with one hoof. It felt strange, more sensitive than she expected. Or... there was some skin between the edges of her hoof. Maybe with a little practice, she could use it to grab something? There was probably a name for that.

"Maybe, maybe I know enough about how minds work to stop it from making us insane. Mapping our brains onto another body... but probably not. This was never the plan."

The little horse beside her opened her wings as she walked a slow circle around the edge of the bed, apparently using them for balance. Maybe she could control them already.

"What was the plan?" she asked casually. "If nothing went wrong... what woulda happened?"

"Uh..." She tried to remember. Focusing on anything about magic was hard, like saying words that didn't work. But she pressed, until her head felt like it would split open from the headache and she could push no harder. "Gather... power. Then use it. Practice, get better. I was gonna try... simple stuff. Luck. Maybe be smarter. Or live longer. Might try different things."

"Doesn't sound anything like what happened with us," Charlie said. "I feel like... the opposite of smarter. The longer I'm awake, the more I'm thinking through a fog. You know?"

Derek nodded. "I knew things that made sense to me before. But explaining them is hard. Shouldn't be."

"And some words we can't say," her friend said. "Including names. How could that happen?"

She shook her head once. "No clue. There are some names you shouldn't say. Forbidden names, that attract attention. That seemed like superstition. But I can't think of how we would be stopped from saying our own."

Just like she couldn't think of any reason they should be in a giant room, changed into a pair of weird horse-things. "I don't like how I sound," she whispered. She needed no external reason not to want to be overheard just now. "Am I a girl?"

Charlie hesitated. "I've seen horses before. You want me to look?"

Derek nodded, ears pressing flat with embarrassment and face heating to bright red. Maybe the fur would stop her embarrassment from being visible. Maybe.

"Try to lift your tail," Charlie said, after a second. "I don't wanna touch it."

Could she? In thinking about it, Derek twitched her lower body, then the tail responded. She flipped it up, then sideways so she felt most of the hair falling over her butt. Probably a word for that.

Charlie squealed, a sound that by itself told Derek all she needed to know.

She plopped violently down onto the bed, covering herself as quickly and completely as she could. "That bad?"

Charlie nodded. She slunk away, then flopped off the edge of the bed with another thump. Derek didn't even have to watch to know she was going over to the mirror. Somehow she managed to twist herself around, lifting her own tail for a second.

She squealed again, far less shock this time. Now the sound was grimly resolved, defeated. She dragged herself over to the bed, speaking up towards Derek. "Anything in your book that could explain this?"

This time she didn't have to hesitate, or doubt herself. "Nothing even remotely."

"Figured." Charlie flopped onto the floor, spreading out there like a useless lump. Derek understood the sentiment perfectly. "What do we do? What kind of... weird petting zoo kidnapped us?"

Derek had no answer. Sunlight streamed in from the windows to either side, fairly bright now. But they were so high she could see nothing but the occasional cloud pass overhead. Maybe some birds, but they moved so quickly and inconsistently that she couldn't get a good look.

"We might be able to get that door open. Maybe you could get up onto my shoulders?"

Charlie groaned, crawling over to the trunk. Unlike the door and windows, it was positioned at their height, so that it was easy and comfortable for her to flip it open.

There were folded clothes inside, or maybe those were blankets?

That was enough to make Derek finally roll sideways out of bed. flopping down onto the ground to investigate for herself. But the bed wasn't up that high—maybe it was built for animals their size too.

Charlie poked inside, wedging one of her hooves under the first layer and flipping it out onto the ground in front of them.

Even having never seen it before, Derek recognized the basic shape instantly. Thin loops at the shoulders, then wide ruffles and an opening on the back. The fabric was plain gray, with a few faded pink ribbons at regular intervals. Like something calculated to make the wearer seem small and pathetic.

It would probably be a perfect fit.

Charlie made a frustrated sound, digging deeper. In an instant, the trunk became an absolute mess of crumpled fabric, spread in an unrecognizable jumble.

Derek leaned in behind her, squinting down at what was inside. A few different sizes—some had weird holes in the back, while others were older and of a slightly longer cut. They would probably be even more inconvenient to wear.

"It's not fair," Charlie grumbled. "There aren't any shorts in here. Girls wear shorts." She settled down on her haunches. "The ones outside were naked. Maybe I shouldn't bother."

"Outside?" Derek pawed at the fallen dress with one hoof. It took a little dexterity to open it with one leg. But once she did, she could see the way it was supposed to be worn.

Before she could second-guess herself, Derek squirmed forward, wedging her head between the straps, then wiggling her forelegs into place. The fabric settled up against her, hugging the body that she didn't recognize.

It was a little uncomfortable to have fur pressed so flat. She twitched her hindlegs once, the way she'd seen dogs react when something dirty stuck to them. Maybe she'd feel better naked too.

"You're gonna wear a dress?" Charlie asked, indignant. "Why?"

Derek couldn't answer. She couldn't explain why she'd felt or done a lot of things since waking up. There was something particularly strange in her head, memories of... somewhere cramped and dark, with walls that dripped and were spotted with strange markings. A cave, maybe?

"Better than nothing," she said.

Charlie laughed, the first familiar thing she'd heard from her friend since arriving here. She could almost hear her old friend's voice in it, if Charlie had been several times her current age, and also male.

"Not to me. Knock yourself out." She shoved away at the bundle of clothes, smacking the box closed. At least she could hide the mess she'd created.

Strange sounds echoed from the doorway, like half a dozen people all moving together at once. Derek stumbled away, but didn't trip on the dress. It was more of a skirt really, and didn't get in the way of her legs. Somehow it had been designed for her stupidly confusing body.

She wasn't sure who she expected to be standing at the door. Maybe a park ranger, in their green uniform. Maybe a dog-catcher, maybe a team of riot police.

What she didn't expect was a horse, twice her size and wearing a simple white vest. She grinned down at Derek, eyes going directly to the skirt. "Sorry to keep you waiting. How are you two?"

Derek retreated, her tongue going suddenly numb. She wanted to answer, but she couldn't string the words together. Something about seeing an adult alien for the first time, or maybe wanting to know the way home. It blurred into a confusing mess of nothing in particular.

At least her friend was a little better with people. Charlie stood beside her, resting one leg around her shoulder. "Can you tell us what's going on? We want to go home."

That wasn't the way Charlie usually talked—but at least she'd managed to say anything at all.

"We've been arranging the details of that very thing," said the gigantic horse. She stepped into the doorway, causing the two of them to recoil almost in unison.

But she didn't back down, following them into the room. She dropped down onto one leg, lowering her head until she was almost at eye level with them. "I have some difficult news for you both. Can you be big fillies and listen?"

Filly, Derek had heard that word before. It meant... a young female horse, right? One that hadn't yet had children. Maybe it implied some other things, but she couldn't have said what.

Charlie's expression twisted with pain, a pain Derek recognized well by now. The pain of words suppressed, and a reality strangled. An almost supernatural hold on her expression.

The older horse apparently took that for an invitation. "We cannot find either of your families, and we might never be able to. It's not your fault... you're not unwanted. You haven't failed. But you probably won't be able to go back where you came from."

She might as well have reached right into Derek's chest and ripped out her heart. She spluttered, then started sobbing. Her world turned blurry with tears, and she flopped over sideways.

That was apparently enough to trigger her friend, too. Soon Charlie had joined her, as pathetic sounding as Derek felt. But she didn't care.

Chapter 8: Estate Vale

Lovely weather didn't seem like an unkind alien, or pony. But she was also unyielding with her instructions. "Then with everything taken care of, it's time to get you two off with your new families.”

Derek watched, listening to see if Charlie would argue. She did look up, meeting Derek's eyes. "Okay." She took a single step towards Dust Storm.

"But—" Derek extended one hoof towards her, then lowered it again awkwardly a few seconds later. "Will we see each other again?"

"Of course you can," Lovely said. "You're both young. Willowbrook only has the one school. And any other time your parents let you meet."

"She's right, we should get going," Iris said. Her voice was calm, friendly. But as unyielding as the pegasus. "It's a long walk back, and I don't have the carriage with me today. We don't want to be on the road after dark."

Dust Storm nodded once to her, like a servant bowing in supplication to their master. "A pleasure as always, Lady Vale."

Derek watched Charlie as the unicorn led her away. She didn't have to be dragged, though some part of her wanted to fight that hard. She didn't. Just like that, Derek was torn away from her last connection with Earth.

Without her own experience to know otherwise, she might've guessed the eagerness to separate them was malicious, dragging them away from the only other people who could reinforce the truth of their identities. It was a quite natural assumption to make, under the circumstances.

That was why she’d seen so many of his own patients make something similar. Seeing the world as entirely self-focused was a trait restricted to children and immature adults.

Rationally, she could separate her treatment by the therapist from some imagined, intentional slight. That alien didn't even know most of what she felt, because neither her nor Charlie had been able to articulate it.

As her new captor/foster parent guided her away from the little office, she tried and failed to say something a dozen times. But in this she wasn't even certain it was a question of supernatural compulsion. Maybe she was just too afraid to trust a stranger.

She caught one last glimpse of her friend, as they turned in different directions. Charlie and that pegasus apparently had a destination much closer at hand, while the road they were on led straight out of town.

Derek caught Charlie watching her, and waved weakly with one hoof. Her friend waved back, however halfheartedly. So maybe she didn't hate Derek after all. She would still probably blame her for some time to come. Maybe until Derek got them both out of this.

And I still have no clue how I'm supposed to do that. I'm trapped here, Charlie blames me, and she's depending on me to ever get us home again. I'm the only one who can fix this.

Her breathing began to accelerate, her pulse started to race. Derek caught herself, nearly stumbled on the cobblestone road. Enough that her captor turned to look.

"Everything alright, Purple?"

That name certainly didn't help. Purple might be a royal color, but if she had to hear it about herself until she finally escaped, she might just explode. "Fine," she lied, keeping her tone as flat as possible. "Just taking everything in."

"Oh, yes." Iris smiled at her, as though approving of her insight. "Willowbrook is a delightful town, one of the finest settlements this side of the Muzzlesippi. I hope you'll feel at home here as much as I have."

She seemed to be waiting for Derek to say something else. But all she managed was a weak nod. After an awkward silence, the adult turned back to the road.

For the next few minutes, Derek focused on observation. Gathering more information would certainly be a critical part of a successful escape.

Visibly speaking, this world resembled the one she'd left behind. Despite the presence of magic, it didn't seem to be an entirely alien place.

The source of its name was obvious enough—between old and sagging buildings, huge trees grew, many tall enough to tower over the artificial structures. Their branches cascaded down like the weeping willows she remembered from her own world. Too bad she'd never been interested enough in plants to know if they were actually the same species.

The closer our worlds are, the easier it should be to find another Perpendicularity. Her spellbook contained nothing about how to cross universes, and what references in did make to other realms suggested how important it was to avoid attracting notice.

"Those above surge with power, and those below hunger for it. Appear neither too weak, nor too gluttonous, so that neither watch too intently."

Being here naked wouldn’t be so bad, if she'd managed to keep that book.

But she was getting distracted again. She was still here, and she wasn't alone. They were rapidly running out of town.

Apparently Willowbrook was the kind of city that consisted of only a few densely packed blocks, with buildings clustered together so they shared walls in an old-world, medieval style. That also meant the locals had more reason to be around each other, and so they were.

The streets were full of aliens, and almost all of them towered over her just as the trees towered over their homes. They came in no unified colors, and apparently not even the same species. Most were like her—horses, but shaped differently. Some had horns, and fewer still had wings like Charlie's.

Curiously, none seemed terribly interested in her. Their eyes glided over her, noticed Iris, then they backed away, clearing the street ahead of them.

It was the street, as there were no sidewalks. It was cobblestone here, though soon enough the city ended, and it transformed to gravel. "Why am I a different species than you?" Derek asked. "You have..." She lifted her hoof towards her forehead, where the alien's horn protruded.

Iris tilted her head slightly to one side. "Why am I a unicorn? Because my parents were, sweetheart. I'm guessing your parents were earth ponies." But even as she said it, Derek heard no conviction. Iris just said it because she thought it was the thing to say. Or maybe she thought it would convince her.

She giggled in spite of herself. "They were from somewhere else, anyway. They weren't ponies."

They reached the end of Willowbrook, or at least the end of its structures. Out here the buildings gave way to sprawling fields and orchards. The shadows seemed strangely thick in those groves. She could almost imagine them condensing into dark tentacles, dragging her into the gloom and out of sight.

Derek moved a little closer to her companion, bumping into her leg. Then she looked away, ears flattening awkwardly.

"I do apologize for the walk, sweetheart. Normally when we make a trip into town, we take the carriage. But taking it to pick you up the first time seemed in bad taste."

"Is that another word for..." She tried a few words, expression growing increasingly frustrated with each failure. Naming specific technology seemed impossible to her, though she did imagine to say, "horseless carriage?"

"Not in Willowbrook," Iris said, patting her on the back gently. "I don't know where you come from, but this isn't Manehattan. Willowbrook does things the old way. I could cast a come-to-life spell on my carriage. But two of my servants would lose their job. How could they feed their families?"

She didn't continue to argue, despite the temptation. This was another world—everything here probably worked under different rules. She would need to make some effort to understand this world before she could start questioning the way it worked.

Yet one word caught her attention, enough that she risked a little boldness. "When you say 'spell' like that... you mean magic?"

The unicorn nodded. If anything, she seemed a little confused by the question. "How else would you make a carriage move without ponies pulling it? You couldn't fit a steam engine in something so small. And even if you could, it would smell awful."

Steam engine. As though the little brass gas lamps arranged along Willowbrook's high street weren't guide enough, she now had further confirmation. The local technology was evidently very different from Earth. But were those words translated versions of other concepts, or actual steam engines?

She was getting distracted. I'm not here to explore another world. I don't want to be here. Find out how to go home, then cast the spell. That’s all I need to do.

"Do you have any spellbooks at home?" she asked. Maybe she was taking a risk being so forward. But once she started, she barreled ahead. She couldn't exactly make it much worse. "Back home, I was studying magic. I think I did something wrong. Very wrong."

Evidently, she had gone too far, because the unicorn stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to face her on the road, expression intent. There were no others nearby, though the town was close enough that a few horses did turn to watch, obviously interested.

"You have memories of where you came from?"

There was weight behind that question, an implication that she shouldn't for some reason. Though how much the horse wanted her to extract from her words, that was harder to say.

I only get to choose this once. Derek could either tell this horse everything she knew, begging for help openly. Or she could assume the truth would damage her odds, and keep her mouth shut.

"Yes," she said flatly. "Lots. Iris, I am... wrong, here. I am not supposed to be... like this." She gestured vaguely at herself, then pointed at Iris. "I should be taller. Bigger, stronger, older. It was stolen by my mistake."

It should've been vague nonsense. But the horse didn't react that way. She nodded, dropping to one knee and leaning in close. "Purple, listen to me. Everything about where you come from, any details at all—you must never tell anypony but me. Do you understand?"

She spoke with such sincerity that Derek was caught completely off-guard. This was the hidden layer of understanding and information this pony wielded. "Why?"

No hesitation. "Willowbrook is a safe town for you. Most ponies here are loyal by birth or by choice. But we get more and more visitors from Los Pegasus. Soon the rail line will run regular routes up from the city. Ponies who come from there might not be loyal to you like we are."

Loyal to me? She turned the words over in her head, trying to make any sense of what they might mean. She couldn't. "And that's bad?"

"It could be extremely dangerous. If Princess Celestia discovers that you exist, she would destroy you without hesitation, and probably every worshiper you have left. Even if you do not fully understand my instructions, you must obey this command above all others. Your life and ours depends on it."

She didn't look away from Derek, didn't even blink. Somehow, that intensity burned at her, as though Derek were a child again. Eventually she could resist it no longer, and she nodded feebly. "I won't tell. So long as I can still talk to my friend." She tried the name, and as usual it wouldn't come out.

Maybe it wouldn't be that important for her to keep her mouth shut. She wasn't even able to say what she wanted. "Orange and I, we were very close. We came from the same place."

"Her too," Iris eventually said. "Dusty is not a witness of yours, but he has sworn obedience to the sisterhood. He will keep her secret too; you don't need to fear. You will be safe in Willowbrook."

Derek was overflowing with questions now. She wanted to explode, demanding to know who Iris thought she was worshiping, how many others there were, whether they could send her back. So many questions!

But this time, rationality prevailed. If she realizes I'm not what she thinks I am, she'll stop protecting me. She won't be loyal. Maybe Derek could use this to her advantage, if she was careful.

"Thank you for warning me," she said eventually. "I do not understand... this place. I am trying to learn. Maybe you can help me."

Iris relaxed, turning them gently back to the country road and setting off again. There was the occasional house out here, most as run-down as the buildings back in Willowbrook proper.

But one structure was large enough she could see its roof over the hills and fields for over a mile before they approached. As it came into view, she realized it was surrounded by a high metal fence, topped with sharp spikes. It vaguely resembled a southern plantation-style home in their mind, with huge pillars of white marble, several large wings, and various figures moving about behind huge glass windows.

She wasn't lying about servants.

As they approached the gates, a figure in a simple silver vest swung it open ahead of them, lowering his head respectfully to Iris. "Welcome back, mistress."

"Thank you," she said politely. "It's invigorating to stretch my legs now and then." The servant shut the gate behind them, retreating into a little guardhouse. Iris, meanwhile, continued up a paved path towards the manor house.

"Welcome to the Vale estate, Purple. My home as well as yours, so long as you remain in Equestria."

Chapter 9: Ancient Household

Vale manor was the kind of place that Derek should feel lucky to visit. As she passed between the sculpted lawn, her eyes lingered on the old stone of a fountain, the furtive forms of other creatures darting away whenever they thought she was watching them.

The fence didn't just include the little house, it stretched far away from the building. After just a short distance, rows and rows of trees began. Further away, there were fields of gently waving grain, not quite ready to harvest. Where some of the distant farmers had seemed to be struggling, everything in Lady Vale's property overflowed with life.

"I'm afraid my husband is probably not in attendance today," Iris said, drawing Derek's attention back to reality. She'd reached the front doors, and stood in place as more servants shoved and struggled against the thick wood. Derek hurried to stand beside her. "He'll want to meet you when he returns. But don't worry—he knows every relevant detail."

Her eyes narrowed as she said it, a reminder of their conversation on the road. Derek nodded once as her way of acknowledgement, but otherwise said nothing.

They stepped inside, into a vast foyer that smelled of wood-lacquer and old dust. The space was huge—big enough for fifty people to linger beside many side-tables and old chairs. Most were covered in white sheets. The windows were drawn, except for narrow slits letting through just a little light.

The ceiling seemed to rise whole stories over her head. But Derek couldn't be sure that actually meant the house was huge, or if she was just extremely small. Probably both.

"A place is already prepared for you. But perhaps it would be best to give you the complete tour. Are you feeling well enough for a bit more walking?"

A sensible question, given the huge size of the property. Ahead was a vast spiral staircase, and tall doors led away to the left and right, away to other wings of the huge building. "Are there magic books as part of that tour?" she asked, grinning eagerly. Maybe a little less subtle than Lady Vale would've hoped. But this was her household, wasn't it? She had to trust her own servants!

"We do have a library," she said. "When I prepared for your arrival, I didn't anticipate a filly so young would have an academic interest. But there's no reason to keep it from you. We'll certainly visit the library along the way. You’ll find the family collection one of the finest in Willowbrook. There are items in my family's care that even the Royal Canterlot Archives would envy."

The tour was not a fast process, which she could've guessed given the huge size of the property. The house was the kind of place she'd never even dreamed of living, a property that was a little like its own small town. It had multiple kitchens, ballrooms, workshops of every kind, several wings to hold important guests and their own servants and staff. The outdoors had even more interesting things to do—sports arenas for local games that she'd never heard of, several different swimming pools, walking trails through their lands.

"But for the time being, it would be far better if you kept as close to the manor as you can," Iris said. "In time, it will all be your domain. But for now, the holdings of my house are large enough that you could get easily lost."

They passed another few balconies, a long gallery of stern-looking pony portraits, before finally coming to the library. Mercifully, that word meant the same thing here it would've in the world she left behind. A huge square room, with an upper balcony and several levels of stacked shelves. A rolling ladder-cart ran along the outside, with steps that she would probably have to jump to reach.

"As with any of our rooms, just ring the bell if you require service," Iris said. She pulled down on a long velvet rope hanging near the door, and a bell sounded, echoing through the strange halls.

There was a few seconds of eerie silence, then came a set of pounding footfalls. Or probably hooffalls, that was the proper term.

A section of wall just ahead of her opened, and a little pony appeared from within. Like all the others, he wore a green vest in the same colors of the house symbols that filled the building. But where many of the others seemed nervous, never looking at Iris, this pony actually managed a faint grin.

At least until he saw her watching. He bowed once to the unicorn, then without a word darted through the room ahead of them. He produced a little metal rod from tucked within his uniform, and lifted it towards the lights one at a time.

For a second Derek stared, utterly transfixed by the process. How could this pony be moving something without touching it?

Then she saw something else, something that was harder to see at such a distance. It was a horn, just like the one that Iris had. Shorter and stubbier by a considerable margin, but it was still apparently long enough to make something move.

Then fire blossomed under the shade, and the light came on. The pony barely reacted, hurrying away from it to move around the room to others one at a time. Soon the gloomy library was lit with a steady orange glow, flickering only slightly.

"By your leave, Lady," he said. His voice wasn't much older than her own. How could a child that age be allowed to work?

She nodded. "Thank you, Little Risk."

Just like that, he left, vanishing back through the opening in the wall. The door creaked closed behind him, then sealed so she almost couldn't tell where the opening was hidden. Almost.

Iris walked past her, then turned towards the door. Now it was her turn to make her forehead glow, with a subtle light that she almost couldn't see with the competition of gas lamps in the room around her. The door clicked closed, and suddenly the two of them were alone.

"I hope you'll find this library to your liking. It really is one of my family's finest possessions. Shepherding the knowledge here has been the work of many generations."

Moments ago, she'd been frothing with the anticipation of all this knowledge. Now the words caught on her tongue. "The kid, he had a horn too," she said. "And he was starting fires."

"Yes," Iris said. Her voice was patient, though a little strained. "Young Risk is from a family of unicorns. His father is the steward of my house, keeper of our books and possessions."

She dropped to one knee again. "It is your right to act however you wish. But I would consider it a great personal favor if you treat my household with respect and dignity. My servants will be loyal to you during your time here. My family maintains its power through the quality of our ponies. They could go elsewhere, but they do not, because we care for them. That respect is returned a thousandfold in their loyalty."

What the hell did I get myself into? Derek nodded in response. "Of course. Respect is..." She took a step back. "I feel like I'm missing information. Maybe a little time in the library could help me... figure things out?"

She glanced down the shelves in either direction. But there were no section headers, not like a public library. There did seem to be clear divisions, with many shelves that weren't yet full between them. But how could she find what she was looking for?

"You'll probably want history," the mare said, hurrying past her. "Maybe we should start with the Lunar Rebellion? Modern Equestria can basically be extrapolated from that point, with the addition of a few more related facts. Unless there's something else you'd rather consider first."

But she didn't even wait for Derek to answer. She darted past her down the shelves, and somehow several books seemed to follow along behind her. It must've worked the same way as the door and the little pony with his magical fire-lighter, a trail of objects that somehow obeyed Iris's will.

She returned a few moments later, skidding to a stop just before a large recliner. A huge fireplace was in front of it, though there was no flame inside. She settled the sack of books on an end-table, then thrust the topmost volume towards Derek. "This contains the quickest summary of events. Harmony: The Curative of the Soul. Apparently the author was a personal friend of Starswirl himself. She's considered a historical authority on the true story of Hearth’s Warming.”

All that probably should've meant something to her, though of course it didn't. Derek backed nervously away from the book, which Iris seemed determined to smack her with. But then it thumped to the ground directly in front of her, standing almost as high as her knees. How small was she, anyway?

Derek stared down at the cover. It was an old-style tome, with a thick cover and yellowing paper within. The title was printed in simple block letters, along with a block-stamped illustration of an interlocking sun and moon glyph beneath it. This was probably everything she needed to get a historical overview of the world she'd been banished to. A perfect tool. There was just one problem.

The text was gibberish. Derek whimpered, reaching down with one hoof and pushing the book open. It took a little concentration, even pushing the cover aside with a hoof took focus. She surged with frustration, amplified by the rustling of the dress behind her.

A few pages blurred past before the book settled into an open position on the ground at her hooves. The block letters within were distinct, easy to read.

They don't write the same language. The thought hadn't even occurred to her, and why should it? She'd been talking to them since she arrived, without apparent difficulty. Her eyes began to water, and she nearly fell over sideways. She sniffed, fighting back the tears. "Uh... what... what language is this?"

Iris blinked. Was she getting used to being completely confused? "The... one we're speaking? Ponish."

Derek sniffed, flipping through a few more pages. The layout on these old books was dense and academic, with perfectly spaced blocks of thick text. Or at least, she assumed it was text. She leaned in close, concentrating on a single line, trying to sound it out.

Her head started to pound, and she dropped to the ground in front of the book. Her head thumped onto the old pages, smelling exactly like she remembered. Just like her spellbook did, in fact.

Was she crying again? Pull yourself together, stupid. There's someone watching you. She thinks you're a ruler or something. You can't let her see the truth.

The rationality of it didn't matter. She cried, probably smearing the old ink on those yellow pages.

She wasn't sure how long she did that, before a voice spoke from just above her. A stranger's voice, though she'd been with this pony for the last several hours. "Is something wrong?" Iris asked. "Something about that first page? I would've thought you would be pleased... what happened to Luna... isn't that justice? Or are you—"

But she didn't hear whatever else Derek was supposed to feel, because the mare trailed off. Something moved along her back. A surprisingly gentle touch, from the horse standing over her. It should probably horrify her, but it didn't. "What's wrong?"

Derek tried to answer. She had always been a quiet crier, but that didn't mean it was easy to just make the pain stop. She took several deep breaths, struggling through the words. "I can't read it," she said. "I'm trying to remember... how to read anything. I can't." She gestured vaguely with her hooves, trying to trace the letters she'd learned her whole life.

Forget advanced degrees, forget practice certification and approval boards. She couldn't draw even a single letter.

Maybe this was the same language she'd always written. It didn't matter, because Derek didn't know how to read.

Chapter 10: Children of Worlds

The strange horse carried Derek from the room, the way she might carry a child. That was just as well—apparently that was all she had become. She couldn't read, couldn't describe her home, couldn't even say her own name. Maybe the rest of her memories were lies too.

The warmth and motion was enough that she stopped crying, eventually. Her legs stretched out along the pony's back, and she let the rocking soothe her. Not to sleep, though it might've done if they went much further.

It was only minutes until they reached another door, and the mare opened it. She didn't wait for servants this time, but instead twisted the knob along the wall. More oil lamps flared to life overhead, where previously they'd only been a dull glow. Was that even safe?

She found she didn't care just now. Old-timey houses couldn't have been that dangerous, or everyone in the past would've died. It only made sense.

"I can't imagine the stress you must be going through," Iris said. Suddenly Derek was lifting through the air, with forces bearing her up from all sides. The power was irresistible, but also only lasted for a second. It settled her gently on the floor in the center of the room. "Understand that my family are all faithful servants. Anything we can do to help you, we will."

I understand the words. But nothing else. She forced herself to nod anyway. She had to keep her head up. Derek wasn't a kid!

It would be hard to convince anyone of that, given a room like this.

The bedroom was easily as large as some apartments she had lived in, with an attached bathroom door already open to one side. Its walls were all the pink and purple of sunset, with stars and little flying animals painted on the ceiling. A four-poster bed was tucked against one wall, with fluffy pink blankets and steps beside it that would let even someone as small as Derek actually reach.

Everything else she might've expected from a period child's bedroom was here. Huge wardrobe, stacked toyboxes, little bookshelf of thick, squat volumes. She couldn't read the text on their spines, any more than she'd been able to read the text inside the library.

She caught herself hyperventilating, then looked away, back at Iris.

The mare nodded once to her, gesturing around. "I hope you can make yourself at home here. I was always hoping somepony would come to live here, eventually. Can you think of anything you need?"

She twitched, glancing nervously at the dress on her shoulders. It wasn't just the plain brown fabric—it hardly matched the elegance of this fine home. But Iris wasn't wearing anything. Charlie had been right about clothes, not her. "Can you help me get this off?"

"Certainly." The mare didn't give it a second's thought, didn't delay awkwardly while she made up her mind. Derek felt a wisp of pressure against her back, a little like the one that lifted her off Iris. Then the dress slid to the ground around her, off her back and shoulders. She blushed, tucking her tail firmly between her legs. But that was mostly a reflex at this point.

"It wouldn't be safe to give you the vestments you deserve," she said, walking past her to the wardrobe. The doors opened of their own accord, and she gestured inside. There were tons of outfits hanging within, along with a standing-sized mirror attached to one of the walls.

The array of different colors and fabrics was almost enough to make her forget what had her so upset. Derek hurried over, then realized she was getting excited about dresses and stopped in place, a short distance from the open cabinet.

"Something like this might suit you, for the moment." Iris reached in, and something flew out from an open drawer inside. A bright bow, one in yellow to contrast with her mane. The fabric glittered like silk, and a few little white stones were set into the base. Were those diamonds? "This should help the servants realize who you are, even if they haven't been introduced yet. I'm sorry it's such an ill substitute for a crown. But it should work decently well at keeping that mane tied up."

Derek sat in place, silent as Iris worked it into her mane. After a few minutes of care, she finished by tying it up in a simple bun, with the bow to anchor everything together. "How's that?"

She tilted her head to either side, and no longer found the strands smacking up against her neck. She smiled weakly. "Better. Is this really all I need to wear?"

Iris titled her head slightly to the side. "Unless there's some occasion requiring otherwise," she said. "Perhaps there will be, when my husband arrives. But that could be weeks."

Weeks. Could she be trapped here that long? They’d think she was dead; they'd close her practice... everything would be ruined!

She took a deep breath, as slowly and deliberately as she could. Her whole body was still shaking, on the verge of crying all over again. She took every motion carefully. "Do you think I'm going to be here that long?"

That was an innocent enough way to ask, right? She wasn't revealing her real intentions. Or anything about herself, for that matter.

Iris's expression was unreadable then. She straightened, then separated from Derek. "I don't know how quickly my sisters will move, Purple. But isn't this where you wanted to be?"

She froze, mouth twitching. The way she asked, obviously the answer was supposed to be yes. But if she lied now, Iris might not help her later. "I... I don't remember," she lied.

"Maybe you will." The mare retreated another few steps. "The servants will bring you evening meal in a few hours. I'm afraid I have other engagements that call me away. But we will speak again tomorrow afternoon."

Her friend's car was still sitting in the parking lot of a national park somewhere. She wondered if it had been booted by now, or maybe it was already towed. How long would it sit there before people started telling stories about them?

Maybe I'll be a cautionary tale in the next version of that spellbook. I hope whoever finds it doesn't try to cast anything.

Before she could say another word, Iris backed away through the opening. She didn't look away, not even as the door shut behind her. Like she was leaving the throne room of a king.

Derek listened for the sound of a lock, but it didn't come. At least she wasn't being treated like a prisoner. Yet.

She circled slowly through the huge bedroom, taking in every detail. Any second now she should wake up, right? She'd be back in the real world, soaking wet beside a little waterfall in the middle of nowhere.

Charlie would ask if she'd shared the same hallucination about becoming a little horse, and she'd deny it. She'd throw the spellbook and all of her supplies into the water, or maybe burn them in dramatic fashion. And she'd never touch any of it again.

She stopped in the center, closing her eyes, and waiting for the dramatic transition. It didn't come. After a minute of standing there alone in the room, she finally opened her eyes. She was still on all fours, standing on a fine carpet in a huge room—and she was still a little horse.

She made it over to the bed, sticking her face as deep into the pillows as she could. "I'm not supposed to be this way!" she screamed. "I'm not a pony! I'm not a girl!"

She kicked and thrashed, turning the perfectly made little bed into a tangled mess of threads and pillows, barely even recognizable as a bed.

She was too weak to actually break anything. She could probably smash her head into the wall a few times if she wanted. But Derek resisted that urge. She was old enough to take her time with some healthy coping strategies.

After a while—she wasn't exactly sure how long—a pair of distant hoofsteps interrupted her isolation. Like it had in the library, the noise came from nowhere in particular, right through the wall.

There's another hidden door. She straightened hastily, sitting up in bed. There would be no concealing the mess she'd just made, but at least she could make herself a little more dignified. She reached up, straightening her mane with one hoof. Did horses even care about how she looked?

A second later, the wall opened, and a familiar figure stood in the doorway. A silver tray levitated in the air beside him. But he took one look at her in bed, and she could've sworn the little tray drooped on one end for a moment. Not enough to spill the glass of liquid atop it.

"I'm sorry!" he squealed, backing up a step from the doorway. "I didn't mean to wake you!"

Derek rolled her eyes, before flopping out of bed. She caught herself beside it, looking over at him. "I wasn't sleeping. I was having a tantrum."

"You were... what?" Little Risk froze in the doorway, before scurrying into the room. He ignored her this time, making his way over to the far wall, and the oversized table tucked there. He settled the tray, lifting its cover with another manifestation of impossible power.

There could be no doubt in Derek's mind that she’d found the source-world of magic here. Magic was so abundant that the aliens living here could use it as a substitute for hands!

"Your meal delivered," he said, nodding once to her. Unlike the deep bow he'd given to Iris, he barely even inclined his head for an instant before straightening up. He doesn't believe whatever Iris does about me, or maybe he doesn't even know.

That didn't exactly make him the perfect source of information, he still might report her questions back to Iris or someone else. But it also meant he might not know what he wasn't supposed to tell her.

“Can you answer some questions for me?" she asked.

He hesitated, glancing at the open hallway door. It led into the shadows, barely lit. There were no oil lamps beyond, or God-forbid electricity. Did he have a hidden flashlight somewhere? Or maybe he used more of that magic stuff to try and see things.

"Of course, miss..." He twitched. "What’s your name? Lady Vale didn’t say."

She tried to answer simply, by reflex. She was soon reminded of the things she wasn't allowed to say, coughing and choking painfully as the headache nearly toppled her over.

No, that wasn't a headache—that was a dagger shoved right into the back of her head, pressing until she gave up. This can't be natural. Something is trying to keep me from thinking things about Earth. Why?

"I don't have a name yet," she eventually said. It was easier to tell the truth to someone her own age, or at least it felt like he was. He wasn't much taller than she was.

He dropped the metal cover onto the table beside him, mouth hanging open. "You don’t have a name? Come on, you don't have to lie! That can't be true!"

Since when did she care what little children thought of her? Yet Derek's ears flattened, her tail tucked firmly between her legs. She sniffed, and almost started crying again. But her defiance was too strong. She wouldn't give up the last of her dignity.

"Iris just called me 'purple'. But I don't think we'll keep it. I need something real. Something that sounds like..." She shuddered again, and this time didn't even get close to the forbidden territory.

The pain was so intense that she avoided it instinctively. Pavlovian conditioning took so little time. Even if there was a magical gun to her head, they wouldn't have to keep it there for long. Just enough to break her sanity.

"My old name. The one I... forgot."

"Well that's sad," he said. "What made that happen?"

Chapter 11: Pomegranate Seeds

She had the attention of this little pony. Derek didn't know how long she could keep it. Just how old were they, in equivalent human years?

His voice didn't sound young to her, any more than he looked short. She was taller, but not by very much. Less than an inch. "How can I do what you're doing?" she asked, pointing to where he'd dropped the meal tray.

Risk didn't react for several seconds. He lifted the tray hastily from the floor, glancing nervously between it and the meal set out before her. She'd barely even given that thing any attention. Maybe she should?

The table had room for four—she could host guests here, if she wanted. The chairs didn't look as much like Earth furniture as the bed—they were really just cushions, suspended high above the ground. Their backs were empty wire, with huge openings behind them. They wouldn't actually do her any good giving support, then.

"Delivering food?" he asked, taking another nervous step away from her, and towards the open servants' tunnel. "There really isn't that much to learn, honest. You just need to know where the rooms are. I guess I am pretty good at remembering them all. My dad says I'll be a great steward when I'm older."

He puffed up his chest a little as he said it. That was no idle compliment as far as Risk was concerned. He really cared about his generational position in service to the Vale family.

Assuming he even understood it that well. "I don't mean bringing people food. I worked food service when—" and in that direction there were dragons. Her whole body started to tense with pain at the mere suggestion of exploring it. "You're making things fly. My dinner, that bowl. How do I do that?"

Even as she asked, the smell of what he'd brought finally reached her nose. This wasn't a bowl of slop. Finally she even turned to see what he'd brought.

A fresh salad, or something like one, with a light dressing and lots of fresh fruit and veggies mixed in. It came with two glasses—one tiny red one, and a much larger pitcher of water. There were grains too, a bowl of thumb-sized berries with little shells of thin brown fiber. The appearance was entirely unrecognizable, but the smell was perfectly familiar.

Barley. Whoever had prepared this bothered to wash the grains before serving them to her as though she was supposed to think they were a meal. A feast fit for a farm animal, no mistake.

No bile came rising to her throat. Instead, the smell reminded her of something that should've been obvious. She was hungry. More dried food from the little building she'd been trapped in with Charlie could never compete with this.

Risk was still staring at her, looking more confused than any of her questions had yet made him. "I don't know, uh... I'm not... I don't know what that means."

"You're doing it right now!" She scurried over, turning her back on the fine meal only reluctantly. She poked at the tray lid, and it tumbled right out of the air, clattering at her hooves. "That thing!"

"Levitation?" He glanced to her forehead, then back again. "You're an earth pony."

"I... what?" She kept pace with him, following him as he backed partway into the tunnel. That caused him to stop in place, as though horrified that she would dare step onto that sacred ground. "You have a name for that? A pony from—"

She dropped to one knee, crying out with pain. The word was there, drowned in her screaming. Her eyes clouded with water, and she took almost a full minute to recover.

"Earth pony," she said. Nothing. Not a hint of pain. "Is called that because they are a pony from—" Nope. There it was again.

Who made these stupid rules?

"You're weird, Purple," he said. "Do you know the difference between ponies?"

"No," she said weakly, stumbling to her hooves again. "I don't know much of anything. I barely, uh... I barely remember anything. Not even my own name, remember?"

"Right." He nodded knowingly, closing the distance between them. He helped her to her hooves, then held still to give her something to lean on. He wasn't exactly much bigger or stronger than she was, but even so. It was nice not to be alone since Charlie was gone.

"Listen to me. There are three real tribes of ponies, then all the little cousins and other spawn nopony talks about. I'm one—like house Vale, and my family. Unicorns. We do magic."

He guided her gently back into the room, and she was still so pained and disoriented that she followed, stumbling along beside him until she'd reached the chair. She climbed up into it, following the strange scent that was also delicious.

"Then there are pegasus ponies. They have wings, and they can fly. They make the weather that other ponies depend on."

She glanced backward at her sides, ears flattening again. "I don't have wings. I'm not one of those either."

He nodded sharply, annoyed. Apparently she wasn't supposed to interrupt. "Lastly are the earth ponies, like you. You don't cast spells, and you can't do the weather. But you're strongest. And you can... grow things? Most earth ponies farm. I guess it's fun for them. I've never tried farming. Seems like hard work."

"Neither have I." She slumped forward onto the table, head landing right next to the meal tray. "So what you're telling me is... I can't even do magic. Friend and I come all the way here, and I don't have the tools to fix my mistake? I'm just supposed to grow things?"

She wasn't still looking at him, so she couldn't see how he would respond. He did answer, eventually. "I, uh... don't know that one. Lady Vale says you're a distant relative. You must come from a far, faraway part of her family, I guess?"

If you were older, you'd probably think I was a bastard. But you're too innocent for that. At least she still remembered what words meant. Just because she'd lost most of her confidence didn't mean she'd lost everything. Derek would still get through this.

The smell of her meal was too much to ignore, and finally she sat up. There were utensils here, as she'd seen played out in fancy restaurants. Several forks, different knives—she didn't know how to use them, or much care right now. Maybe later she could worry about making herself a little less barbaric.

She chewed eagerly, reveling in something both familiar and different. She'd enjoyed plenty of salads before, even some quite nice ones. But she'd never had barley quite like this, separated and washed into grains right out of a bowl.

She was so invested in her meal she almost didn't notice as Little Risk retreated back the way he'd come. He was most of the way through pulling the door closed behind him before she raised one hoof in his general direction. "Wait!"

He stopped, expression annoyed. "What is it now?"

"Are you sure about all that?" she asked. She leaned a little closer to him. But the chairs weren't meant for that, despite their similarity to Earth furniture. It wobbled on its legs, then toppled backward, taking her with it.

Derek screamed, her voice a shrill squeak as she fell painfully to the floor with a thump.

The shock was loud enough that she kept screaming for a few seconds later, long enough for him to rush over. But by the time he reached her, she realized that it didn't actually hurt. She shook herself free of the chair, climbing off. It wasn't damaged either.

"Are you crazy?"he asked, exasperated.

It was like he'd flipped a switch in her. "Technically? Yes. I have no idea what the DSM-5 would say about me. I'm showing signs of neuroticism, clinical anxiety, depression, gender dysphoria, and that’s all assuming the things I think I'm seeing are real!"

She leapt to her hooves, circling nervously around him. "Maybe this whole place is a hallucination! Maybe I drowned and this is hell! Maybe I'm in an institution right now, with doctors watching behind mirrored glass! But whatever happened to me damaged my brain so thoroughly that I can't even see their lab coats."

She stopped beside the window, flinging open the blinds. It was mostly too high for her to see through, requiring her to lean up and squint to get any glimpse outside.

There was little light outside. The grounds had only a single gaslamp, lighting the path into the house. The attached stables were mostly in shadow, though even that was enough to see what had changed.

The large carriage she'd seen parked beside it when they arrived was missing. Hadn't Iris said she preferred to travel that way? I wonder where she went.

Something clicked behind her. By the time she turned around, the door was fully shut, and Little Risk was gone, leaving the wall practically sealed. Derek winced, stomping her way back to the door.

She almost started screaming through it, demanding that Risk come back. But about halfway there, she realized how stupid that would be, and came to a stop.

What was she thinking? The kid had answered all her questions thoughtfully, it was her fault for not knowing what to ask.

She stumbled back to the window, under the light of flickering gaslamp. Maybe she'd finish eating in a few minutes, once she'd had the chance to catch her breath. But just now, her appetite was gone.

What would I tell one of my patients? she wondered, hopping up onto a padded bench beside the window, and looking out at the grounds.

The answer was obvious. She should focus on the things she could control, be grateful for the things she liked. She should try to find a healthy coping mechanism, one that would help her avoid the things she couldn't think about.

But I don't think anything in the DSM was written for someone with a magical gun to their head.

Things could be worse. She could've been killed. Or maybe something terrible could've happened to Charlie—something terrible that couldn't be reversed. She could've gone blind, she could’ve been stuck into prison, or with someone who wanted to do terrible things to her.

If anything, Iris Vale was a pony who would be too kind to her. There'd be no need to fear abuse here. If it was possible to get back, she would find the resources in this house somewhere. Or maybe she would cajole them out of the unicorn, and whatever group she represented.

I can't waste time worrying about things I can't control. Right now our life back home is out of reach. I can't help Charlie while I'm here, so I'll have to trust that she can handle herself. She's stronger than I am.

The best thing I can do for both of us is find the fastest possible way back.

To do that, she'd have to stay sane, and not be rejected by Iris. She could manage that, couldn't she?

Derek curled up atop the cushions, staring out into a world she didn't understand. Far away, past the fields of grain and the road leading back to Willowbrook, was a scraggly forest of tangled oak and ash trees.

Her eyes lost focus as she stared between them. Shapes moved in that distance, maybe animals, maybe not. Faint lights shone in the darkness too, like pale lanterns of starlight that vanished as soon as she looked in their direction.

It was the same kind of unsettled she'd felt when she first walked here, past the farmers' fields. What had Iris said about not wanting to be caught after dark?

Derek flopped abruptly off the seat, practically galloping over to the swinging blinds. She shoved them into place so hard that wood splintered, and paint chipped. But they stayed, concealing her from the eyes that watched from darkness.

I'm not scared of the dark. Just getting ready for bed, that's all.

Given everything she'd been through, she'd permit herself a few white lies.

Chapter 12: Strange Towers

Charlie remembered what it was like to be young.

His family hadn't exactly been a stable thing. His dad always wanted to give him the best, but wanting that and actually being able to deliver it were two different things. He never knew his mother, and the same woman never remained in his life long enough to start thinking of anyone in that role.

It was probably only right that she should be facing that same thing now, beyond the threshold of impossibility in a world that didn't make sense.

She probably could've lived with some strange new things. Derek could've brought them to a magical land of adventure and danger, and she would probably adapt to it quickly enough. Maybe even forgive her friend, since of course it would never be her fault.

But strangeness in the world outside would always be infinitely easier to cope with than the ones that threatened and stole her own facilities. Derek's mistake hadn't just stolen his life, his girlfriend, or his future. Derek had stolen Charlie's self.

She stumbled along behind a stranger, a towering male with wings that were individually wider and longer than her entire body. She followed along in a city with doorknobs that were out of reach, walking on all fours and feeling as though she were parading naked through the streets.

Well in that last case, it wasn't just a feeling. Charlie was naked. But if she wasn't going to have the clothes she wanted, she didn't exactly see the point of trying at all. This place could keep her hostage, it could pretend she was young and small and weak. But it wouldn't have her obedience.

"I think you'll like where we live," said the horse ahead of her. Charlie hurried to catch up, and nearly fell over on the uneven cobblestone.

When she started to wobble, wings extended from both sides. It was both an entirely familiar sensation, like stretching out her arms... and also utterly foreign to her. Feathers were not hair. Each one was alive somehow, with its own array of rich sensors. She could feel with each and every one, from the little tufts of down near her torso, to the long, thick feathers near her wingtips.

However different it was, extending both wings had a similar effect to opening her arms to keep her balance. She didn't fall over. Not that she would have, walking ahead on four legs.

All that, and Dust Storm barely seemed to notice anything was off about her. Maybe it was normal for things her size to barely know how to move.

"We live downtown, right in the middle of Willowbrook. There's lots of interesting ponies about, lots of parties and festivals and parades, and we're near all of them! Not to mention... well, you'll see. A little pegasus should love it."

Pegasus. That word was somehow meant to mean her,not an untamable Greek horse. It must've been satisfying to buck Bellerophon off her shoulders, rather than carrying him all the way into Olympus, to walk where no mortal should go.

She'd settle for kicking a few barrels though, if they happened to be nearby.

There were plenty, in dozens of shops along the road. Willowbrook was a city of roadside vendors in all shapes and sizes. Some sheltered under fabric canopies, with colorful banners behind them and detailed displays of their goods.

Others had old wooden tables, and simply shouted at Dusty as they went past.

He ignored all of them, until they reached a nearby building. It towered above all those around it. This was no elegant skyscraper of metal and glass, though—this structure was an engineer's nightmare.

It was half a dozen floors, but no two were the same size. It was more like sections of different building had been glued together. Or, more likely, it had been unevenly expanded by different owners over many years, until what was left resembled nothing any sane person should live in.

Dust Storm bent down beside her, pointing up with a wing. "See that balcony, all the way up there?"

She followed his gesture. Her eyes were surprisingly sharp, even at that distance. She could even make out the flaking white paint on the brass railing, and the still-open door leading inside.

"That's ours up there, Orange. Perfect place for a quick trip up or down from the street." He hesitated then, glancing backward at her wings. "Didn't Lovely Weather say you have trouble flying?"

She nodded weakly. "You could say that. I've never flown in my life. Never even thought I could. I'd have a hard time—" But the words wouldn't come. As soon as she felt the pressure against her head, she pulled away. It was like touching one fingertip against a hot doorknob—better just to back away and try somewhere else.

He tilted his head slightly to one side, staring. After a few seconds, she said nothing, and he eventually just shrugged. "Unfortunately, this isn't one of those fancy buildings back east. We don't have an elevator, thaumic or otherwise. That means you'll have to climb until you learn to fly."

You say, as though I were stuck here. She almost told him that, but caught herself short. She would be making a break for it soon, as soon as she knew where to run to. Maybe she should keep her mouth shut with things that could make him suspicious.

So she followed him silently to the front door. There was no lock, so they could walk straight in. Past two apartment doors was the staircase leading up, every bit as crooked and unsteady as the rest of the building.

"You go ahead and start climbing," Dust Storm said. "I'll see you at the top." He settled onto his haunches then, which was awkward enough in its own way that she instantly looked away.

But he didn’t seem to understand that instinct either. How hard was it to realize they needed to wear clothes?

He's serious, Charlie realized. He's not going to climb up with me. Learning to fly must be important to him.

She started up the stairs without complaint, at least not out loud. Inwardly she fumed. It wasn't right for him to demand that she do things he wouldn't do! Maybe she should turn back down the stairs and run as far away as she could.

Charlie wasn't afraid, she would've run. Except for one inconvenient truth: she didn't know anywhere to go.

So instead of running, she just set to her hike. There were no lights inside, just narrow windows, letting in just enough of a glow that she didn't trip on herself. This would be hella creepy in the dark.

And as soon as Dust Storm knows I feel that way, he'll probably make me climb it in the dark too. She sped up, practically tripping over herself as she went faster and faster. Of course, that wouldn't help her get away. Dust Storm would be at the top.

Charlie climbed for ages, until she came to a landing, and another little balcony extended out an open doorway. There were more steps, so she knew she couldn't be done just yet. But the balcony called to her.

She stepped out, and immediately the wind blasted up against her. Even a few stories up was enough that the breeze ruffled her feathers, carrying with it the scent of oak and distant forest. She was up high enough that she could see some of it too. Despite the fields leading away from the city to the north, the south was still thoroughly forested. Untamed, even. Ominous.

She propped her forelegs up against the railing, closing her eyes and spreading her wings. That last happened without any real intention—they just moved, as though she were going to take off and start flying.

She didn't, of course. But she could almost imagine it. That breeze made her feathers move on their own, and it felt good. Flying isn't so bad. There's plenty of shit to hate about this place, but it won't be this. Oh no, I have an amazing superpower! Whatever will I do?

Maybe she was wasting her time, and Derek would have them back to reality before she had a chance to do anything with her new powers.

Or maybe not. Maybe the same friend that got her banished here would have no magic bullet to get her home, and she would need to settle in.

If I wasn't so little, maybe I could live with this. If they send me back to school I'm going to strangle someone.

Then again, he hadn't done so well in school the first time. It was Derek who really lost something in that exchange. Maybe she'd do better the second time around.

Shut that thought right there. She settled down off the railing, closing her wings reluctantly. Funny how unsteadily they moved one moment, twitching and jerking when she tried to do anything with them.

But if she just let them do what they wanted, it was effortless. Just like that stupid tail. She focused on that too, swishing it back and forth. It was a bit like learning to fold her tongue—not terribly precise, or pleasant to focus on. But if she was banished here for long enough, she'd probably get it.

Finally she took another look up the building. A set of wings spread from the edge of the balcony there—Dust Storm had already flown to the top, waiting for her. She still had some climbing to do.

A few minutes later she finally clambered over the last uneven step, sweating profusely and panting up a storm. Her wings dragged along the ground behind her, but there was a stupid grin plastered on her face anyway. She'd made it.

"Good to see you again, Orange," said Dust Storm. He waited by one of the doors, as though he'd been standing there without a single backward glance for the last half hour. Maybe he had been. "How was the trip up?"

"Is that a... joke?" she finally managed, glowering at him. "That was horrible. No wonder nobody else wants to live up here."

He chuckled, nudging the door open. "They're missing out. It's one of the best places to live in Willowbrook. And not just because it's close to the clouds."

Curiously, this door wasn't like so many of the others. It had not one lock but two, set into a door of metal instead of wood like all the others. He produced a keyring from around his neck, and took the key in his mouth to do the actual opening.

It clicked loudly, echoing through the metal. The door began to slide slowly open—apparently the upper lock hadn't been set.

The interior was... better than she'd expected. A fairly spacious apartment, probably sprawling over the entire top floor instead of just one side. But that made sense, seeing as theirs was the only door up here. Past the unusually secure entrance was a living area of mixed floors and walls, as though it had been built with whatever scrap happened to be at hand.

The furniture was... numerous. Couches, chairs, tables—all arranged without much rhyme or reason. There were paintings too, but these were tilted, or clashing with everything around them.

All Dust Storm needed were some empty beer bottles and posters duct-taped to the wall, and she'd be confident in her discovery of the eternal bachelor.

"I hope you like it!" he said, actually grinning at her. He expected her to be impressed. "I've been collecting all this stuff, and this was one of the few places in Willowbrook with enough room for all of it. Don't worry, I've prepared somewhere for you.”

Her nose twitched as they passed through the overcrowded apartment. In some cases, she needed to climb over things, or at least squeeze over.

You couldn't have known I wouldn't know how to fly, right? This can't be another training course. Even if she could learn, animals like her couldn't be good flying in close quarters. She wasn't a hummingbird.

Maybe he's a hoarder?

Except Dust Storm didn't actually explain any of what they passed. He didn't have any stories for her, didn't volunteer why he'd stacked five different kitchen chairs in front of an empty bookshelf instead of a table.

Instead, his eyes were on her, like he was a space alien trying to impress her with his collection of wooden objects.

Space alien or not, he seemed to recognize that something was wrong. "Is it not enough? Whatever I need to acquire to make this a home good for a young pegasus, I will. Tell me what's missing."

Those eyes. He focused on her like a spotlight, so intense that her resolve melted.

She sighed. "C-can I just see my room?" She wasn't really expecting it to be any better. And in that, she wasn't disappointed.

Chapter 13: You Wouldn't Believe

What should Charlie expect a child's bedroom to look like in another universe? The question was something so absurd she never should've cared about the answer, except... now it was her life. Stepping into hers, it was clear Dust Storm hadn't involved an interior designer. Rather, it raised some doubts in her mind over whether or not he'd ever seen a child before.

The room had very little floor space, but instead had three separate beds. One rested near the high ceiling, suspended on cinder blocks that placed it above the door leading in. An old metal four-poster had lost two of its legs, but Dust Storm had apparently repurposed it into a desk of sorts, using a few chairs and cushions to hold it up.

Then there was a third bed, turned completely on its side, with the drawers underneath that might've held clothing or other personal possessions poking up vertically.

The room might've been a nice place to live, otherwise. It had two large windows, one beside where she could probably fit a bed. It had its own restroom attached, so she wouldn't have to wander through the furniture graveyard outside to use the facilities in the middle of the night. It didn't have electric lights, but there were metal chandeliers hanging from the towering ceiling. Gas lights?

"I got as many objects as I thought a foal would need," he said, lingering in the doorway. "You seem... unsatisfied. Is it not enough?"

"Not enough?" She finally turned, wings hanging limply out beside her. "Dust Storm, it's... more than enough. There's so much I don't even know..." Interior design wasn't exactly a discipline Charlie had ever considered herself particularly skilled in. But compared to this, she could probably start consulting for TLC.

"The room has everything it needs, but..." She sighed. "Do you live like this?"

"My room is too dirty right now," he snapped, before she'd even taken a breath. "It's fine. Don't worry about me. I just want you to feel comfortable here."

Too dirty? Charlie's eyebrows went up. Yes, this place was full of stuff, but there was no trash here. She saw no rats, no insects infesting the dark corners. It didn't smell like a hoarder lived here. It smelled like a furniture store, all wood and polish and leather.

"Okay. If I make suggestions for how to move things..." She looked down at her hooves. "I should just do it. But I don't know how to pick up this stuff. It must weigh a ton."

"Don't worry about it," Dust Storm said. "Orange, I do want you to be comfortable here, and having a space to call your own is how that starts. Tell me what should change."

"Okay, uh..." She walked through the room in a slow circle, taking everything in. What kind of room would her little niece want to live in? The pink bed with the drawers was the nicest. She'd want the mirrors and the portraits of ponies. She'd want somewhere to sit to do her makeup, even if she didn't really need or understand makeup yet.

"It's just for me?" she asked. "There aren't any other little kids living here?"

"Just you," the pegasus confirmed. "I didn't know if I would be adopting a little filly or a colt, so I tried to have enough for either one."

"Yeah, I can see that..." Interesting that some of the traditional masculine and feminine tropes carried between worlds. There were no cars or vehicles, though blue and pink were both themes.

"Alright. How about... just that bed there. I would move it up against the wall, so I can look out the window if I want. Then that desk laying on its side... stand it up on those legs, and put it by that big mirror, with one chair. The bookshelf can stay too, and that empty wardrobe that's holding... are those pots and pans?"

"For cooking," Dust Storm explained. "Foals love pony food. All kinds of food."

She twitched once, ears folding backward behind her. "Yeah, but... in the kitchen. You don't keep pots in your room."

"You don't want your own pots, got it." He nodded with each explanation. Strange that he was so patient—if a child started making demands to Charlie, she wouldn't have bothered listening through most of them.

"Everything else in here, you don't need. More space to walk around is better than... extra things."

"Are you sure?" he asked, obviously concerned. "Ponies collect things, it's how you show you're happy. It's why we earn bits."

Am I talking to a space alien? She was in another universe, it was probably a mistake to continue with any of her assumptions about how a creature ought to behave. But Dust Storm was really expanding her horizons of just how strangely a person could act.

"I only need a few things to be happy," she said. "Like maybe some more clothes. Books to read, and..." What she really wanted was to get her name back. But that wasn't a thing, nor was it something Dust Storm could help her with. Asking would only draw attention to how little she belonged here. "I'm sure."

"Okay." He walked past her to one of the beds. "Why don't you go back to the balcony, Orange. You'll find some stairs past our door that go all the way to the roof. Wait up there while I move all this stuff, so nothing gets dropped on you while I work."

He nudged her towards the door, barely even waiting for her to protest.

She opened her mouth to argue anyway. "Are you sure? I can probably—" but even as she said it, she realized the absurdity of the argument. She weighed so little that the best she could probably do was move those pots around. Based on the way the wind pushed her, she probably had hollow bones. Which would track with the whole wings thing, she was a bird.

"I'm sure," Dust Storm said. "You wait up on the roof until I'm finished. I'll come get you. I'd say you could fly around town if you wanted, but you can't fly yet. The roof probably isn't the place to practice with your wings."

He would get no arguments from her on that point. Flying did sound incredibly fun, despite the conditions all around her. But getting herself killed in this otherworld before she even got the chance to learn how to do it properly was probably not the best idea.

Charlie was a little surprised to hear Dust Storm shut the door to the bedroom behind him. Didn't he plan on pushing all that old furniture into the rest of the house?

But that would only make the apartment seem even more like a furniture store, and less like somewhere people actually lived.

He wants me out of the whole house while he works, not just out of the room. But he's trusting me on my own.

If ever there was a chance to run for it, this was it. She ducked and weaved her way across the house, considering whether to make a break for it. She'd seen the direction Derek went, she could reach her there pretty easily.

But for what purpose? Her friend didn't have the way back. She barely knew any more about this than she did. Derek didn't have her spellbook anymore, which had apparently held real magic all along. Without that, how could they ever get home?

There was nowhere for her to run. If she fled Dust Storm now, she would only be inviting him to give her far less freedom, or maybe even to get her reassigned to someone much worse.

So Charlie made her slow way out of the house, out onto the balcony. At least the breeze felt nice against her bare coat. It caught her wings, lifting them from below. The railings were low here, low enough that she could easily have clambered over even with her reduced dexterity.

They probably want creatures who fly to be able to come and go whenever they want. Maybe that would be her one day.

There was indeed another stairwell, though it wasn't enclosed like before. The steps were narrow and steep, high enough that she had to focus and concentrate on her climbing to keep from tripping over herself. She held out her wings as she climbed, entirely by instinct. It helped.

And when she reached the roof, the sunset was waiting for her. Her home was higher than most of the town, giving her a perfect view of its old-England style dwellings, stained deep red and orange with the sunset.

Strange that she could travel out to another universe and still find something so familiar waiting for her. She settled onto her haunches, the only sitting position that was comfortable, and watched in lonely silence.

She instantly started feeling self-conscious. Charlie wasn't exactly an introvert, she couldn't spend whole days by herself like Derek, and feel content. She needed to be out there!

How was Silvia doing, back on Earth? Did she think that Charlie was dead yet? Had she filed a missing persons report? Would they even bother getting divers into the water to see if there were bodies, or would they just assume her corpse was washed away somewhere?

Darkness descended around her, so slow and subtle that she hardly realized it at first. The chill wind hardly touched her, even with only her own feathers and fur to keep her warm. But if she was a bird, she was probably built tough enough for that.

The gloom was a little less enjoyable. As the sun faded, the moon began to rise, a poor substitute for light. There were only a few street lights down below, so far away that they were distant flickers of orange firelight. So like her room, the town used actual gas lamps. There were some lights in the other homes of course, but most of those kept their shutters tightly closed. Like they were afraid of letting too much of their precious light leak away into the darkness.

More than once, she rose to her hooves, and nearly went back down the steps. But Dust Storm had told her to wait. Would he be upset if she went back inside without permission?

Then she saw her first light—a bright green starburst just beside her, glowing unsteadily. But compared to the night all around her, it might as well be a flashlight. "What are..."

She held out one leg, and something settled against her hoof. A little insect, with its abdomen pulsing steadily with green. A second light soon joined it, then a third, circling around her. She giggled, trailing behind them across the roof.

"We never had fireflies where I grew up," she whispered to them, conspiratorially. "Other side of the country. I wasn't even sure you were real."

They seemed to be performing for her now, a little cloud of bugs that danced and circled around her.

Really, they were probably more interested in the nearby trees, with their canopies clustered just below the level of the roof. She spread her wings, spinning with them, and grinning to herself. "If I am stuck here, I hope I can learn to fly like you. At least being trapped has one good thing."

Of course the bugs didn't reply. She couldn't keep any one of them straight, they blurred into a dozen streaks of green light. Not ten million, but still too many for her to track.

"Orange," said a voice from behind her. Dust Storm, though a heavy load of exhaustion now crushed down on him. "Are you ready to come inside? I finished..." He trailed off. "Oh, you found the fireflies. I guess they like you."

"Like me?" They didn't seem scared off by her, and they hadn't stung. But fireflies didn't bite, so that was nothing new.

"I think it might be your wings." He reached her in a few strides, scattering the bugs all around him. Yet some of them seemed to linger closeby, as though eager to fly back around her as soon as he left. He turned over one of her wings with a foreleg, exposing the yellow-green feathers there. "You match."

"Oh." She grinned stupidly, the first genuine smile she'd felt all day. "Guess I do."

They walked back down to the apartment. Dust Storm helped her with the steps, giving her someone to lean against so she wouldn't faceplant on her way down. A few little green bugs trailed behind them all the way to the door.

"I know you were having trouble with your name," Dust Storm said. "What do you think about Firefly? It has a nice ring to it, I think. Traditional."

In what culture? She nodded back at him, still smiling. "I like it better than just calling me 'Orange'."

"Firefly it is," he said. "There's some food in the kitchen, Firefly. Then it's off to bed. I think you've had enough excitement. Tomorrow I can show you around town, maybe try some flying practice. How does that sound?"

Better than a bedroom full of crap. "Great," she said. "Sounds great."

Chapter 14: Put Out Your Eyes

Iris Vale should not have felt nervous leaving her home in the middle of the night. Her husband wasn't around to discover the absence and worry about her loyalty. The filly was asleep now, or so the servants watching her said.

That should mean the night was hers to do with as she pleased. She could go out and celebrate her victory. She had either done the gods a great service by allowing them to continue to live in the world they moved—or else she had just saved the lives of two foals who had no idea where they were, or how they'd gotten there.

That victory was not one she could celebrate, however. The worshipers of the true gods would be watching her everywhere, particularly on the winding path to the Cyan Mines. If the Watcher thought that she was taking too much pride in her victory, he might take it away out of spite.

It didn't matter what she'd grown up believing about how he was a perfect and just witness for the old gods, sent to return them to their kingdoms of glory—she knew the truth. The gods might be perfect, but the Watcher was mortal.

But after spending an evening with Purple, she knew that wasn't true either. She was a cute little filly, inquisitive and clever. She might make for a promising witch one day, if she were a unicorn. But a goddess? No.

What if we're wrong about what we can do with them? Maybe there's no way to bring them back to Equestria in their glory. The ancient traitors won another victory.

Cyan Mines loomed over her like a pair of gaping jaws cut into the ground. Willowbrook was mostly flat, so the line didn't cut through a hill. A pony wouldn't even see it was here, without already knowing. The abandoned mine was no longer marked on any maps, and had been erased from all the city's historical records. When the oldest ponies in town finally passed, they would take the final knowledge of its location with them to the beyond.

Just because it wasn't producing anymore didn't mean it was abandoned, though. A pair of coventry-dressed Watchponies waited just inside, through a wooden barricade and warning signs that were meant to look impassible, but could be easily pushed aside from the proper angle.

She only saw one of the two guards, doing their best to stay hidden from sight. A decent effort perhaps, but unfortunately she knew where to look. They also knew her, so made no effort to interfere with her.

She wandered a seemingly random path through the mine, lit only by the glow of her own horn. There were subtle signs, however—faint markings that would look like meaningless scratches, pointing her downward towards the sacred gatherplace.

She found another figure lingering in the hallway. Up here, no one would have the proper robes and vestments—their true faces were uncovered for all the world to see.

Normally this was a pony that she barely even noticed—his work infiltrating the Skywatcher Society and reporting any interesting finds to the waters was incidental to her. He was a servant to the cult, while she kept watch in the inner-circle.

Yet he had volunteered when nopony else would. You risked your life at the whims of a god, and the anger of Watcher to take this position. Her respect for him had grown by orders of magnitude, even if he did linger in the Cyan Mines' ancient passages, like he might be about to take a wrong turn at any moment.

"Lady Vale." He lowered his head as she approached—whether from her rank in the cult, or her greater significance in Willowbrook, it didn't really matter. "Please go ahead. I'm sorry to obstruct you."

She would've, until tonight. "Watcher called for you, Dusty?" she asked. "To discuss your first day with Orange?"

He nodded. "I've come up with a better nickname than that—Firefly. She seemed to enjoy having them around tonight. I can't imagine what would interest a goddess, but... better naming her something than a color."

Iris nodded once. She didn't continue past him, but lingered in the hallway, gesturing for him to continue. I should think about a proper name as well. Without a name, I wouldn't feel like a real pony either.

Dust Storm seemed nervous about her company. But his timidity also meant he didn't have the courage to argue with her, and soon they were walking together.

"What do you think about her... Firefly?"

"Instrument of holy will," he recited. "Rightful ruler of Equestria, honored in her domain. Greatest and most capable of ancients—"

He could probably keep going like that, and would have if she didn't clear her throat. "Yes, of course. But that isn't what I mean. We are not dealing with the gods as we worship them, in times of old. We view only the imperfect... reflections, we managed to cast into the world around us."

She lowered her voice. "I will not judge you for speaking frankly of ‘Firefly,’ and you should not expect me to treat Purple as though she is beyond reproach. When she comes onto her throne, inheriting her power—then I will prostrate myself. But we don't even know if that's possible. For all we know they are two thirds of an entire god, who cannot be united without their unicorn self.”

The pegasus ignored her invitation at first. He seemed to be looking around the tunnel, checking for other observers.

But she remained stubbornly silent, letting the pressure of the underground make him squirm. Eventually it worked, and Dusty finally spoke.

"You may be right. But did you think that they might be hiding, in disguise? Coming here helpless would be a perfect way to test our loyalty. If we do not act to please them, then they bring down their wrath."

She shrugged. They were getting close to the sanctum now, where they had doubtless both been summoned tonight. She would have to hurry, or else risk being overheard by the next group of Witnesses waiting in the tunnel.

"Even the gods must have had parents, yes? No creature grows without careful nourishment. I will try to act as the mother of a goddess. If this one is in disguise, she cannot possibly fault me for trying to nurture her in her current form.

She lowered her voice, just in case. "And if I'm right, and she's such an incomplete goddess as to be practically mortal, then my care may be what keeps her alive long enough to ascend back to her throne. She will reward me either way."

"I have not been a parent before," Dusty said. "It is not... physically possible for me." He could try to stay stoic and emotionless all day long, but there was no hiding his pain when he said things like that.

What Lovely told those fillies was no lie—Dusty did want to raise a child. But his selfish ends had been enough to let her save their lives. She could forgive a little selfishness there.

"I have read about it," he continued. "She does not seem different from the books. If I see anything, it is... trauma. Firefly has wounds that she will not speak of."

"Dim echoes of her banishment from her ancient throne, perhaps," Iris said. "Mortal creatures like us can hardly imagine the strain it must cause to somepony's mind, dying and being reborn like this. Obviously that strain was very serious."

"Or maybe the difficulty of the life she had in the world below," Dusty said. "A world without magic, without love, without hope."

She didn't correct him on the last point, though Watcher would have. It was blasphemy to suggest that the true gods did not know of their inevitable victory. The stars would be right, and they would rule. Mortal ponies did not help because they needed mortal subjects. Mortals helped because it was their rightful place in the universe, and service was its own reward.

But strict obedience to their doctrine was not her concern. Their doctrine wanted to destroy these imperfect bodies, sending the souls inside back to the hell they had been banished to.

"What about yours? Purple the earth pony—did you learn her true name?"

"No." Iris waved a dismissive hoof. "The geas upon her mind prevents this. Yet she did have... some recognition of her position. Vague, perhaps distant and muddled. She knows she came from another world, but is unable to articulate details. She sometimes seemed to recognize me as one of her worshipers, and other times not."

"Oh." Dusty shuddered. "Firefly didn't act that way at all. She knew she was lost and wanted to go back someplace, but it might as well be another city."

"They could be gods of different ranks," Iris suggested. "Or the process damaged one more than the other. They are immortals, in any case. An injury that would cause a pony permanent insanity should slough away from them in time."

Dusty shuffled nervously again, eyeing her. "I know that Firefly is eager to see Purple again, when it pleases you. The two of them seem deeply connected to me. Whether as rivals, or lovers, or friends, I don't know. She might not remember."

More strange truths for Iris to work into her worldview, somehow. Yet it should not seem that strange that the gods would have relationships like mortals—in stories, they had the same range of emotions that ponies did. Richer, if anything.

But there was no more time to discuss, not without lingering in the passage here. If the two of them were to have a private conversation about their charge, sheltered from the administration of the Watchers, this was not the place.

Iris fell silent as she walked the rest of the way, following behind Dusty. She was too high a rank to enter with him, that would imply a working relationship that didn't exist. But she couldn't just leave him here, or else damage a future source of information.

They seperated once they reached the sanctum's upper levels, dressing in the sacred vestments and covering their faces. She didn't see Dusty again until she reached her destination, and the office of the Watcher.

He was already there, waiting for her.

Of course Watcher wanted to know many of the same things that she had inquired of Dusty. But she gave far less detail, and so did he.

Without ever agreeing it so, neither volunteered much. Their ponies seemed to be healthy, they were far-advanced mentally for their apparent age. They showed faint memories of another place, memories that were largely suppressed by the geas upon them.

To her surprise, Watcher did not seem terribly interested in all that. He kept gesturing for her to speed up, barely even listening. Only when she had finally finished did he rise from his ritual throne.

The chair was carved right from the stone, with hundreds of eyes painted. All were different colors, but all seemed to watch the viewer. It didn't matter if Iris was in the room with another pony, she felt like they never looked away from her.

"Your goal at this stage is not only to keep them from discovery," Watcher said. "That is paramount, Equestria must not know. But it is the least you must do. There is more."

Dusty lowered his head submissively. "Whatever the Watcher demands of me, I will perform. For the glory of the true gods."

Iris felt far less need to grovel. "What is it?"

"Extract as much as you can from these memories," Watcher said. "We must know from what manner of world they come. We must know the arrangement of its substance. With this knowledge, we may strengthen the bridge. We must make it wide enough to bring a soul intact next time."

Iris nodded. She could see the wisdom in it—opening a portal, even a portal that led down into the fathomless depths of thaumically-dead Abbadon, required sympathy. Every true thing they knew could create more, making conditions on this side more like the world they wanted to reach.

"Do we lift the geas, then?" she asked. "I fear we may be working at cross purposes, binding their minds, but probing them."

"No!" Watcher snapped, so intently that Dusty actually jumped. "Do not question me, sister. You will not tamper with that spell. Do what I require, or I will find a pony who can."

She bowed, so shallow it was almost a nod. "I will do as the gods command."

Chapter 15: Castle in the Sky

The rest of Charlie's night with Dust Storm went about the way she should've expected. The kitchen had an honest-to-goodness icebox, one without any ice to keep it cold. The fruit Dust Storm had brought inside was still good, most of it, but not preserved in any way. He did nothing to prepare it for her either, leaving her to eat a few apples right out of the fridge.

Dust Storm didn't eat with her, or linger too long around her in general. Once she'd eaten, he seemed eager to get her into her bedroom and off to sleep.

That was fine with Charlie, all things considered. It wasn't late, and she knew she shouldn't be tired. Yet even just a few hours after dark, exhaustion was already creeping up on her.

It's just the stress. I'm not a kid, I won't get tired this early. There was less stress waiting in the bedroom. Somehow, impossibly, Dust Storm had managed to move all the furniture around. There was only one bed, everything was where she told him, and all the extra stuff was gone.

Maybe when she was more awake she might ask how he'd managed to do so much on his own—wasn't he a bird too, with bones and muscles built for the air? Maybe the furniture was lighter than it looked.

Newly rearranged, it wasn't a bad place to sleep. Charlie would probably make a few more adjustments over the next few weeks, if she was still stuck in this world. A little paint, maybe arrange the portraits and mirrors a little differently, and she could make somewhere that was actually comfortable.

Good thing she was so tired that she could sleep no matter what, or else she probably would've just tossed and turned there all night. She was still naked, with a body that didn't feel like it was hers, surrounded by strange smells in a strange bed.

She didn't cry herself to sleep, at least. Whatever cruel god or twist of fate had landed her here, she wouldn't give it the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Charlie was bigger than that.

She woke with the sun, as orange filled her room from the many windows. There was no clock, nothing to tell her how absurdly early it must be, so there was nothing to make her feel self-conscious. She was allowed to get up early and not feel like a kid.

Willowbrook might be too primitive to have regular electric lights everywhere, but at least they had running water. The shower was cold, so it didn't invite her to stay too long.

But considering the body reflected back at her from the bathroom mirror, Charlie didn't want to stay too long. Having her age and sex stolen from her would've been hard enough on its own—but this alien species made it so much worse.

She kept her tail tucked between her legs as much as she could, and that helped. Even without clothing, she could do an okay job covering herself, so long as she didn't move it too much.

Unfortunately it didn't seem like the world outside was going to care about her taboos. Out her window, Charlie watched the flow of traffic on the streets below. No cars, but there were plenty of horse drawn carts, and even more pedestrians.

Most ponies wore nothing at all, or at most a pair of saddlebags. Very few had anything like clothes that she knew. Of those, none actually would've covered the important bits.

They have clothes like us, they have some of the same bugs, they seem to speak the same language. But it's just one step wrong. Is this like... a parallel universe?

Charlie was the wrong person to investigate those questions. By the time she even started contemplating those things, Derek would have already figured them out. She would probably have plenty to say about the way Charlie refused to look at her own anatomy, too.

Dust Storm knocked on the door an hour or two after sunrise, then let himself in before she could reply. But why wait, if they were all just naked all the time anyway? "How are you feeling? Do you like the room this way?"

"Yeah," she said, turning away from the window and lowering herself stubbornly into a sitting position. There was no chance of accidentally showing anything back there if she kept herself glued to the ground as often as possible. "It's nice! I would like some clothes, though. Do you have any?"

"It's summer," he said, confused. "Is there... oh, I know!" He turned away from her, hurrying over to a large shelf located in the center of the living room. He fished around with some old boxes, then emerged with something clutched in his mouth. A wide-brimmed straw hat, about the right size for her, and with openings in the top. For her ears, maybe?

He tossed it on the ground in front of her. "Summer clothes? I have a few bags too, but you won't need to carry anything. I thought we should wait a few days before we get you into school."

"There's no summer break?" she asked, pawing at the hat. There was a band of flower-patterned fabric around the top, exactly the kind of thing she wouldn't want to wear.

She put it on anyway. It settled comfortably around her head. It would obstruct much of her vision, but also probably keep her cool in the sun. It didn't slip down to blind her.

"That looks perfect! We can get you a coat when winter comes, how does that sound? I can't think of anything a filly like you would want during the summer."

"How about some board shorts? Jeans? Maybe a tee-shirt?" She was probably too young for a bra, assuming ponies even had breasts. Another question for her to bury away as deep as she could.

He shook his head. "Maybe in the big cities. But this is Willowbrook. You wear all that, and it will just slow you down. You won't be able to explore without getting it muddy, or caught in the branches of a tree, or..."

He patted her once on the top of her hat. "Tell you what. If you can glide for me today, I'll find you a dress. You can even pick it."

The offer was baffling to her. Yet there was some part of Charlie desperate enough to answer. "Sure! If I get to pick it... then it won't be too girly. I don't think I know how to glide, though. I've been base jumping before, but I don't think it's the same thing. Wings seem harder than a parachute."

Somehow she managed to get that entire sentence out without her head splitting open. She hesitated near the end, expecting the pain to come rearing back for her in a wave of fury—but nothing happened. She didn't hurt!

"Don't worry about it, Firefly. Plenty of little creatures don't learn how to fly until they're older. We're not griffons—we aren't going to shove you out of the nest and let you die if you hit the ground. Trust me, it's worth the practice—you're going to love flying."

Charlie followed him through the apartment, back to the kitchen. Apparently he had paid attention to her complaints the night before, because there was an actual bowl of fruit on the kitchen table, and the boxes of old screws and bolts of cloth were gone.

Still just fruit, albeit there were a few fresh peaches among the apples. She selected one, and found it just as delicious as it had been the night before. Wherever Dust Storm bought this stuff, it was as fresh as a local farmer's market. Maybe even picked that morning.

"Do you ever, uh..." She didn't want to sound ungrateful, not after he'd already done so much to fix her room in a single day. But she couldn't help herself. "I like fruit, but do you ever cook too? Like... warm meals? You have a stove, and an oven..."

"Oh." Dust Storm winced. "I'll be honest with you, Firefly. I don't know how to cook. I know, I should've learned. It's such an important skill for anypony. But I never got around to it. I own most of the things ponies use to cook, hidden away somewhere or other. If you tell me the ingredients you need, I can have them here for you. I just don't know that I will ever be much use to cooking them."

She nodded, taking in the explanation. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever heard from a bachelor. Though how he'd managed to survive this long eating only fruit out of a bowl, she couldn't imagine. At least it wasn't hay. She could see no sign of that anywhere in the kitchen.

"I'm not very good at cooking things..." she began. "But if it's gonna be me or nobody, it can be me. I'll let you know."

He let her finish in silence, leaving her to her meal. Didn't he want to have breakfast at the same time? But complaining about that would require admitting that she wanted to eat at the same time as her adoptive parent. Obviously she didn't need that. Charlie was a grown-ass man. She could make her own damn food and eat it on her own.

Even if she'd never have another of Silvia's crepes made just the way she liked them, ever again.

"Can I see my friend again? D—" Apparently there were still words she couldn't say. "We were best friends. It would be nice to spend time with her."

"In time, I'm sure you will," Dust Storm said. He waved one hoof at the open window. "House Vale is... very important in Willowbrook. We can't just visit unannounced. But you will be attending the same school. Because of your unique circumstances, the..."

He looked away. Whatever it was, he obviously didn't want to tell her the truth. "Interested parties have graciously donated to your cause, and will cover the cost of private schooling."

Private horse school. Apparently that was a thing that existed. "That's great, I guess. I don't think I'll need to learn very much. Where I came from, I was already trained in... things." She gestured vaguely. No easy way to explain real estate to a pony. For all she knew, the act of trying would cause her another horrifying headache.

"Whispering Willow Academy will see to all of that. The smart thing to do is let expert ponies use their skills. They'll teach you what you need to know. And I'll teach you what I can. Once you can fly, your life will get much easier. All of Willowbrook will be just a few minutes away. You can visit your friend whenever you're invited. You could even explore the Cumulus Maze. Ever heard of it?"

She shook her head once, pushing aside the empty bowl. The fruit was good, but she was already getting bored of it. Maybe she'd find some way to cook herself dinner. "I'm kinda new. I don't know stuff from... here."

Dust Storm made his way over to the window, gesturing animatedly. "Have you seen drawings or photos of Cloudsdale?"

He didn't even wait for her confirmation. "Cloud-structures look elegant, but they require ponies to live in them to survive. When they aren't used, they drift away. Willowbrook happens to be built under a natural gyre in Equestrian airflow—basically, clouds eventually converge here. Old, abandoned buildings, sometimes centuries old, with all kinds of secrets hidden inside."

Even considering her whole day of insane things, that strained credulity with Charlie a little. Houses made of clouds, floating along the wind?

But considering her position, she knew better than to argue. If she was going to be stuck here, then learning how to use her body was about the smartest thing she could do.

Chapter 16: Grounded Voices

What did it mean to learn to fly? Charlie wasn't exactly a nature buff, so it hardly lingered too long in her mind. Maybe she'd seen a documentary on it once, but if she had, she didn't remember anything. It seemed like the sort of thing a flying animal would just know, enabling them to fly from the nest with very little instruction. It wasn't like birds had classrooms to teach that stuff.

But even if that was true for birds—and she wasn't sure—it clearly wasn't true for her. Charlie could make her wings open, if she stood still and concentrated on both of them very hard. But that was it. Even getting them to flap was beyond her, let alone putting enough force that she would get off the ground.

All pointless. Derek will get us both home soon. That might end up being true, of course. Maybe Derek would get them back home at any moment. But if she assumed that was coming, she would probably just curl up in a ball and wait for everything to end.

How long could that go on—weeks, maybe months? She wouldn't curl up and waste her life.

Dust Storm took her out into Willowbrook, just as he promised. As far as small towns went, this one seemed pleasant enough to live in. Ponies on the street waved to him as they passed, though they had only polite smiles for her.

It seemed nicer than living in the city, all things considered. Dust Storm knew everyone by name, and people they met took the time to ask her name.

It was exactly the kind of place she'd want to buy a house with Silvia one day. They could settle down on a cul-de-sac somewhere, raise a family. It would be perfect.

Except that her girlfriend was in another world, not a tiny horse, and possibly gone forever.

They passed a few important landmarks, and Charlie tried her best to pay attention. There was an old temple building, a run down city hall, an old fort left over from "the war." The kind of thing tourists might find on their walking tour, with little plaques in front of each one.

It looked like their tour through town would take most of the day, until the carriage rolled by.

Charlie couldn't see anything particularly off about it—it was straight out of history, with a harness for two horses to pull, a thin wooden passenger cabin with glass windows, and bright flags on either side. There was at least one obvious sign that the cart wasn't as simple as its historical analogue—there was nowhere for a driver to sit, or any sign of one.

Dust Storm reacted swiftly when he saw it. They walked only a few more steps together, then he gestured towards a nearby alley. She followed, spreading both wings in confusion. "Something wrong?"

"No," he said, pushing her along with one wing, urging her deeper into the alley. It didn't continue very far, ending in a tall wooden fence between two apartments. "I just think we should have our flying lesson now, that's all! There's a little playground not far from here. The hill should be a perfect place to run."

Run. Charlie wasn't even sure she could do that with her body. But she couldn't quite bring herself to admit it.

Dust Storm spread his wings as they approached the fence, as though he was going to leave her behind.

He didn't, though. Instead, he gripped her about her forelegs, then took off.

The jolt was so unexpected that she squeaked awkwardly as they lifted, kicking out in vain with her hindlegs. Wind blew around her, and her wings snapped open by reflex. But she didn't know what to do with them, and after a few seconds they just drifted slowly closed again.

By the time they did, Dust Storm settled her back onto the ground. Her wings poked out awkwardly to either side, feathers thoroughly displaced.

Beyond the little fence, they'd landed in a courtyard, fully enclosed between several large buildings.

Calling the area a park was a bit generous—it was a large grassy field, about a city block in size, but shaped irregularly. A hill rose in the center, with a lopsided metal sign on one side.

The hill had some play equipment, all haphazardly constructed from wooden crates, sheets of scrap metal, and other makeshift materials. A treehouse rose in the center, with rickety bridges between them, uneven slides, and a few different rope swings. This was the nightmare of any parent—no railing, rusting metal, and rocks scattered among the grass to catch anyone who fell.

It looked incredible. What she wouldn't give to play somewhere like this when she was a kid, instead of some sterile wooden platform over spongy ground with stern parents hovering inches away at every moment.

There were a few other children already playing up in the treehouse. Two children, both with wings of their own.

"Here we are. I'm going to need to, uh... run off for a bit, Firefly. Play here for a while, make some friends.”

She whimpered, retreating a step. Her flank bumped into the fence, and the wood didn't budge. There was no gate, at least not on this side. But at a glance, she couldn't see any obvious entrances. Did that mean ponies needed wings to get in here?

"Alone?" Did she always sound so small and pathetic?

"For a little while." Dust Storm glanced back the way they'd come, taking off to hover in the air beside her. "I'm sorry, Firefly. It won't be long, I promise. Just don't go anywhere, so you don't get lost."

He took off, hovering away and over the wall. She squeaked nervously, pawing at the old wood with one hoof. It flaked away at her touch, and probably would've filled her fingers with splinters—if she still had fingers.

One day in and I'm already abandoned. She watched through the crack as Dust Storm hurried away. Curious that he didn't fly to whatever urgent need had attracted his attention. He landed, then broke into a gallop, vanishing around the corner.

He's up to something.

Had she been adopted by a criminal? If so, at least he was the sort of criminal not to involve a child with whatever shady dealings he was up to.

She turned in time to hear someone skidding into a landing beside her, spraying dirt and little rocks as she came down, coming to an awkward stop a short distance from Charlie. "Hey. You new?"

In her proper body, Charlie could only think of this creature as a little girl. Her colors were simpler than some she'd seen in Willowbrook, with a cloudy gray coat and sunny hair and tail. Like Charlie herself, she also lacked a mark on her rear, the proof of puberty successfully completed.

She was also a full head taller, with wings that spread far wider than Charlie's did when she flew. She loomed over her, older and stronger and bigger.

"You do know how to talk, right? Are you sure you're big enough to be out on your own?"

I'm not going to be intimidated by a little girl. "No," she said flatly. "I'm not old enough to be on my own. Here I am anyway."

She chuckled, nudging her with one of her wings. The gesture obviously wasn't meant to hurt, and it didn't. "Funny. Hey River, did you hear that?"

Now that she was paying attention, Charlie saw the other pony leap right out of the tree. She spread both wings, and caught herself in an awkward, unsteady glide, coasting down to the ground near them.

Like the first girl, this one slid awkwardly along the ground, using her legs to decelerate. I'm not that far behind on knowing how to fly. They're bigger than me, and they can barely do it.

Why did that make her feel better?

"I'm Firefly," Charlie said, hoping she sounded more confident this time.

"Sunbeam," said the first.

"River Breeze," added the other. Of course Charlie had already heard that name.

"You already found our secret spot," Sunbeam said. There was obvious frustration in her voice, though maybe not with her. "Nopony is supposed to know. Who told you?"

"My, uh..." She stopped herself short of the obvious answer. These children wouldn't understand, and didn't need that level of detail anyway. "My dad? He..."

She lowered her voice, glancing back at the fence. "Do you know what a weird carriage would mean? Everyone went to hide when it went past."

"He's here?" The two children shared a look, then backed away from the fence. They turned and ran up the hill, away from her.

Charlie whimpered, reaching weakly out in their direction before she even realized what she was doing. Were they really just going to leave her, just like that?

"Come on!" Sunbeam called after her, gesturing with her wings. "Hurry!"

She didn't ask why, just obeyed. She wasn't very fast yet, or terribly coordinated on her hooves. But this was just a grassy hill, with ground easy for her hooves to grip. She only slipped once as she ran, and didn't even fall.

She was learning quickly.

"You know what's so dangerous?" she asked, at the edge of the wooden platform. These two might act like children, but that didn't make them humans. The playground didn't have ladders and monkey-bars, or nets for climbing. They lacked the appendages to use them. So it substituted ramps instead, sometimes with little raised wooden ridges to grip and climb.

She hesitated at the bottom of a ramp, watching the girls retreat higher into the tree. This time they headed straight for the treehouse—really just four walls and a doorway tucked against the side.

The species was a little like a weeping willow, with long branches that sagged to the ground in a curtain of large leaves. It probably worked well to hide things from sight, but not so well against the rain.

"Up here!" Sunbeam said.

She glanced once around the park, just in case. Maybe there were other children playing, so she wouldn't have to go somewhere so scary.

Unfortunately not. Given the choice of being down alone or braving the ramp, she chose the latter, and started climbing.

The wooden platform looked like thin plywood, but it didn't so much as bend as she walked, barely even flexing under her weight. Her wings opened as she went, and the climb got a little easier. They must be keeping her balance, somehow.

Finally she reached the top, clambering through the treehouse doorway like a mountain climber summiting a peak. The space fit comfortably against a trunk, with a single flat platform about the size of a shipping pallet. There was a simple table inside, and a few cushions. A trash can with some burned candle stubs, and a weather worn map against the wall.

She couldn't read the words printed on it, and not just from the gloomy shadows. But she still recognized the shape of Willowbrook's streets from the tour, along with the sketched versions of old landmarks.

"Your clubhouse seems awesome!"

"It's very secret," Sunbeam said. "You shouldn't even know about it."

"She's a pegasus." River Breeze appeared near the door, nudging one of her wings open with her nose. “We stay away from the earth ponies. They have the rest of Willowbrook. That's why we have to stick together."

"They can't get in. There's supposed to be... something here. Fancy building or whatever. But until they build anything... it might as well be ours."

"I can keep it secret," Charlie promised, before she even realized what she was saying. She'd just seen something important, hadn't she? These two knew about it.

But somehow, it just didn't seem like it mattered right now.

"I guess that's good enough." Sunbeam said. "Secret fortress junior member Firefly."

"Velvet Moon will be happy not to be the youngest anymore," River muttered. "Think she's coming?"

Sunbeam ignored her.

She bent down, shuffling around in an old box against the wall. She emerged a few seconds later, with a few cloth hair-clips. Each one had a simple sunflower design, though the colors were off, and the stitching was wrong. Factory rejects, maybe, stolen from the trash?

Now she knew where they'd gotten theirs. Without waiting for her permission, Sunbeam took the little clip in her teeth, advancing on Charlie. She held her mane down with one hoof, then settled the clip in place.

It took only seconds, though it left her squirming with discomfort. Did ponies not care about personal space? "You have a... secret society of pegasi?" she asked instead.

"Everypony in Willowbrook has secrets," River Breeze said. "But not all pegasi. We have a bat."

Chapter 17: Broken Goddess

Derek stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The reflection she saw staring back was just as disorienting as it had been the night before—if anything, it was worse.

On her first day of waking in Willowbrook, she felt like the world was behind a thick fog. It warped her memories, suppressed what she could say, and seemed to be clawing its way into her mind. It would silence her thoughts and memories if it could.

Waking now, her mind was clear. She still couldn't say certain words out loud, but otherwise she could see normally. She could not rationalize what she saw as a dream or the use of drugs, or hypnosis, or whatever other explanation.

It was like the very first time she'd managed to make a spell work—impossible, yet undeniable.

She looked back at the face of a young, frightened child. When she twisted and lifted her tail, she saw confirmation that even the subtlest aspects of her identity had been stolen from her. It wasn't enough to be just a horse, or just a child, or just in another world. She had to be female as well.

Derek's little bathroom had an adorable vanity painted with multicolored hearts and prancing unicorns. There were dozens of different containers—vials and tubes and bottles of creams and salves and makeup. So she assumed, anyway.

Figuring out how makeup was meant to be used when her face had fur was still ongoing. Some of these other bottles were probably perfume, at least from how nice they smelled.

No one came in to stop her as she tinkered around with some, until she found something she took for hair-gel. Getting it into her mane also meant smearing half the tub all over the countertop, given her lack of coordination with her hooves.

But she got it in. Then she started moving her hooves wildly, sweeping back her mane in the most masculine way she could manage.

After what felt like ages glaring back into the mirror, she hadn't made it much past tomboy.She knocked a few bottles right off the table in her frustration, before just rubbing her head against the wall, messing up her mane in the most exaggerated way she could.

"A brave style, Purple. I'd even call it avante-garde," Iris spoke from behind her, obviously suppressing a laugh.

Derek turned, ears flattening. "Hey, you shouldn't come in! I'm naked!"

The pony stopped in the bathroom doorway, eyebrows going up. "I'm not sure how those are related." She made her way over, glancing once into the mirror beside Derek.

Tomboy was bad enough, but now her mane had transformed into “three increasingly aggressive cow-licks.” The pony nudged her shoulder with one leg, guiding her back into the chair.

"More like this." A hairbrush lifted from the sink, along with a bottle. They moved on their own, like an invisible stylist had appeared beside her. Derek jumped anyway, nearly tumbling out of her seat at first.

Right, unicorns can just do that. She settled awkwardly back into place, pretending very hard that she hadn't just made a fool of herself.

"Now, let's just loosen this up a bit. Maybe we can part it here? That looks appropriate for a filly your age."

"No," Derek snapped. "I don't want to be girly."

The older pony's confusion seemed to grow. The brush did move aside, which was something. "What do you want, Purple?"

She struggled to answer that. Obviously the same force that wouldn't let her use her real name also prevented her from mentioning this. The headache would start right up and keep her from sharing.

She didn't want to take the chance. That was the only reason.

"I want to look... mature. Dignified."

"Ah." She nodded knowingly, then the brush started to move again. This time, it layered her mane, separating the colors. There was only so much she could do with it so long and girly. The changes didn't make it look less feminine, just less childish.

At least she didn't look like a hobo. After a few minutes, the mare seemed satisfied. She set down the brush, then gestured for the door. "You must be hungry, Purple. Come along for breakfast."

She needed no cajoling into that. At least this time her meal wouldn't be served in her lonely bedroom.

As it turned out, her new world had many of the same foods as her old one, except for a prominent absence of bacon. She hadn't become magically more coordinated since the night before. But she managed not to spill all over herself, which was something.

When they were finished, she followed Iris through the huge mannerhouse, with servants always lurking at the edges of her vision. She could've sworn she caught Little Risk watching her more closely than most. It was enough to keep her blushing all the way to the library.

"We didn't have as much time yesterday as I would have liked," Iris said. She rang the bell, then waited for a servant to open all the blinds. Despite her magic, doing it all herself was evidently beneath her.

"I thought we might speak a little about what you remember. About the place you were before waking up here."

Derek froze, fear and uncertainty roiling in her gut. What did she remember? How about an entire lifetime! A career, patients she cared about, a practice she had built up over years. A family who would eventually notice she was gone, friendships. Granted, she had at least one of those friends here in Willowbrook...

Assuming Charlie still considered Derek a friend. I can still get us home. If I'm quick enough, we could brush it off as getting lost in the woods. We'll turn into a crazy story of hikers who wandered too far, and the forestry service will probably close the Hidden Falls until they put in a proper trail.

That was all still wishful thinking. It would stay that way until it wasn't.

"Purple? Can you hear me?"

She'd been standing in silence, probably looking stupid. The windows were open, and someone had kindled a little fire in the hearth.

It didn't seem uncomfortably cold to her, yet she could feel a chill. She felt it, without it properly reaching her. "Sorry, I got a little distracted." Her ears betrayed her again, but she was getting used to that. "What do you want to know?"

Iris led her to a comfortable sofa by the window. She produced a scroll and quill pen from nowhere in particular, and held them in the air in front of her with more of that strange magic.

A direct confrontation of the impossible, on the one hand. On the other—even Risk lingering by the wall was capable of exactly the same thing. An entire species that relied on magic. But how did her species get things done?

"Where you come from," Iris said. She spoke the question quietly—not for the ears of the distant servants, then. "We know some things, but only what records have been passed down since the True Gods ruled in their glory."

You know we traveled from another world, right. You have magic too. Is that what brought us here?

"What do you know?" Derek asked. Her voice shook as she did it, maybe a little braver than she should be. But she asked anyway. "About the place I come from, I mean."

Iris hesitated. "Do you remember the conversation we had on our way to the manor?"

"About... keeping secrets?"

"Yes. This qualifies. Anything I share with you is as dangerous as the memories you bring. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

The mare finally looked up. "Little Risk, please wait outside. See that no servant enters until I call."

He nodded, hurrying out the doors without another word. He pulled them closed with his own magic, leaving them alone by the window.

It was a good view of Willowbrook, or at least the lands of House Vale. Derek could see fields and orchards, tended to by distant pony outlines. There must be dozens of them.

"We do not have its proper name," Iris said. "We call it Abbadon—a state of absence. It is the gulf that unravels all magic. Even the soul twists and unravels when passing through. Only a creature of greater resilience could survive the passage. No pony has ever managed to glimpse through. We know nothing of what it is like there."

"Uh... normal?" She winced, unable to meet Iris's eyes. "I don't know what you're asking. It has plants and animals and gravity and people and cities and time and life and death and—everything else?"

The unicorn scribbled furiously. From the intensity of her scratching, she might've been writing every word Derek had just said. "Do you remember being banished there?"

"No." A simple enough answer. Of course Derek hadn't been banished anywhere. But technically that meant she didn't remember it, right? "Nothing about that. I grew up there. My whole life was..."

Not great,not perfect. But trying to say anything specific really did threaten to split open her skull. "Not very magical. I only learned how to do it recently. I didn't even think any magic would work. I was still feeling everything out when a spell I was working on..."

How much should she tell? She felt no compulsion trying to stop her from telling the truth about magic. But just because nothing would force her didn't mean that she could trust Iris. Being nice for the one day they'd been together didn't prove that Iris was trustworthy.

Unfortunately it seemed she had already said too much. "You were working on your own spell when you were brought here?" The unicorn scribbled eagerly at the scroll, silent for almost a minute as she wrote. "That might just be the missing piece we've been looking for. We've tried so many times to reach down into that realm, but the magic always fails. Generations of your loyal servants have dedicated themselves, without success."

Derek got up, backing away from her. "I don't remember... specifics," she said. "You probably shouldn't make any important decisions based on me. I failed, that's why we're talking in the first place."

"Failed?" she repeated. "Weren't you banished to Abbadon? You're back in Equestria now, Purple. Your banishment is over, you're home."

She spoke with such confidence, like she was declaring some profound truth that would shake Derek's whole world. All it actually did was confuse her. This isn't my home. I was born somewhere else. She remembered everything. She was still going to find her way back.

"The magic you used to bring us here—" she said, choosing each word carefully. "Could we reverse it to go back?"

"No," Iris said. "Substance cannot exist on the other side. Everything we know to be meaningful—actually, what am I saying? We just have theories. You can tell us what it was actually like."

She leaned in close, falling silent again. If she thought the pressure of it would get Derek to share more than she wanted, she would be disappointed. She knew all those tricks, they wouldn't work on her.

Someone screamed from down the hall—several angry voices, overlapping. Derek couldn't even make out what they were screaming, but clearly Iris could. She rose to her hooves, tossing the pen aside but keeping the scroll in the air beside her. "Apologies, I'm needed. Enjoy the library until I return."

She ran for the door, banging them open with her magic as she went. She took off galloping down the hall before Derek could so much as open her mouth.

"What the hell?" Derek took a few nervous steps after her, ears perking to full alertness. Being an animal did have some advantages. Her senses were far sharper.

But the voices didn't unite into anything coherent—just servants yelling for each other to go downstairs. Something important was obviously happening.

Derek moved to the window instead, propping her forelegs up against the wall to see down.

A carriage was parked in the cobblestone drive, flying white and yellow sun flags.

Chapter 18: Fireblood

Derek should probably have just stayed in the library and waited for Iris to return. It was the simplest plan, and was likely to get her into the least trouble. No matter how upset she was with the circumstances of her new life in this alien world, anger did not translate into competence. I can't get away. I could run to the other end of the world, and still never see home again. Only the magic in this house can help us.

Maybe that meant she should be translating forbidden volumes, scouring the library before Iris returned to stop her. Unfortunately for her, that plan was also doomed. She needed to be able to read the books to suss out forbidden things.

Indecision nearly won out, trapping her in the library until whatever strangeness was over. But when she turned, she caught a glimpse of the hallway through the open door, and something clicked. Those were some very interesting tapestries, and who knew what other things might fill a house so large. Maybe there were some things she could learn.

Derek made her slow way to the door, ears alert for even the slightest sound. Whatever was going on outside had obviously drawn plenty of attention. Maybe enough for her to avoid notice and explore this floor before sneaking back in?

She reached the door, nudging it slowly open with a hoof. It creaked loudly as it opened, making her snap her hoof back inside. No sign of activity in the hallway, though she could still hear pounding hoofsteps downstairs. What were they doing, anyway? Obviously an important person had just arrived. And I'll be beneath their notice. I'm just a kid the lady of the house decided to adopt. Right?

She could do this. She wasn't just going to sit in the library and wait. Derek rocked back and forth on her hooves, then hurried out through the open door. She grinned, filled with a rush of excitement and bravery as she made it outside. This stupid transformation couldn't stop her, she was still brave, still smart. I got this.

"You shouldn't be out here," said a voice from behind her, less than a second later. There, sitting just beside the door, where he'd been hidden by the wall—was Little Risk. He wore the same vest as all the other servants, and the same nervous expression she heard in all their voices from downstairs. Yet he watched her with a stern, uncompromising expression. "Didn't the mistress of the house tell you to wait?"

She winced, spinning slowly around. Mostly because facing away from him meant he was staring right at her tail. Her ears flattened in embarrassment, most of which was probably from the nudity. "I can't, uh... read," she said, wishing very much she could sink into the floor as she said it. "Your languages, anyway. I can read fine in—" The pressure returned to her head, enough that her words fell silent abruptly. She was getting much better at that, it turned out. She could feel the pain coming and stop before she invoked the curse. "Others."

"It's not hard," he said, rising from his sitting position. "Do you want me to show you? There are some books our school uses inside. They go over the syllabary and all the different—"

She walked right past him, ignoring whatever else he might be saying. The hallway continued beyond, furnished in fine wood and hung with tapestries and oil paintings. There was an order to it, alternating on one side, while busts of stern-looking ponies filled any gaps.

She looked up at the first one—it depicted an ancient city, vaguely Greco-Roman in architecture, though she doubted anyone had put so many togas on horses in the real world. Maybe one equine senator...

The little colt appeared beside her. He reached once in her direction, but his hoof stopped short. It wouldn't be polite to just grab me, would it? I'm part of this household, not another servant. He settled it back down again, huffing through his nostrils in a distinctly equine gesture. "Can't you come back inside? The mistress won't be happy if you get lost somewhere."

"Where is this?" She pointed up at the tapestry, ignoring him again. "It looks like it's—" She fell silent, but for far shorter this time. She was getting better at adapting. "Somewhere warm. An island isthmus back in history. An empire as noble as it was brutal, um..."

"A long time ago," he answered. "Please come with—"

She walked past him, along the little line of portraits and tapestries. There were more of the same country. The painter seemed to favor depictions of a temple-like structure, with rows of thrones at different heights. Many had ponies settled in them, though they did not look like any of the tribes she'd seen so far. These horses had wings, but also sharply pointed horns. So twice the pony she was, since she didn't have either.

"Why aren't there any ponies like this in Willowbrook?" she asked, pointing at one portrait. It depicted an older stallion, with a gray mane and flowing beard like one of the ancient medieval depictions of unicorns. "I saw all kinds of people when I walked here, but none looked like this."

Risk fell silent for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. When he did finally answer, he sounded timid, like someone who was afraid he was about to make a mistake. "They're, uh... the ancients. They used to rule Equestria a long time ago. Now there's only one left, Princess Celestia."

"Oh." There was something here, a connection she hadn't made yet. Iris said they worshiped the true gods, and they think I'm one of them. "What happened to the rest?"

This time Risk shook his head. He looked up and down through the hall, as though searching to see if anyone was watching them. But there was no one in either direction—no guards, no other servants, no pompous nobles she hadn't met with. All the noise came from downstairs. "That's not something we talk about."

She made an agitated sound, leaning in close to him. She was taller, and stockier too. Let him try and lord that stupid horn over her all he wanted. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone else, promise."

He glanced up and down the hall again. His tail whipped nervously back and forth. But there was so much noise coming from downstairs now that there was no chance of them being overheard. Servants were arguing about something, but Derek couldn't tell what. Preparations, maybe who should have to deal with which job.

"There was a war—lots of ponies decided they didn't want to follow their gods anymore. A few of the Alicorns betrayed the rest, and took their side. They won, and most of them were banished. These paintings are... artistic versions of what might've been."

Derek considered that. Maybe she was wrong to connect this depiction with anything she'd heard before. Everyone said she was a god, yet she clearly didn't look like these particular old gods. Unless they grew their wings when they got older—but that couldn't be right. Charlie had hers already, and Derek was bigger!

"It doesn't sound like the ponies won in the end," she whispered. "If Celestia is still in charge. They just gave all the power to a single dictator."

"Solar Tyrant," Risk whispered. "But we don't talk about it, remember? Ponies love her. They have to, because otherwise bad things happen. Even in Willowbrook, you have to be careful. Can we please go back now?"

She almost did, but they were so close to the end of the hall. A dark door waited there, open just a crack. Something faintly green flickered from beyond, like burning copper. Yet she felt no heat, no breeze. "How about we go here first?" She poked at the door with a hoof, but found it surprisingly sturdy. This was old metal wrapped around thick wood, the kind of door that could hold back a siege.

"Stop! We're not allowed!"

She braced her legs against the ground, and shoved with all her might. The door gave way easily then, swinging inward with another heavy metallic sound. So quick in fact that she stopped short, looking down at her hoof. Had she misjudged the weight?

Inside, the fancy wooden decor stopped abruptly, replaced with old, worn stone. Like a castle tower, complete with narrow windows and a spiral staircase leading up. The candle-brackets were empty here, and no gas lamps glowed from overhead. A green light radiated from above, shining down the steps. Without knowing how she knew it, Derek knew there was magic upstairs. She didn't need a dowsing rod to sense it here, or any of the crystal instruments the old textbook had suggested to aid in measurement. This was in her bones.

"Something's up there," she said, hurrying up the steps. "I have to see what it is!" She passed old bookshelves, weighed down with strange instruments and old scrolls. Cobwebs snaked over some of it, betraying just how rarely the place was visited or touched.

"You have to come back now!" he yelled. Risk stood in the threshold, gazing up the steps at her. "That's not just wandering anymore. The mistress does her spellwork in the tower, it's not safe!"

She stopped near the top of the steps, as high as she could go while still able to see him. The floor above him was lit starkly with the same green, like a whole row of strangely-colored spotlights. "Of course it isn't, it's magic!" she called back. "I'll be careful!"

She crested the steps, emerging into a wide room about twenty meters across. The ceiling was steep overhead, confirming her suspicion she'd stepped into an old tower. There were plenty of windows along the rim, all covered with black curtains. The only light in the room came from a circle in its center, a circle made of a metal ring set into the ground. There was something in the middle, a... fire? It burned bright green, and she could see no fuel for those flames.

Yet they moved. Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, as she stepped into the room, they pressed up against that side of the circle. There was no barrier, no glass she could see, yet they flowed upward, mapping a perfect invisible line from that point on the ground.

Derek drew closer, though she remained well over a meter away. She paced slowly around the circle, taking in the other details of the room. There was an arcane diagram chalked around it, with five circles each containing a different object. The stub of a candle, a little bottle that smelled like evergreen trees, a cut of bloody red meat from who knew what creature. She lost track of the other things, because the flames started talking.

"Oldest and greatest," it rumbled, with a voice that was so deep it shook her entire body to the bones. "You come at last to release me."

She stopped in place, staring into the flames. As they spoke, they reshaped themselves, forming into an outline she recognized. A human shape—two arms, two legs, and a long torso. It towered over her, reaching almost to the ceiling, with hair made from wild green flames. A pair of eyes formed on that face, sunken black pits that didn't glow with the rest.

"How do you look like that?" she asked, mouth hanging open. "I thought nothing could! I came here, and I was... trapped! Like this!" She waved a hoof demonstratively towards the creature. "See?"

The whole circle overflowed with flames for a few seconds, as though the creature was driven briefly into a frenzy. Her spellbook had said something about this. It was possible to reach beyond the physical world and bring things in, with enough magic. Obviously the ponies had plenty of that. But why keep this one contained?

"I understand," it said, reforming. It seemed to lean over her, though it could not pass above the barrier. "I know what you do not. I can unbind what has been bound. Release me, elder one. I will release you in turn."

Derek considered. She had read very little about rituals like this—maybe thanks to pop culture, or maybe it was just good sense. Either way, she never imagined it would be a good idea to bring in forces she couldn't control. Once she broke the circle...

"Get away from her!" A pair of little hooves stomped up the steps, rounding on her. Risk's expression was wild and confused, but he didn't stay that way for long. His eyes fixed on her, then he charged. "We have to get away!"

Before Derek could open her mouth to protest, he slammed into her, tackling her to the ground in a flurry of tangled limbs. They rolled across the room, kicking and struggling. Right over the edge of the summoning circle.

Chapter 19: Asbestos

An explosion of heat blasted over Derek, enough that she tensed reflexively, rolling away from it as best she could. She hardly even felt the weight of Risk on her, though his body was shaking and there was terror in his voice.

"We shouldn't be here! We need to... get out..."

She grunted, and something quite close to genuine profanity escaped her lips. Maybe the curse on her brain could only bind her in the face of so much. She managed to get her hooves under her with difficulty, shoving the little creature off, and rising to a standing position.

She was beside the circle now, chalk smeared and ruined. Each of the objects trapped inside was a melted black blob now, a few actually burning on the stone floor. She felt a little scorched herself, though nothing permanent. Her fur had singed on the edges, but that was it.

"Good!" rumbled the strange voice. It formed in the air above her, no longer resembling any familiar shape. She thought she could make out a mouth of jagged, sharp teeth, and those same black eyes. But it didn't look like a human anymore, or even a pony. "No oath was sworn between us. No bindings anchor me here. I am unshackled!"

A roar shook the building, echoing all around her. But it did more than that. It pressed against her mind, screaming against her thoughts with a voice so loud it demanded to be heard. But Derek had been dealing with magical pressure against her thoughts since waking up in this place—she shut it out, eyes watering from the pain.

Her companion collapsed to the ground beside her like someone had just snapped his spine. He fell limp, eyes wide and staring. His limbs didn't even twitch.

Derek retreated, dragging the pony along behind her by one hoof. She didn't need to understand magic or the world she'd found herself in to know that she wanted to get away now. "So you're... grateful, right?" she said, voice quavering. "That I released you? Now you'll go somewhere and leave us alone?"

Flames roared up in the room around her, heat that made her crouch low, cowering from it. Heat so intense it could scorch her body to nothing in seconds, if it wanted to. "If I could," it said. "Yet I have been trapped so long, slave to the mistress of this house. I require power, fuel for the flames. I see only one source."

It came roaring down on her in a rush, so quickly she barely had time to react. In the second she had, Derek threw herself over the helpless pony, shielding him with her body as best she could.

She felt the heat as a single, sourceless flame, like sticking her head into an oven. She screamed in pain, but the heat of it soon drove the breath from her lungs.

But that pain was only the beginning of the terror she experienced. Just as her body was burned, the pressure against her mind got far stronger. It screamed in the same voice that had shaken the building.

"SUBMIT," it demanded. "GIVE WHAT YOU ARE. FEED THE FLAME." It demanded obedience, a roar without beginning or end. Its words overlapped into an unintelligible mess, yet the thoughts behind it were absolute. The flames would get brighter, burning her until there was nothing left. "LET GO. I WILL TAKE AWAY THE PAIN."

It would be so simple. Stop resisting, and the pain could go away. That wouldn't be so hard.

Derek hadn't made it to another world only to die now. She screamed, ignoring the flames as they leapt at her back. "No!" she yelled. As she did, the heat retreated from her, backing away from the pony underneath.

The poor stallion had hunched into a ball under her, and she could see why. Where his mane poked out, there was only fine black ash. Parts of his body were scorched too.

"Get away!" She screamed into the flames, defiant. The heat scorched at her sides, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. Yet these weren't real flames, she realized that now. This entity was a spirit—it fed on life, not wood or coal. She would give it nothing. "You can't have anything!"

She screamed louder, and the heat retreated. What had once seemed to fill the whole tower backed higher and higher, closer to the ceiling. None of the nearby paintings scorched, the curtains weren't singed. It couldn't burn them.

What had her spellbook said about summoning? They need something to anchor them here. The circle is broken. "You can't have him! You can't have me! Get out!"

The flames came roaring back one last time, a wave of green surging towards her like a match to a pool of gasoline.

Derek didn't budge. She didn't look away, didn't blink despite the terrible heat. If it can't burn cloth, it can't burn me. "I don't belong here either!" she screamed. "I don't care what you want! You can't have it!"

It came down on her, and this time the pressure was unrelenting. Flames lashed out at her body, searing where they touched. She held firm, standing protectively over the fallen body of Risk. For whatever reason, the child seemed far less able to endure these conditions. If she didn't protect him, he would be swept away.

She'd felt this pain before—it was the same agony she had experienced briefly when she was ripped up into the air after her little spell on Earth. It was the pain of something trying to destroy her...

There was a brilliant flash of blue light, and the pain stopped. It took her eyes a second to adjust, long enough to turn to the side and see a creature standing there. Iris Vale and another pony, both standing in the stairwell. Smoke rose from Iris's horn like the barrel of a gun that had just fired some devastating shot.

Just like that, the flaming monster was gone. Derek took a single, wobbling step forward, so she could look back at Risk. He was still there, sheltered underneath her. He seemed to be recovering—he sat up anyway, looking around with confusion. He hadn't been consumed.

"I..." she began. But the weight of what had just happened struck against her. The strength of adrenaline began to fade from her, and suddenly she couldn't keep her legs up anymore. She wobbled on her hooves, then collapsed. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

Derek wasn't sure when she woke. When she finally did, she wasn't in a stone tower. She found soft cloth wrapped around her body, sheets that embraced her from all sides. The room beyond was pleasantly cool, and she felt no desire to fight her way out of bed.

Any hope that she might've woken up back on Earth was dashed quickly, unfortunately. She twitched and shifted in bed, and felt a familiar pony body underneath her, with all the requisite embarrassments. That made her want to get up even less. So she lay there, eyes closed, pretending she was still unconscious.

Voices spoke around her, getting closer. The longer she was awake, the harder it was to remain down and still—there was an itch on her back, compelling her to sit up and scratch it. But she resisted, at least for a little while longer.

"Stood up to the monster, she did. Mistress found her protecting him like the specter of the true gods herself."

The voices stopped just a few feet from her, and something settled on a nearby cabinet. This bed was familiar to her, now that she had moved around in it a little. This was her bedroom in House Vale.

"Will she wake up, you reckon?" asked another voice. As thickly accented as the first. "Stood before a demon, they say. True gods protect her."

"We remember them," the first voice echoed.

They remained nearby for a few minutes, before shuffling back the way they'd come. Derek held still a little while longer, counting the seconds until she was sure that the ponies wouldn't return. Only when no further sound came did she chance opening one eye.

She was right in her guess, this was her bedroom. Only it had been transformed—the windows were open, and the bedside table was filled with... flowers? She recognized the species, though how it had found its way into Equestria she couldn't say for sure. Little flowers clustered in bunches of a dozen or more, each one no larger than a thumb. They were named after the soft purple color they grew in, or maybe the other way around. Lilacs. They covered both nightstands, and were scattered on the floor all around the bed. Some had withered and browned, particularly on the edges of the flowers. Others were in cups and jars, remaining bright.

At the front of the table was a ceramic bowl with a candle in the center, and a thin residue of ash inside. Like creatures had been burning incense or offerings here.

The door into the rest of the manor was closed, thankfully. She dared sitting up, straining her neck to get a good look into the bedroom mirror.

Inside it, she saw a pony in decently good shape, despite what she had suffered. There were patches of coat shaved down almost to her skin, which was as pale as many animals not meant to have their skin visible. The only real damage was around her back, which was covered in a tight wrap of bandages. That was where the itching came from. She leaned back, rubbing her neck against the headboard. She sighed contentedly as the itching eased a little.

Then the door opened. Iris Vale walked in, trailed by a servant with a tray of honey and a natural sponge. They both stopped in the doorway, staring at her.

Derek lifted one leg, waving weakly to her. "H-hi," she rasped, throat raw.

The tray dropped from the servant's grip. Iris caught it in her magic, settling it safely on a nearby table. "Fetch the healer," she whispered, gesturing out the way they'd come. The servant galloped off without another word.

Iris shut the door behind her, then crossed to Derek's bedside. She looked down, expression pained. She was silent for a long time, long enough that Derek began to feel incredibly awkward. But what could she say without admitting to just how badly she'd screwed up?

She didn't have to say anything, as it happened. The bed glowed, and her blankets adjusted themselves. Iris settled them back in place over Derek, nodding in satisfaction. "How long have you been awake?"

She winced, eyes focused down on the bed beneath her. "Not long." Then her face wrinkled in embarrassment. "Long enough that I need to pee like a racehorse. Can you help me out?"

Iris smiled. It wasn't much, but Derek would take what she could get.

Chapter 20: Lilac Empathy

Derek was back in bed and feeling quite a bit less uncomfortable by the time the doctor actually arrived. Like so many other things she'd seen in Equestria, the pony wore an old-fashioned outfit and made everything seem adorable. Unfortunately for her, the actual checkup was anything but.

After poking and prodding at her vitals, the next step was removing her bandages and cleaning the wounds underneath. Derek got a single glimpse of what was down there, and probably would've puked all over her bed. But she was too hungry for that, so instead she just shuddered and looked away.

"We've used the best regeneration magics known to ponies," the doctor explained, sounding apologetic. "We've removed the necrosis before it could reach as low as the spine, or damage any of your important muscles. But there will be some scarring. Unless the mistress knows some technique not commonly shared among ponies."

"Unfortunately not," Iris whispered. She spoke to the doctor, but her eyes were only for Derek. "The creature that attacked her is known to do far worse. It can disintegrate limbs in seconds, devour a pony in minutes. The injuries it causes can't be regenerated even by Alicorn magic."

The doctor nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. Finally he returned to the bed. "Well young Lilac, you're one tough little filly. Your wounds have already started scabbing over. We'll keep you bandaged to avoid tearing anything, and replace them every twelve hours. Report to me if you begin experiencing a fever, reddening near the wound, or loss of appetite. Alright?"

"Lilac?" she repeated, confused. Then she remembered the flowers. "Ah, right. All these flowers. Why are they all here, anyway?"

"Offerings to the Goddess of Healing, Lilac Melody," Iris supplied. "My entire house heard about your heroism, sweetheart. Offerings for your recovery have been... ceaseless."

She waved one hoof toward the door, "You may go, Mending Balm. Please remain on the grounds until this filly is beyond all risk of infection. I'll leave caring for her to the nursing staff unless something goes wrong."

The doctor bowed low, then hurried from the room, shutting the door closed behind him.

This time, the silence didn't last nearly as long. "You made quite a name for yourself," Iris continued, levitating a single sprig of the plant from her bedside. She levitated it over, and unseen hands moved though Derek's mane. After the awful smell that her bandage had unleashed, the flower was a nice change. "You stood before a bael and it barely scratched you. If Canterlot knew of this, they would certainly have you killed."

Derek stared up, eyes wide with confusion. "Why? I... saved a pony, didn't I? Isn't that a good thing?"

Iris barely even seemed to hear her. She walked past the bed to the window. She drew the curtains closed with a light touch of her magic. "My husband was furious with your presence here. The first time he's ever taken an interest in anything on these grounds. But when word spread that he meant to expel you, he nearly had a riot on his hooves."

When Iris turned, she was grinning. Smugly satisfied. "‘You'll not lay a hoof on little Lilac,’ they said. ‘Saved Gentle Care's little colt she did. Fought off the forces of Tartarus herself. Gift of the true gods.’" She chuckled, crossing back to Derek's bedside. She reached down with a hoof, stroking her mane again. "I hope you understand the honor they pay you. Naming you in the manor of the gods, speaking out against the master of the house—an incredible thing."

Derek blinked. It wasn't just the flowers she was talking about. "Risk is okay, then?" she asked. "I kept him safe?"

Iris nodded. "Thanks to you. The bael feast on the will of all creatures. No pony could've stood beside you in my tower and survived. That was precisely why I had such powerful protections containing it. One does not traffic lightly with the Energy Plane. I'm curious to hear what misfortune led you there. And past every compulsion I placed upon the foundation to keep eager ponies from coming to harm."

Derek whimpered, and looked away. "I'm sorry for everything I broke. I didn't want to hurt... anything. I didn't mean to spoil your hard work. I just wanted to see what was up there. It's not my—" She trailed off abruptly. She hadn't intended to let the creature free, that much was true. But if she revealed that Risk was behind it, Iris would surely punish him far more. He had warned her to leave, several times. If he got his way, she never would've been exposed to danger at all.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," she said lamely. "But I am responsible. I deserve whatever punishment you give me."

The unicorn rolled her eyes in response, patting her gently on the forehead. "I'm afraid there will be two, sweetheart. Both are entirely beyond my power to protect you from. But in exchange, you earned yourself a place in this household so firm that even my husband cannot interfere with it. One wonders if Foresight may be a better name than the one you earned, but..." She shrugged one shoulder.

"Your punishments are simple. I suspect that scar will last for the rest of this lifetime. Beyond that, I don't know... but you're said to be immortal, returning after every death. If this is so, then it will seem like a minor inconvenience to you. The second... perhaps a little less so." She lifted another of the flowers in her magic, spinning it through the air in front of Derek. "I meant it when I said they named you. The method was foolish and common—bringing these offerings to the goddess, then it's no wonder you're surrounded by so many. But it stuck, and I'm certain neither you nor I will be able to change it."

Derek nodded weakly. "You mean the... servants gave me a nickname?"

"They needed something to call you, when spreading stories of your heroism. So you're Purple no longer, Lilac Empathy. If you're... actually a different goddess, I hope you'll forgive them their ignorance. They meant it with love, and you haven't been able to tell us otherwise."

She sighed. "Lilac... Empathy." She winced. "That's the girliest name I ever heard."

"Then you've never met Posey Rose," Iris said, still smiling. "There's no helping it regardless of your wishes on the subject, or mine for that matter. Rumors have already spread. Mercifully... bereft of details. None of the help actually saw the bael. I suspect the stories will claim you slew a wild animal. If anypony asks, it was a timberwolf. Those are known to fester in the forests off our land, ponies should believe it."

Most of that went into one of Derek's ears, and out the other. Only one piece stuck. "Names... bind things," she whispered quietly. "That's how you trap spirits, isn't it? Learn their name. And if they learn yours, they have power over you."

The mare's expression became impossible to read again. "You are not wrong, Lilac. That name binds you to this house, and its staff. The ponies of Willowbrook will know it as the name of a stranger who saved a life. A blessing more than a binding, I should think." Her eyes lingered on the bandage. "There will probably be some voices calling for my blood when they see that. Cursed fools... wanted your essence returned to the Depths to await revival, but a little scar is going to give them words against me. In the same breath as your survival proves your divinity, your injury may be used to steal you away."

She dropped to one knee, lowering her head before Derek. "You will have the choice of what to do then, Lilac. I hope you will choose to stay."

There was an out buried in that somewhere. She could live somewhere else. But why would she want to? "I will," she said. "I didn't mean to get into so much trouble. I was just looking for magic. There are... places I want to go with it." It sounded so lame when she put it like that.

The mare stood. "For my sake, please don't go off exploring them on your own. Willowbrook is full of dangers. You have an incredible will, but that wouldn't be enough to protect you from many of the monsters here. As your knowledge grows, you will need less from me. But for now... let me introduce you to the magic. There are few mares in Willowbrook who can teach you as much as I."

Derek nodded eagerly. For once, there was no need to act. "That sounds awesome! I'd love to learn. But..." She winced. "You said your husband doesn't want me around?"

Iris turned away, so she couldn't see her face. Her voice was somber, though. "I misjudged him. But he will not move against you now, except perhaps to forbid you from inheriting. He still hopes for a... natural child. You shouldn't take this personally."

"That's fine," Derek said. "I don't plan on being here that long anyway."

"Please listen to the nurses, and let yourself heal. Even an earth pony needs some time to recover from an injury as severe as yours. We'll speak about magical studies to occupy you during your recovery." She left then, leaving Derek alone with her thoughts and the drawn window.

She couldn't move much, though she longed to take a trip over to the shower. Maybe she could get a nurse to help with that. The demon might not have killed her, but her own stink probably would.

She received dozens of visitors over the next few hours, and half a hundred over the following days. It wasn't just household servants who wanted to see her—there were farmers, ranchers, and craftsponies too. Many brought offerings for her, coins or articles of clothing or little toys. But even the humblest child brought at least one lilac to add to the offerings. Those weren't for her, exactly, but the strange goddess of healing. Lilac Melody. A pony of another age, long dead. Nothing else could bring home the scale of Iris's household quite like meeting so many of its members.

She did very little during those visits, accepting their thanks. "Of course I fought," she would say, or something similar. "That's what friends are for." It was about the stupidest thing she could've said—she barely even knew the pony she mentioned. Yet the words seemed to stick, and made the visitors even more excited as they left.

There was only one visit she really cared about, though. Late on the first day, wrapped in his own bandages. His mane was scorched off, though a little fuzz was already starting to grow back. He had the help of another pony as he entered—his father, wearing the fanciest servant uniform she'd seen from anyone. At first she worried that she might not even get to say anything to him—nothing real, anyway. But Iris appeared after a few moments, and the two of them hurried off to whisper about something near the doorway.

Risk approached her bed, looking nervous. "I don't..." he stammered. "I'm sorry, I mean... following you up there. I had no idea what I was doing."

She smiled at him. "That makes two of us, Risk," she said. "It would've been better if you didn't break the summoning circle and let the monster loose. In case you're ever exploring with me again. Leave circles alone, okay?"

His mouth hung open, and he mouthed the word “again.” He propped his forelegs up on the side of her bed, leaning in close. He whispered so quietly that not even the adults could hear. Hopefully. "Why?"

Her ears flattened, and she nearly looked away from him. But she remained stubborn, focused on him. "Did I need a reason? It was the right thing to do."

The colt slid down off the edge of her bed. "Thanks, Lilac. For saving me. And... not telling anypony it was my fault."

They left a few minutes later, and Iris followed.

Lilac Empathy had her room to herself again. At least they'd left the window open this time.

Chapter 21: Feather Compact

Charlie never would've admitted how much she enjoyed the next few hours. It wasn’t just that the fillies had an awesome fort to themselves, which was true. It wasn't even that they gave her some pointers about how to glide down from the higher levels, and didn't once comment on how bad a job she did. What it was might be a little harder for her to quantify, though. Maybe something as simple as being around some friends with no expectations.

Maybe it was camaraderie. Sunbeam and River didn't mind having her around, even as a total stranger. When Velvet Moon arrived half an hour later, they welcomed her in too, even though her appearance was the strangest of all. Apparently ponies could have bat wings and fluffy ears, or fluffier ears than usual, in addition to whatever other strange quirks of appearance.

Velvet seemed to expect a need to justify herself to Charlie, and began with a deluge of explanations about why pegasi and bats actually had quite a bit in common and it was silly to exclude any of them when there were so few in town. Sunbeam and River only laughed at that defense.

"We're not replacing you!" River said, flinging open the clubhouse door. "You're in, that's in."

Sunbeam nodded in agreement. "It's Firefly who... ain't in yet. Fully." Her wings sagged a little. "You probably will be! Don't be sad. We just have to make sure you're not a spy for the land ponies."

Velvet looked suddenly suspicious at that, though the expression was so exaggerated it probably couldn't even fool a child. "Are you a spy, Firefly? Are you gonna tell 'em our secrets?"

"No!" she exclaimed, with enough conviction that even she was surprised. These were children playing in a backlot, she shouldn't care anything about what happened. She should probably be searching for a way home. Except that she hadn't even believed in magic until it had stolen her from reality and dumped her here. "I don't even have any friends in Willowbrook," she admitted. "I got here a few days ago. I only met my, uh... my dad. And he's the pegasus who showed me you were here."

This seemed to satisfy her companions, and they returned to far more important things like seeing who could walk out the furthest on an unsteady branch. At least until a group of ponies came marching by the fence. Every other girl in the fort looked up instantly at the sound.

They darted for the top level almost in the same moment, the only floor with a coherent wall.

"Come on!" Sunbeam hissed, gesturing urgently. "Get in!"

Charlie had no real reason to flee, yet the powerful emotions of these other ponies was contagious. She hurried up the ramp, slipping twice before she finally reached their fort. Velvet slammed the door closed behind her, shoving a little piece of metal in to latch it.

As far as forts went, it was hardly a comfortable place to hide for any length of time. It wouldn't even keep them fully concealed from the outside, since there were open cracks in some of the boards big enough for them to look through. Charlie pressed her head up against one of these, squinting through to see what was so frightening to her new friends.

She saw half a dozen ponies, walking together. They wore white and gold uniforms, and their faces were mostly obscured by shiny metal helmets. They even wore wooden batons on their sides, though none had them drawn. One hesitated near the fence, stared in for a few seconds, then hurried to catch up with the others.

"Who are they?" she asked. She thought she was whispering, but even that wasn't quiet enough for the girls. She got several harsh glances in reply, and she tried the question again more quietly. "Who are those ponies and what do they want?"

Sunbeam reached out with one hoof, dragging her across the floor to the most sheltered corner, where few shafts of light entered from outside and the window was entirely obscured. She didn't resist, at least not intentionally. But her wings puffed at the gesture. Seemed more like a bird thing than a horse thing.

"They're here from the crown," said River. "SMILE, probably. It's always SMILE."

Velvet nodded weakly. "Looking for things. They know that not everypony in Willowbrook likes the princesses as much. They want everyone 'convinced'."

Charlie tucked both of her wings, a gesture that required conscious effort on her part. "But we're just kids. Why would they care about us?"

"We're ponies," Sunbeam said, exasperated. "We don't have goats in Willowbrook. Or cows or nothin'. That's rich pony stuff."

"There's a donkey at the end of Clover Circle," Velvet said.

"Yeah whatever. That's basically just an earth pony with less magic."

They remained subdued for the next half hour at least, until a large carriage bearing white-gold flags rolled past the fence outside. Then it was back out of the safety of the fort, for more important things.

Gliding didn't seem hard at all, really. Charlie couldn't say how much of that was weighing so much less, and how much just came from the low heights she chose to jump from. Whatever the reason, by the time playtime was over, she could glide comfortably down even from the top of the fort. The other girls could make it further than she could, and could actually make it back up again. But considering it was her first day, she felt nothing but pride at the achievement.

Velvet was the first one to leave, a little past lunchtime. She muttered farewells to the others, explaining something about her nocturnal family, then was off over the fence.

"But doesn't nocturnal mean sleeping during the day?" Charlie asked, as soon as she was gone. The three of them gathered by the side of a building now, where an external hose-connection gave them a place to drink. She didn't even feel a little strange drinking straight from the faucet, not with as long as she'd been outside playing.

"We don't talk about that," Sunbeam said matter-of-factly.

"Velvet is really shy," River agreed. "She's always been a little weird, it's a bat thing. She shows up at weird times, and leaves at weird times. Even the teachers let her do it."

That was as far as Charlie's inquiries would get on that particular score. Besides, she was getting hungry enough that she might start picking at the undergrowth the way the other girls were already doing.

Thankfully, Dust Storm arrived about ten minutes later, carrying a paper bag in his mouth. He landed on the other side of the fence, glancing between the three of them.

"Firefly," he said. "It's time to get going. You girls behaved yourselves, didn't you?"

Her new friends nodded eagerly. "We did!"

"It's nice to have another Pegasus in Willowbrook."

"Right." He nodded towards the fence. "You'll need my help to get over, right?"

She nodded sheepishly, and thus began the embarrassing process of being lifted up and over the wall. She landed on the other side, then her eyes settled on the sack he was carrying. "That smells like lunch."

"It is," he said, smiling cheerfully. "We don't usually eat out, it's an irresponsible use of limited bits. But I wanted to apologize for leaving you alone unexpectedly." They walked a short distance to a bench beside the road, before he revealed what was inside.

Like a sub sandwich, almost. A sub sandwich made by a vegan alien who had heard the food described, but never seen one. She picked at it for a few seconds, but hunger was ultimately a stronger force than disgust.

Before Charlie even realized what was happening, she'd already finished it, and they set off down the streets of Willowbrook again.

"I did promise you a dress," he continued. "And we'll need one for your first day of school. We'll see what time we have left for flight practice after that, okay?"

She groaned at the mention of school, pawing awkwardly at the ground with a hoof. "I know this probably seems like a... weird thing to say, but I don't need school. I know basically everything. All the stuff they teach in schools."

"Really?" He stopped at the edge of a street, suppressing a laugh. "What's the sum of five and twenty?"

"Twenty-five," she said, exasperated. "And the cubed root of 2197 is 13, 9 times 7 is 63, there are 180 degrees in any triangle, the formula for velocity of a moving—"

Dust Storm gently pushed her mouth closed with one hoof. Her little outburst had attracted some attention—adult ponies running nearby shops and stalls staring at her. Mostly she saw annoyance on their faces, but there was some suspicion too.

Nothing stopped me from saying all that, she thought, with a thrill of exhilaration.

"That's very good, sweetheart," Dust Storm finally said, lowering his hoof. "You're really going to impress your teachers tomorrow. But school is more than just numbers. It's reading and writing and history and science and music and art and friendship and much in-between."

He lowered his voice to a whisper, urging her to start walking again. "More than anything you learn, it's about the creatures you meet. Friendships you make now can help you in the rest of your life. When you're a little older, you might need some of those connections."

She didn't argue—it was obvious enough that any attempt would just get him to silence her again. Besides, he was right. She barely understood this world, and everything about it confused her. Being able to recite a few things he'd memorized in middle school didn't mean she knew how to be a little horse. Or even worse, a grown-up horse.

God, don't leave us trapped here that long. Derek, you better be designing the return-spell right now. Or so help me, I'm going to... Something.

That little tangent was enough to bring her back to reality. "Didn't you say I could see my friend at school?" she asked, as they reached the open doors to a shop. A used clothing store, judging by the many racks hanging inside, and the smell of already worn. Like so many other things in this place, the familiar smell of sweat was replaced with an equally unpleasant barnyard smell. It was horses, because of course it was.

They walked all the way to the "fillies" section near the back, where dozens of different articles of alien clothing crowded for space. Not a single pair of shorts or trousers here, though there had been a few labeled "gentlecolts."

"I'm afraid fillies' clothing isn't something I understand very well," Dust Storm admitted. "But the clerk should. Miss Crinoline has a few daughters." He waved one wing, drawing her attention. "Miss Crinoline! Could we have your help for a moment."

After genuinely enjoying her morning, what followed was an hour of what Charlie could only describe as “ritual embarrassment.” The doting, elderly Miss Crinoline had all of zero interest in anything Charlie had to say. Indeed, at times it seemed she couldn't hear at all.

Dust Storm offered very little help for some time, settled down in a nearby chair to watch. Occasionally he shot down one proposed dress or another, suggesting that they would fail to meet the standards for the school. In the end, that only left a few options.

"I just don't want something so girly!" she insisted. "Can't I use darker colors? If I have to wear something like this..." She took a few steps towards the "colt's" section. But that argument was lost barely after it had begun, unfortunately. And she hadn't pushed for guys' clothes for very long. For boys, they mostly had vests and caps. At least some of the dresses would give her back a little modesty.

"No, dear," Crinoline said. Her voice was harsh, making it quite clear how likely she was to win an argument. "Your coat is such a lovely orange and yellow. Anything too dark will look completely out of place."

In the end, she gave up fighting entirely, and let them dress her in something white and frilly. It was the shortest, restricting her movement the least when she tried to walk around, and threatening to drag the least when she moved. Besides, white wasn't girly! White was like black, it went with everything.

That it had little sunflowers sewn into the hem was acceptable losses, compared to the other things she might've been saddled with.

At least Dust Storm didn't make her wear it home.

Chapter 22: Schoolyard

The next few days contained very little of note for Charlie. Some days she spent more time out in the city, talking and visiting with her new friends. Sometimes she went with Dust Storm, usually just a short distance outside the city proper. Far enough that she wouldn't crash into anyone or provoke worry for her safety when she flailed madly in her attempts to fly.

She didn't actually succeed, though she got closer. After a week or so, she could even pass Sunbeam when they jumped at the same time. If she got a running start, she could go up for almost five whole feet before she started to drop again. She was learning, she just needed a little more time to perfect the technique. She was getting there.

She spent a few long nights staring out her window, taking hours before she finally got to sleep. Over a week missing back in the real world. The government would probably be calling off the search soon, if they hadn't already. She'd be one of the other few hundred thousand people who went missing every year. Maybe they'd even whisper that he wanted to go missing, that he'd run off with Derek to Argentina or something.

The pain of it never got to her for long. Dust Storm was never too far away, and seemed to have a sixth sense for when she needed cheering up. His experience was bewilderingly patchy in so many areas—like not knowing how to cook for her. But at least he was willing to help.

Ultimately those next few days were in a holding pattern, waiting for the meeting that mattered. Charlie might've been more successful back home in a dozen different ways, but she didn't know magic. Derek was her only chance of that. Charlie kept her eyes open, but never actually saw her friend out on her own. She'd been adopted by a pony far too important for that.

In the end though, she'd be going to the same school. Whispering Willow Academy started with the end of summer. Its students weren't the kind to be concerned with bringing in the harvest—this was instruction for the elite. Or the elite of a strange small town with questionable loyalty to their national government, anyway.

When the day finally came, Charlie didn't put up a fight. It wasn't a rational argument—ultimately it just came down to the deep personal indignity of being forced to go back to school as a tiny girl horse wearing a dress.

She put on the damn dress, and she let Dust Storm lead her down the streets of Willowbrook to Whispering Willow.

She knew they were going the right way after only a few minutes, when the type of buildings and the ponies walking around them visibly transformed. It wasn’t just in the amount of clothing they wore, though that was certainly a factor. So few ponies had bothered wearing anything at all, until suddenly every child had something. Mostly vests or jackets for the colts. The girls all had dresses or skirts. Little of it actually seemed to care about modesty, so it could ultimately provide similarly little comfort. There would be no crossing her eyes and pretending she was back on Earth.

The school itself wasn't large, all things considered. Maybe similar to a rural elementary school, with six or so different classrooms. But it was hard to be rational about the building when her view of the place came from about a foot above the ground. Everything and everyone still towered over her.

Charlie might've been sucked through a hole in reality into another universe, she might be stuck in the body of a magical horse with wings, but even here there was still bureaucracy to worry about. Dust Storm still had to sit with her for an hour in the school's admin office, going through all her paperwork.

Finally, after she had begun to despair ever getting to class, she saw Derek at last.

Her friend was already waiting in an empty room, with a little sheet of papers and a single teacher tapping her hoof impatiently for Charlie's arrival. The word “stern” had been created for creatures like this, with faces like they might try to scowl Charlie right out of existence.

"By cosmic coincidence, there are two students in need of evaluation before me today, neither of which possess even basic reading competency. Much as you deserve to have failure ratings in all other areas, I've been forbidden from assigning them. As such, I will evaluate the two of you verbally. Take your seat, Miss Firefly. We will begin when you dain to grace us."

She scampered to her seat. She barely managed to glance sidelong at Derek before the exam began.

It was a surreal experience—at one moment, the questions were trivial, covering logic, mathematics, or practical skills. But then they'd be asked about history, or magical theory, and neither of them could provide an answer. The test did not actually go far enough to test their limits when it came to anything humans would've taught.

The process took two grueling hours, with Miss Sugarcane almost literally breathing down their backs with every second. Eventually she seemed satisfied, and she gathered up their answer sheets. Well, she'd been the one writing on them anyway, so maybe they were her answer sheets?

"Remain in your seats," she snapped, as a single one of Charlie's hooves scratched the classroom floor. "You'll not be attending classes today, as Whispering Willow Academy does not know where to place you. Sit here and wait like good little fillies. I'll be back promptly." She gathered the stack into her levitation, then stalked off. Charlie wouldn't be surprised if she'd locked the door behind her as she left.

She turned, and found Derek looking back in her direction. For a few seconds they just stared, meeting each other’s eyes. Then without another word exchanged between them, they both started giggling.

"Well that was hell," Derek squeaked. Charlie reminded herself that was who she was hearing, anyway. The voice was a little deeper than hers, but still had nothing in common with her best friend's. Even her accent seemed different. "That's worse than that year I took six AP classes at once. That was worse than the MCAT."

Her friend had changed very little since the last time she'd seen her, at least physically. Her adoptive parents had stuck her in a dress too, though she had been allowed deep blues and purples. Hers was also tailored for her body, hugging to her hips and settling comfortably around her legs when she moved. Her adoptive mother clearly knew how to handle that long mane, because there were half a dozen little clips and hair ties holding it up and all of them were color-coordinated.

Charlie wasn't jealous, not a little bit. It just wasn't fair that she had someone who actually knew how to put clothes on her. "I hope not. Sounds like we failed at most of that stuff. But she just kept asking. What's Princess Celestia's favorite food? How long did the Dragon Invasion have troops in Yakyakistan? Who defeated the Schmooze?" She rolled her eyes. "Whatever the hell any of that means."

Derek shrugged. "At least it's over. Maybe they'll let us test up in a while, once we've had enough time to learn the written language." She looked back at the entrance to the classroom, staring through the little glass window.

From the inside, the building was as vintage as the outside. Gas lamps on the ceiling, and real chalkboard at the front. The classroom had almost none of the accoutrements Charlie might've expected from a school for very young children. There weren't smiling illustrations, it was all charts and graphs and maps. Stuff so boring her eyes glazed over before they could even settle on it.

"But we're not gonna be here for that long, right?" Charlie asked. "You're getting us home, aren't you? When do I need to be ready to meet you? Running away at night is gonna be tricky, I swear my dad is always awake."

Derek shifted in her seat, suddenly avoiding Charlie's eyes. "You say that like it's so easy, Ch—" she choked, resting one hoof on her forehead in entirely familiar pain.

"Firefly," Charlie said. "That's what they're calling me now. It's okay I guess. Better than being just 'Orange.' Did they give you a real name yet?"

Derek's ears flattened, and her tail flicked loudly back and forth several times before she spoke again. "It's, uh... it's... Lilac... Empathy."

Charlie waited for the punchline. There was probably something Derek was expecting her to say. Or maybe she was just self-conscious about getting a new name? "Okay that's too long. Lilac, how's the escape coming? My family has to be completely terrified by now. I think the police usually declare someone missing after two weeks or so, we're really pushing the line here. When do we go home?"

"I don't know." Derek smacked into the table, her words coming muffled and afraid. Of course there were plenty of other signs of just how defeated she was. Her ears remained flat, her tail didn't move. There was even a smell to that much shame, though Charlie might've just been imagining that. "I ended up in the right place. Iris is really smart, and magical. Her family knows a lot about things that most ponies don't, and she's willing to teach me."

"But..." Charlie prompted. All her excitement had faded to the background now. There would be no sudden freedom in the next few days. No flight in the night to prepare for, no conspiracy to hatch. There would be no seeing her family or friends again. No reuniting with her girlfriend. No seeing her dog.

"But it's... not so simple as just opening a magic portal and walking back. There's probably a way—it seems like magic here can do way more than it could back on Earth, like there's just so much more of it... but it's not the kinda thing I can learn in a weekend."

She lowered her voice to a whisper, finally meeting Charlie's eyes again. There were actual tears in her face now, and her voice cracked with every few words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your life. I didn't... nopony could've known this would happen. I'm trying to find a way out. But it won't happen tomorrow. It probably... probably won't even happen next year."

The words were their own devastating blows against Charlie. Each one carried the unmistakable weight of conviction. And it wasn't like Derek would lie like this—the lie would be to give her hope, not admit she was clueless.

"What are we supposed to do?" she asked. Charlie sniffed, then wiped her face with the back of her leg. She must've got something in her eye just now, because the whole world was blurry. "Just be... stuck? Live with people we barely know? Pretend we're... ponies?"

"Don't have to pretend," Derek said. She hardly sounded any more confident than Charlie felt. "You're a little horse, Firefly. So am I. If you wanna help look for magical ways to another world, that would be pretty great."

She fell abruptly silent as the door finally opened, and Miss Sugarcane stomped back inside, holding their tests. "Well if those weren't the strangest evaluations I've ever had the displeasure of grading," she said. "Though I conducted them myself, it appears bizarrely as though your scores are identical. That is concerning. If you expect academic dishonesty to get you anywhere here at Whispering Willow Academy you'll soon find disappointment."

She glowered at the two of them, as though daring either to speak up in their defense. Fortunately for her, she found two fillies already on the verge of tears. If she'd come to put the fear of God into them, it was already there. "We'll evaluate you both again at the end of this academic term, separately," she said, a hint of satisfaction coloring her tone. "And make sure you're both assigned where you deserve."

Chapter 23: Appearances

Derek hoped she would get to spend the rest of the day with Charlie. But Miss Sugarcane seemed determined not to let that happen, not after their bizarre test results. Never mind that they both carried adult level knowledge from another world.

Either out of spite or the genuine needs of the school, she didn't see Charlie again until school actually ended for the day. Only when they were all filing out of their classrooms, did she finally get her first glimpse of her old friend.

At least the pegasus didn't try to avoid her. She clearly knew as many of the students as Derek, and she was walking alone. Charlie looked up, saw Derek watching her, and instantly hurried over to join her. Together they walked out of the flow of traffic, into a hallway of old-fashioned metal lockers.

"I thought they kicked you out or something," Derek whispered, as soon as they had found somewhere quiet to talk. The flow of other students hurrying out was constant now—children were more dignified than they were out on the street, but they were still young. Anything they did would be hard to notice surrounded by so many others their age. "Where were you?"

Charlie shrugged. "Second floor. Lots of winged ponies up there. What they taught us was... very weather. Seemed a little weird for teaching kids, but what do I know? I'm not a teacher."

Derek nodded grimly. "I'm not sure they want to teach what really matters. The class they put me in was all about history, then there was one about etiquette. I hope they cover reading and writing in the mornings or something. I feel so stupid being illiterate."

The crowd was already starting to thin, and a few teachers were staring at them now. Derek stepped out into the main hall, and Charlie followed her. They still kept back from most, walking together. It meant they couldn't say anything of particular importance. At least nothing that would make them stand out.

"I don't know if you're interested in... seeing me anymore. It could be a long time before I make any new developments. As awful as it feels, going to school is gonna help. I need to learn this stuff, and Iris is only around sometimes to teach me."

Charlie didn't look away. "I should blame you for this. It is your fault. But staying mad isn't gonna help. Whatever it takes to get back, I'll be there. As much as they let me..." She leaned in, whispering directly into Derek's ears. "I think the pony that adopted you is way more important than the one that adopted me. I'm barely allowed to even talk to you. I have to ask for permission, I can't ever go over to your place."

"Really?" Her nose wrinkled in frustration. "I'll talk to Iris about it. If I have to invite you over, then we'll just do it that way. I know you weren't into magic before, but you have to admit it's real now, right? You can help me now."

They emerged through a set of wide-open doors, then out onto the streets of Willowbrook. There weren't too many students, maybe a hundred in all, and most of them dispersed into the town without hesitation. There were a few adults gathered here to wait. Not Iris, she was obviously much too important for something like that. But Risk was here, along with the same servant who had brought her to class in the first place. The house steward, his father.

Little Risk looked up instantly, nudging the pony beside him and pointing at her with one hoof. But Derek pretended not to see, at least for a little while longer.

"I dunno if I'll be very useful," Charlie said. "You don't need to ask if I believe, of course I do! It just all seems too advanced for me. Like... hard math you have to do. I can work out appreciation and compound interest. But if I was the one in charge of making sure we ended up in the right world, I'd be afraid I was gonna get us lost. Or... turned into something even worse."

"I can't think of what that would be," Derek muttered, tucking her tail between her legs. "Bugs maybe. We're tiny and useless and girls, but at least we're not bugs."

Charlie fell silent as Risk finally trotted over to them. He took one look at her, then turned away again. He must've been attending the school just like he said, because he had a uniform too. Even if his was a vest and bowtie, covering nothing and serving no purpose she could think of.

"Lilac, the carriage is here. We shouldn't keep it waiting."

She sighed, then waved. "Cya, Firefly. I'll talk to Lady Vale about having you over sometime. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie waved goodbye with one wing. "Let me know how it goes... Lilac. I don't think you'll need me, but I want to help if I can."

They left her there on the steps. There was nopony there for her, but Derek wouldn't let that distract her. Charlie was brave and capable, much more than she was. Maybe she just didn't need the help.

They walked down a short hill, passing old trees along cracked pavement. The buildings here were made of only the finest materials, surrounded by wrought iron fences. Even so, there was something... unwelcoming about them. Maybe it was the slightly overgrown look of the plants, or the dust preventing her from looking into their windows.

The carriage waited just at the bottom of the hill. There were no others—apparently no other student warranted that kind of personal attention.

The steward opened the door for her. His smile seemed genuine. The two workmen seemed eager to start pulling.

The steward didn't get inside the carriage himself, but shut the door behind her, sealing her alone into a space big enough for four. He climbed up onto an external bench near the front, along with his son. With a word of command, they started moving.

Derek gave up trying to sit comfortably in her stupid dress about ten seconds later. She wanted to tear the whole thing off, maybe wear one of those vests Risk had. She twitched and struggled for a few minutes, trying to reach far enough back to undo the collar. But she couldn't—this dress was so nice because it had to be put on with help. Or... by a unicorn. Derek simply wouldn't be able to remove it on her own.

"What are you doing?" Risk whispered through the window. She sat up suddenly, tucking her legs under her in her best attempt at sitting dignified.

"Nothing," she lied, staring back through the opening at him. But her mane was a mess, her tail caught uncomfortably under her. It wasn't a very convincing lie.

Risk frowned at her. He was silent for a few more seconds, watching the spot beside him. But here in Equestria, there were no headphones for his father to be wearing that would stop him from overhearing. There were no phones either, so she couldn't keep in touch with Charlie. "How did you like your first day at Whispering Willow?" he asked.

"I didn't see much of it," she said. "Mostly they had me in a boring room taking a dumb test. I don't have records to transfer from anywhere nearby, so I guess it makes sense. It's just annoying."

"That does sound boring," he admitted. "Normally Whispering Willow is very... challenging. The common families want to send their little fillies and colts there, but it always ends in failure. They just aren't able to... meet the school's high standards."

Derek rolled her eyes. Yes, it was definitely what kind of family the other ponies came from, and not the education they had before arriving there. Clearly those couldn't be connected at all. Equestria might be a whole new world, but the list of similarities grew a little longer all the time.

"I just hope they plan on teaching more magic. I don't care about how to put on dresses, or sit up straight, or remember the last names of ponies I've never met. That seems like such a waaaaste."

"Those are all important skills for a young mare of your station," the steward said, turning briefly to look at her. He could probably afford to look away from the "reins", considering the two guards pulling the cart were doing all the directing themselves. The extra seat was probably just to keep an important servant close to the noble pony they worked for.

"The Whispering Willow Academy is used to cases like yours—occasionally even the purest families produce an errant child of another tribe. And the obvious, there are plenty of ponies in Equestria who do not hold so strictly to the promises they make. I know it may seem dull to you now dear, but those lessons will serve you well into adulthood. If House Vale has no other heir, you will inherit it one day. It will be important for your sake and every other member of the household that you can serve as a good wife to whatever stallion that happens to be. Highborn ponies have high standards."

Her ears pressed flat to her head, tail tucking between her legs. She slid backward along the bench, until she was up against the wall, as far from the window as she could get. "That'll never happen. I'm not gonna grow up, and m-marry someone. That's so gross I... can't even..."

The steward smiled knowingly, turning away again. "You would not be the first to think such things. Speak to Lady Vale if you're troubled over it, young mistress. I promise it will not seem so unpleasant when the moment arrives."

She wanted to tell him—to spit in his face that she knew perfectly well all those mysteries of growing up he was so smug about. She wasn't upset for the reasons he thought.

But when she tried to come up with the reasons, she struggled to remember. There was something about being with other people that was desirable. She hadn't had a girlfriend when they came over like Charlie did. In the past, sure, but she hadn't been living with someone since University. Whatever was so interesting about it, obviously couldn't matter more than magical study. She kept learning magic, but hadn't kept dating.

"They should still teach me magic," she grumbled, folding her forelegs across her chest in frustration. "That's what I want to learn."

"They won't do that, silly." The steward didn't even look back at her this time. He spoke with amusement, like Derek might've done to one of her younger patients when they confessed some elaborate delusion to her. "You're only an earth pony, you can't learn magic. They wouldn't waste the teacher's time by putting you in a class like that."

There was no hostility in his voice, but each word might've been a blade aimed in her direction. She could barely even process what she was hearing. "But the mistress..." she argued. The words didn't want to come. "She said she would teach me..." But how much of that could she even say around strangers? The steward must know everything the family did, but there were the guards pulling her, and random ponies passing them on the street outside...

"The mistress might have meant the lore of magic," he continued. "Or maybe the history. It is a strange thing to imagine, but I suppose an earth pony could be a scholar. But without a horn, you could only ever read about it, never perform any of it yourself."

She sunk further into her seat, and didn't argue with him. It wasn't just that he was older, and sounded so confident in what he believed. He had no reason to lie, which meant there was no reason for her to hope.

Was she lying to keep me compliant? Iris Vale seemed so nice. But maybe that was an illusion too. Maybe she just said what Derek wanted to hear.

Chapter 24: Power Source

Iris wasn't waiting for her arrival back in the manor, of course. But when the steward headed off for important business, he left Risk to tend to Derek's needs. He held the door open for her, something she probably needed with such an elaborate dress restraining her. He didn't say anything to her until his father was well out of earshot down the hall.

"Only unicorns can do some magic," he said nervously. "But there's more kinds of magic out there than just making things float. Willowbrook is full of all kinds of magic things. Maybe you could use some of them."

She rounded on him. She definitely wasn't crying when she spoke. Her voice didn't crack, and she wasn't shaking in the stupid dress. "Why do you care?"

He twitched. "You do."

She glared back, but couldn't bring herself to argue. "Do you know anything about it? Somewhere I could go for... magic? Maybe I could get some. Where I come from, nobody has any on their own. You have to find a source, and collect it carefully to use in your spells."

"Maybe," he admitted. "Lots of places we're not supposed to go. Some of them have stories about magic. But you shouldn't go alone, they're dangerous. Places even old ponies don't go."

"I wouldn't go alone, I've got a friend who would wanna come..." That clearly wasn't the response he was looking for, though. "And you could come too!"

Very little happened the remainder of that day, except for one important conversation with Iris. They only spoke before evening, long enough for Derek to ask about having her friend visit.

The unicorn seemed to instantly realize who she wanted to see. "Now that you're attending Whispering Willow together, I see no reason why not," she said. "Before that, ponies might've asked awkward questions about how you would know each other."

"Didn't we arrive at the same time?" Derek asked nervously. "Don't they already know?"

At least they didn't keep her wearing that stupid dress all day. Now that she was home, Derek wore nothing at all. They still didn't have the boy stuff she would've wanted to wear, so she just didn't bother. Even the lady of the house didn't dress up most of the time.

She still had to wear bandages over the burns, though they'd gone from padding changed every few hours to a simple wrap they switched out only when she bathed.

"No," Iris explained. "Willowbrook at large knows nothing about your origin. Neither our family nor the stallion who adopted your companion will share specific details. If Equestria ever investigates too closely, they may discover you're ponies without an origin. That might persuade them to examine you magically."

She rested one hoof on Derek's shoulder, forcing her to meet her eyes. Never mind that the very mention of the word 'magic' made Derek tense. She now had reason to believe that Iris was lying to her, after all. She would take more time to figure out about what. "If something like that starts to happen, your Witnesses will try to intervene and protect you, divine one."

"What if you can't?" she asked, feebly. "What would happen?"

"They'll find your true power hidden beneath your small size, Lilac. The same magical power that let you face down one of the Outer Ones, and live. You have the magic of many ponies together, almost an Alicorn. If a doctor reported that discovery to Princess Celestia, and we could not stop them... you would be killed, your essence banished back to where you came from."

She let go. "I'm sorry, I know that's not something you want to think about. Your Witnesses will not let it happen if we can stop it. But it would be better for our safety and yours if you do everything you can to keep the secret hidden."

She remained silent for a few more minutes, subdued. "But I can still have Firefly over?"

"Whenever you desire," she replied. She made it to the bedroom door, before stopping there, looking back. "Okay, there may be times where you're needed for something else. My husband may make demands, and we will both be compelled to obey. Just don't put any undue pressure on her or her guardian. Make sure they understand it is only a request."

In a world without cell phones, without even an instant messenger, it took her a few more days to make the offer and get a response. Charlie was excited about the idea of a sleepover, and hopefully a chance to make some progress hunting for magic. She tried and failed to extract more information from Risk in the meantime. Once she mentioned her plan to go as soon as she could get a friend over, he clung to that idea, and refused to talk about it any earlier.

That only meant enduring an entire week of school, a week she spent tortured in various dresses, listening to lectures about historical subjects that made no sense to her, or learning which utensils to use when she ate. And most importantly, she was assigned a remedial reading class for one hour every other day.

This was the only time she saw Charlie, since apparently it was the only time the class was actually offered. It felt a bit like being stuck into a younger sports league, with students even smaller and younger than they were. Just as she imagined from that experience, the students in their class were already far ahead of her, and rubbed it in her face at every possible opportunity.

Let them laugh—for Derek, this was really just learning the written form of a language she already spoke. She already understood all the principles of written communication, it was just a matter of adapting them to a new language.

But a week wasn't long enough to make appreciable progress, not with an entire syllabary to memorize. She took the worksheets home and put them up in her bedroom, along with a few of the low-level children’s books she could find in the Vale library. Until Derek mastered the language, she would be at the mercy of others to tell her things. Given she didn't trust Iris anymore, she found that arrangement completely unacceptable.

The weekend finally came, and with it Charlie over for a visit. Her adoptive pony “father” walked her all the way to the gates, where Derek and one of the house servants met them. Not Iris herself—she wasn't even on the grounds, so far as Derek knew. Not even the steward.

She had a little saddlebag with a blanket rolled up sticking from one side. There wasn't much else—it wasn't like she'd need a change of clothes. Being a pony did have some advantages.

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon," said the stallion. He seemed nice enough, though there was something subtly off about him to Derek. "Remember sweetie, don't—"

"Don't try to fly on my own," Charlie repeated, exasperated. She opened her wings demonstratively, snapping them closed against her sides again. "I won't, promise."

"Good filly," he said. Then he looked to the servant—a random housekeeper, no one of any importance. She was only here because Derek needed somepony to open the gate for them. "She's so impatient to practice. But unless there's somepony around who can go with her, it's not safe." He lowered his voice, though it didn't work to stop them from hearing. "I know she looks like she should. She's a little underdeveloped for her age."

Charlie groaned, hiding behind Derek and glaring through the gate at him. "I said I'd keep the rules! You don't need to tell them that."

"Right, sorry." He waved with one wing. "Have fun!" He turned, but didn't walk away. Instead he took off, leaping right up into the air and angling back to town. I bet wings could let you go all over in just a few minutes. If I wasn't gonna have magic, couldn't I get those? None of this was fair.

"I, um..." Charlie began, staring directly at Derek. She turned, confused, but saw what had caught the little pony's attention. She was staring at the bandages on her back and neck. "Are you okay?"

"Now, yes," she said. "Last week was rough. I'm healing up pretty good now." She leaned forward, taking Charlie's foreleg with one of hers. "Come on! You have to see this place, it's amazing!"

She scampered up the lane, past the old fountains and hedge-maze, then through the huge double-doors into the mansion. The one following them gave up after a short distance—once they were inside, the maid probably returned to her duties. That was just fine for Derek, since she didn't want to be overheard anyway.

"You live here?" Charlie asked, indignant. She stopped in the entryway, staring up at a huge suit of pony armor. It was frozen in display, beside an oversized tapestry depicting an ancient, stern-looking stallion. "No way!"

Derek giggled. "Well I don't live down here." She tugged her up the stairs, and met far less resistance as they went. Charlie seemed far too intimidated by the vast scope of it all to wander off in any of the nearby directions. They reached her bedroom without much trouble, with Risk waiting beside it. Technically he was her personal servant for the day, without Iris around. Practically, she never asked him to do anything unless an adult was around who expected her to.

He still opened the door for them, holding it open.

Charlie slowed just inside, watching him. "Wait a minute. I think we're in a... gym class together. You're Little Risk!"

He flicked his tail in annoyance. His mane was still unusually short, but otherwise there were no signs of their misfortune of the previous week on him. "Profound observation, Firefly. We are in class together. I can't imagine why."

"Be nice," Derek snapped. "This is my friend, Firefly. We're from the same place, Risk. We've been friends longer than you've been alive, so..."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure. Shorter, no cutie marks, but you're older? Horseapples."

"How much does he know?" Charlie asked. She circled slowly around the room, staring at everything. She seemed amazed by the size of the bed, the closet full of clothes—everything, really.

"What kind of question is that?" Risk replied. "Is there a secret I'm not being told, Lilac?"

Lots, but Iris told me not to share. Even if she did, he wouldn't believe. "Lots, but that's not why we're here. You were gonna tell us where to find some magic, remember?"

Charlie set her saddlebags down by the window. There was a second bed in here now, rolled in for the occasion. It was far smaller, the sort actually made to fit someone their age. Hopefully no servant was going without a bed for this.

"We don't need extra help," he said. "I know how to find it. We don't need her help."

Charlie opened both wings, glaring back at him. "What are you scared of, Little Risk?"

Derek stepped between them before that argument could get started. She faced away from Charlie, glaring at Risk. "Tell us about where we're going. Is it that far away? I don't think we can get away with camping... Iris always checks on me in the evening."

He glanced at the entrance, then the door clicked shut. Something emerged from inside his vest, a little roll of paper. He unrolled it in the air in front of them, turning it so they could see. It showed a map of the grounds, though the mansion was a small square on an oversized diagram of farmhouses and access-roads. The part marked was further away from the house than the house was from Willowbrook itself.

"There are creatures living out there in the woods—I mean, lots of things live out there. But these are supposed to have lots of magic. So long as you're friendly, they're pretty nice. My family never wants me to ever go there. It's on the map of things never to do no matter what."

"Sounds perfect," Derek said, staring at the map. It wasn't just the one area on here—it was dense with dozens of little notes. Many things were highlighted, and text was scrawled in every little opening. Pity she couldn't read any of it. "Bit of a walk. Let's grab some snacks and get going."

"Okay..." Charlie said, skeptical. "But if there's a waterfall out there and a magic spell, I'm turning around."

Chapter 26: Little Problems

Derek squeaked quietly, settling down onto her haunches. She wasn't the brave wilderness-explorer that Charlie used to be, this was all new to her. Everybody knew what you were supposed to do when you got lost: she should stop and wait for rescue.

The ground was uneven under her hooves—hopefully she was on the path. If she wandered off...

"Firefly!" she yelled. Her voice didn't carry the way it should've, like it was being actively muffled by so many leaves. She shouted again, louder. "Firefly? Risk? Where are you!?"

The undergrowth rustled around her. Bright flowers emerged in the space around the path, bright purples. They almost matched her coat, but they weren't lilacs. "Where is everyone?" She rose, circling around herself. "They were right behind me!"

She stopped to listen, ears straining for even the smallest sound. Maybe they'd slipped into something, like a ravine concealed along the path. They might be shouting for help, far beneath.

She listened carefully. At first she heard nothing at all, until something cut through the sound of rustling leaves. There was a set of... wings! Tiny, even smaller than a dragonfly. Her ears really were that good!

She spun, even though the sound would be completely useless to her. Charlie had wings, but they wouldn't sound like that!

Something landed in front of her, touching down delicately on the head of a huge flower. She thought it must be a butterfly at first, at least for a split-second. But her eyes rebelled against that impression. It had the right kind of wings, but the body was... wrong.

She stared, mouth falling open. It looked like a pony, from its four legs right down to the little face and big eyes. Its huge wings were shaped like a butterfly's, but transparent like a dragonfly. For once, there was a creature that wouldn't look down on her.

"Hi there," she said, voice still cracked and tearful. No matter what she wanted to think, this must obviously just be an insect. Nothing smart could be that small. But the rules were clear about butterflies. "I'm trying to figure out what you are. You're so small... I thought I was tiny."

Up close, the creature was even cuter than she imagined. Its limbs had different proportions, its legs were longer, its body smaller, and there was a huge puff of fluff around its chest. She couldn't even guess what its sex might be, not down at that size.

"That's no way to make acquaintance with a perfect stranger now, is it?" said the bug. Its voice was small, but the grove was so peaceful and quiet that she could somehow still hear it clearly. "Yer hardly much of a thing yourself, girl."

She blushed, tucking her tail between her legs. Proof or not, Derek was positive the bug knew exactly what it meant when it said things like that.

The speaker struck her as slightly more masculine than feminine, but its voice was at least two octaves higher than her own. Nearly at the edge of the range she could even comfortably understand. "I'm sorry." Her ears folded flat on her head, and she stared down at her hooves. "I didn't think..." She hesitated. Telling them she didn't think they could be a person was probably not the best approach. "Have you seen my friends?"

"Maybe." The bug lifted up into the air in front of her, buzzing a slow circle around her face. She backed slightly away from it, so she wouldn't bump into it by mistake. It was so close she could smell it—the nectar of flowers she'd never experienced before. "Maybe I have. Why should I tell you where they are, hmm? I bet you can't even tell me what you are."

"You're any different?" she snapped, before she could stop herself. "I don't know what you are."

The bug stopped right in front of her, so close that part of him vanished behind her muzzle. "Don't confuse your ignorance. I'm a breezie, and you are... something that shouldn't exist. Or it shouldn't exist again."

"Confounding," said another voice, from nearby. This one was just as small, though Derek imagined it was slightly more feminine. Another bug appeared from out of the forest. She was soon joined by several others, with fluff as diverse in color as any of the ponies of Willowbrook.

"Impossible," said a third voice.

"Perplexing!"

A cloud of little wings circled around her, blurring with colors and voices that all melted into each other until she couldn't tell them apart. Only that first bug, with their distinct yellow coat, managed to remain clear to her through the crowd. He was watching her, while all the others were only playing with her. "You're not wrong," she finally squeaked. "I don't know what I am. I look like a little horse, but I'm not one. Can you tell me?"

The bugs stopped in place. A few of them drifted to either side, clinging to branches and leaves of nearby plants. More just hovered there, wings beating so rarely she couldn't imagine how they stayed airborne. "Spoken like a fairy," said the first one, levitating just in front of her again. "It's good to speak the truth to strangers, some might turn into your friends. They need to know if they can trust what you speak. So good of you not to lie. Trouble with the truth is, it feels like you never say anything."

"Words of a contract!" squeaked one of the little ones from just beside her. "So precise! But what does it mean? Ponies can't tell. Mortal ears don't listen. They just want the crops to grow. They want their sick cows to get better. They want to find fish out in the sea."

"Noble pursuits of pollen and steam!" said another.

"What do you think you are?" the first bug asked. "We know you mean only the truth by your answer. If that is what you mean. We'll know otherwise."

Derek's tail tucked between her legs again, embarrassed. There was a truthful answer to that question, and there was the one that wouldn't completely embarrass her. But if she was ever going to keep secrets, this probably wasn't the place. How would fairies react if she tried to lie?

"I'm from another world," she said. "It's my fault I'm here, and I dragged my friend along with me. There's a... little pegasus, she was here. And a unicorn boy, none of this is his fault. He just wanted to help me."

"Back to the city," said a voice from overhead. She couldn't keep all the little bugs straight. Even the male hadn't given her a name. It's just like summoning things in the book. Don't share names. It didn't ask for mine, and I didn't get one.

"We might show you," said the male. "But first, one more question, then we decide. What world did you come from? Distant sorceress, defiance of boundaries, torn veil. Where did you fly from?"

There was only one correct answer to that. "Somewhere like this, and also different. Somewhere with only one tribe, where no creature in the world has any magic, where survival is a contest my species won. We killed every threat we could find, and maybe one day ourselves too."

The bugs whispered, buzzing around her again. Their amusement was gone. Now those voices were afraid.

"You want to go back to that place, traveler? Honestly?"

She nodded. "I had a life back there. And my friend, Firefly, she doesn't belong here. I should've got caught up in all this alone. She was just there to support me, because she... thought I was insane. I basically stole her whole life. I want to give it back."

"Back!" the fairies repeated, in high voices she could barely understand. Except for the one she was speaking to.

"You came for our blessing. You want to fly a path that isn't. No magic, no life. They are the same, little traveler. Where life grows, magic must flow—out of air and into birds and flowers and ponies. So much together in ponies, so wasteful—but you are like a dozen lives in one. They bound up power in you, traveler. There's no power we could give you that you don't already have."

The air shimmered around them, and suddenly Derek was standing somewhere else. She wanted to use the word “city” until she saw exactly how small it was. The buildings were trees, with little windows and doors clustered up and down like skyscrapers. A garden of many flowers grew between them, without a single road or path. There were a few bridges, connecting nearby buildings to each other and forming patios where the little fairies could stand.

There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them here, moving so quickly together that they might as well be a single creature. There were others here—Charlie and Risk. They stood in a circle of mushrooms near the center—or rather, they were trapped inside. Occasionally Risk smacked his hoof up against open air, and recoiled in pain.

Derek hadn't been trapped like them. Bugs turned to look at her, and their faces were too small to read their emotions. Surprise, anger, maybe eagerness to see what would happen to her.

"I know you would only tell me the truth," she said to the bug who had brought her. "So that must be true. But I can't believe you have nothing to teach me. The others have magic—they can fly, they can cast real spells without needing to mark with runes first! I can't do that. I can't do anything."

"You don't know how to do anything," the bug corrected. "That is true. But you can't, that is not. You began by speaking the truth, why can't you end that way?"

"I don't know how," she repeated. "Can't you show me? I want to learn. I have to find my way home, and I don't know how. Maybe nobody does, I'm not sure."

"We can't teach you that," said the little bug. "We know how to go to places that are places, not a void that devours everything that lives. Our magic is the flowers, the seasons, the storms. You could learn these, if you accept the price."

"I don't like the sound of this, Lilac," Charlie said. She might be a fairy-city block away, but from the size of a normal pony, it was only a few feet. "That's a bad contract! You have to read the fine print!"

Derek might be desperate, but she wasn't stupid. "What's the price of your help?"

"Rules," the bug answered. "That's what power always costs—get a little, but give a little of yourself. Ponies can do anything they want—they could even cut down the forests, burn the wildflowers, poison the rivers. They probably won't, but they could. I think you already know a little bit about that though, don't you? All that power bound up inside, like a little Alicorn without any wings. There's already a lot you can't do, and probably some things you have to do."

He floated down, sticking out one of those little hooves towards hers. He hovered there in the still air, watching her with two gigantic eyes. "Promise and we'll teach you to listen to the flowers, but you can't uproot them. Promise, and the fair folk will hear you, but you better not forget them. Swear, and we will make it true."

"And you let us go afterwards? My friends go home with me?"

"Either way," the little fairy answered. "We didn't want to harm them, or they would be harmed. We just wanted to talk alone. Ponies make each other talk."

She considered that. It was the stupidest thing she could possibly do, at least since her attempt to gather magic out in the forest. She was basically doing the same thing now. There's power in me. They probably want to use it for themselves. But would that be so bad? She'd seen Princess Mononoke—nature was never the bad guy.

"How?"

Charlie smacked her hoof into her face. Risk bounced up and down, hyperventilating. But they couldn't stop her.

"My name is Saffron," he said, touching her hoof with his. "What's yours?"

She hesitated for a second, then spoke. "Derek Ashsen." It didn't even hurt.

Chapter 27: Marked

Charlie wasn't sure what it might take to make the magic that would take them home. Equestria didn't follow the rules she had grown up with. When someone said something was “magic” here, they didn't mean it was an impossible myth, they usually meant it was particularly powerful or dangerous.

"I should've known this would happen." She sat unhappily inside a prison of mushrooms and soft grasses, staring out at her friend. She couldn't really see what Derek was doing anymore—the little earth pony had walked too far, vanishing behind the trees of the fairy village. They hadn't thrown her into prison with them, which was probably a good sign... but they hadn't let her and Little Risk out yet, either. "She always gets like this—once she's fixated on something, it doesn't matter how stupid it is. Lilac has to get it."

Risk lay on his belly near the other side of the prison, eyes closed and ears flat against his head. He seemed... embarrassed? His smell was more complicated than that, but she still hadn't learned to read those. The other pegasus girls were getting easier, but she didn't spend time with any unicorns. "They didn't hurt us. That's better than some of the stories. They say if you kill a tree, the flutterponies make you take its place."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we followed the rules," she groaned, annoyed. "That's probably why they didn't do anything worse to us. I wish they'd let us go..."

Whatever they were—pixies, fairies, unknowable horrifying creatures—they had a constant audience of dozens floating around the little cage, always watching. Charlie stared back at them, sticking her tongue out at a little pink and white one. It flew nervously away, vanishing into the trees with a little squeak of nervous fear.

"They won't keep us here," Risk said. "They can't lie, that's part of how they work. They told Lilac that they were going to let us go. As soon as they finish with her, we'll get to leave." He groaned, covering his face with his forelegs. "She wasn't supposed to say yes!"

"What did you think would happen?" Charlie asked, indignant. "Coming here was your idea. Did you expect Lilac to just give up?"

"I wasn't sure they were real," he admitted. "The flutterponies, they're a story. There are so many stories about Willowbrook, and you can't know which ones are real and which ones are just stories. If we didn't find anything... that wouldn't be bad. And if we did, Lilac would get the magic she wanted."

He winced. "If Mistress Vale finds out I was the one who led her here... I don't even know what she'll do to me."

"Guess you better hope Lilac is okay," Charlie said. "Good, we're on the same side there." Some part of her, the deepest, selfish part, felt a little hope. She wasn't the one who had to make a deal with unknowable creatures hiding out in the woods. Maybe Derek would actually learn what she needed to get them home! It couldn't make it worse, could it?

She wouldn't have to wait for much longer. Her friend walked back, dodging around the flowers and the little bug-creatures living on them. At first Charlie didn't think there was anything different about her.

Risk was a little more observant, or maybe he was just staring at her butt. "You got your cutie mark! Out here?"

"Oh, uh... yeah, I guess." Derek sounded different... it was hard to say exactly how. She was as high-pitched as ever, but somehow... contented? "I was wrong to think that earth ponies didn't have magic. Your dad was wrong too, Risk. How could ponies think something so silly?"

Risk wasn't wrong about the mark. Charlie let herself stare, even if she felt incredibly awkward doing it. A bunch of tiny flowers, grown into the shape of a butterfly. "Woah. Those are... aren't those a big deal here? Cutie marks are like... your name or something."

"Your name?" Risk rose to his hooves, staring at her. "How do you not know what a cutie mark is? They're your special talent! They show a pony what their purpose is. They help you... Even the tyrant respects cutie marks."

"We're allowed to leave now," Derek said. She reached out with one hoof, crossing the mushroom circle. There was a little flash of blue light from the ground, and Charlie guessed the barrier was gone.

She tested it with one hoof, and found nothing stopped her. She stepped out eagerly, opening her wings to full size. She didn't have enough room to open them both at once in there, she was starting to get sore.

The fairies lifted out of their way, retreating from around the barrier and up into the trees. Charlie could still feel their watchful eyes on her, but at least their bodies didn't get too close. They watched from safely out of reach, whispering to each other like the crowd at a play.

"What are you going to tell Mistress Vale?" Risk asked. "Everypony in Vale Manor will whisper when you get back. There will be a cutescinera and everything..."

"What they need to know," Derek said. She seemed to know where she was going now, gesturing past them towards the edge of the fairy settlement. Charlie couldn't tell one direction from another in here, or guess at how they'd even arrived in the first place. "My promises aren't hers. If you don't mention all this... it will probably be easier. Maybe she'll figure it out, or maybe not. Hopefully not."

But she had no reason to doubt Derek now, and she followed. The unicorn hurried to keep up, walking in Derek's exact trail.

She was probably imagining things, but Derek seemed a little bigger, too. "Did you find what you were hoping for?" Charlie asked. They walked past the last of the trees, then through a particularly stubborn wall of undergrowth. She had to follow behind Derek, or else it would push against her so painfully it was probably leaving scratches in her coat.

Derek didn't seem to notice at all. "I found... magic," she said. "Not what we were looking for, though." She didn't stop until they emerged on open ground—gravel in fact, a patch of well-developed trail. She held the bushes sideways for them, then let go and let them spring back into place. "But they told me things, Firefly. Things that don't make sense."

"Like?"

Risk crowded in close to listen. So they wouldn't be able to talk about it now. Charlie rolled her eyes, wings falling slack to either side. She'd just have to wait until tonight. It was a sleepover, after all. Risk wouldn't be sharing their bedroom. There were rules about putting boys and girls together, even if she couldn't quite remember why.

But Derek didn't wait. "They said that our home was... unsafe. That nothing should be able to live there. That's why it was chosen... it was supposed to kill some monster that used to live here in Equestria a long time ago. Saffron wouldn't tell me anything else, but I think he might know more."

"They're just wrong, that's all," she said, waving both wings dismissively. She looked up, but couldn't see the sun overhead. It was still light enough, which meant it was probably late afternoon. How long had they been trapped? "It doesn't matter what the locals think about—" She felt a brief stab of pain, stopping her from saying the name. "Where we came from. We were there!"

They walked back through the forest, much more subdued than they had been on their way out. Even Risk didn't question them much, at least not until they'd finally left the trees behind and were back on a road through farmland.

Out here, Charlie could see the sun hanging low in the sky, already staining the clouds bright orange and red. So they had spent the whole day, somehow. So much for having the time to catch up with her friend after a few weeks apart.

"What did they teach you in there, anyway?" Risk asked. "I heard some of what you asked at first. You wanted to learn magic. But earth ponies don't cast spells."

Derek turned, expression distant at first. She seemed to struggle to focus on him, like someone lost in thought. She obviously didn't consider this particular interruption worthwhile.

"A spell is just one kind of magic," she said. "I learned another before I even came to Equestria. Ritual. Then there's other kinds—there are potions, made from herbs, and contracts made with... forces. Your dad is right, so is Iris and everypony else who whispers about me. I'm doomed, I'll never be able to learn a 'spell.' But that's okay—runners can be skilled athletes without learning how to climb. The best swimmers in the world would probably do really bad in a high jump. I can be good, or even great, without ever needing to cast a spell."

Charlie listened in silence. She knew as Risk couldn't possibly yet that the best way to get anything out of Derek was to prompt her with something vague and listen. She'd want to fill that silence, and justify everything she did. The little unicorn didn't give them the chance.

"It isn't going to stop you from going with me, once we do get it figured out?" she asked. "The thing you did back there—I don't want you getting trapped here when I go home. No one left behind; we're getting home together, or not at all."

"That won't trap me," Derek promised. "I did agree to other things, and I'll do them. But don't worry about me, none of it is that bad. Think about how hard life would be if you were that small, you might want someone big to stop by and help with stuff every now and then. They trust earth ponies the most anyway—we know the land the same way they do, I guess. We don't try to control it like unicorns or blow them away with storms the way pegasus ponies do. An arrangement like this is... natural."

She sounds just like she did back on Earth talking about this stuff. A strange, impossible to believe hobby. Except that Charlie had clearly seen it for herself, so she would have to believe it. Instead of mocking, she had every reason to be afraid.

"Can they teach you how to get us home?" Charlie asked. "Or will they just tell us when the flowers bloom and what mushrooms are poison and whether to plant corn this year or barley?"

Derek grinned at her, the first familiar expression she'd seen since exiting that fairy glade. "They're going to teach me what they know. I don't have to rely on just fairies—I live in House Vale, remember? The library is full of magic."

Charlie knew what that implied, even if her friend wasn't willing to say it. This isn't a shortcut. We won't be making it back to Earth earlier than I said.

"Years," she squeaked. "Everyone thinks we're dead, everything is sold, we're basically forgotten."

"Yeah," Derek said. "I'm sorry."

"You two are so weird," Risk muttered. "Seriously, Lilac. It's not normal for little ponies to talk like you."

She shrugged. "I'm not really a..." She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the mark on her rump. "Okay, that's not true anymore. I guess I am a pony. It's official."

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Derek pushed it closed with one hoof, smiling up at her. "Don't think you'll get out of it, Firefly. Give it a few more months. You'll get stuck with one of these too, pacts with fairies or no pacts."

Charlie didn't argue. Derek was probably right.

Chapter 28: Skyward

Charlie did everything she could to be supportive, as much as any friend could. But Derek didn't get them home anytime in the next few weeks. The more time passed, the further divorced they grew from the reality they'd left behind—a few months, and all their possessions would be sold. A year, and their loved ones had already mourned their passing.

That didn't mean Charlie stopped reminding her. She still wanted to get her old body back, and return to her old life. People had gone missing before, and rebuilt from worse. She needed some hope, and a goal. Otherwise, she would probably keel over and give up. She needed something driving her.

Months turned to years in Willowbrook. Charlie's gliding turned to flight, she mastered pony writing, and got pretty good at cooking for herself without hands. Most importantly, she made friends—with the other flying ponies like Sunbeam and River Breeze.

Word was already out that they were different, marked somehow. Most of the other students at Whispering Willow didn't know or appreciate what that meant, but the other adults did. That took many forms—some people were just afraid to talk to them, quietly shooing them away whenever they were nearby, or falling awkwardly silent in public.

For others, it meant a strange respect, with citizens offering Charlie free food or stuff when she walked into the city's shops. She wasn't going to say no—she might not understand much better than the locals what her presence in Willowbrook meant, but she knew she'd had everything stolen. A little free stuff and ponies being nice to her was the least they could do.

As one year turned into two, Charlie saw other things start to change. Old buildings got bulldozed, and a huge section of the skeletal wood got cleared to make room for rows of identical houses. She joined in with the other kids, whispering of how strange and weird it would be to have “outsiders” moving in. Why was this allowed?

Dusty couldn't tell her, though it did seem like his fortunes were improving too. They bought the other apartments on the top floor of their building, giving him whole rooms he could use to store his excess furniture while the part of the house Charlie lived in actually had space to walk around, or bring over her friends for sleepovers.

Not that she would ever admit to wanting anything like that. She just had the best environment, since Dusty usually got out of their way early in the night. They had enough pillows to build the most epic cloud-forts.

Just like that, and an entire year in another world was already gone. Somethings didn't change—she still couldn't say much about where she'd come from, no matter how badly she wanted to tell her new friends the truth.

But other things did; it wasn't so bad that other ponies called her Firefly. If she was going to be stuck in the body of a stupid horse alien, at least she could be a stupid horse alien with wings.

Another year went by, and still they were in Equestria. Lilac kept studying, though Firefly's faith in her began to wane. It didn't matter that her knowledge of magic grew in other ways—rewarding and interesting for her still wouldn't bring them home.

Firefly brought in a few blank books, and started keeping a journal. Not what happened to her in Equestria, but everything she could possibly remember about the world she came from. As it turned out, she could write a great deal, so long as she was careful about how.

She could use the names of others, but not herself. She couldn't write her address, but she could describe the kind of house she lived in. She couldn't name the girl she'd been dating, but she could talk about their first date, and how many kids they wanted.

She kept the growing volumes tucked away under her bed, where Dusty wouldn't find them by accident. She also used English, a dense, hard-to-write script compared to the simple glyphs of pony writing, which lent themselves to easy scribbling even by mouth.

She wasn't particularly smart, or maybe she would've kept an index, writing things only once. Instead she rambled, describing memories from her childhood, friend she'd made, the kind of person she used to be.

Firefly didn't have the power to make a doorway home, but at least she could get things recorded. With each page she scribbled with her mouth, her memories got stronger. Did wonders for improving her handwriting, too.

Over the next few years, it wasn't always easy to remember where she'd come from. The faces of her family sometimes felt fuzzy, and she wasn't good enough with her pen to sketch them. Sometimes she'd write something about her little sister, and realize she'd used the word “mare” or “everypony” somewhere on the page.

She got taller, her wings got bigger. Lilac's magic got better, so much that Firefly could no longer follow much of what she said. She usually found her friend surrounded by books in her adoptive mother's library, or else stalking around the workshop getting things made for her. None of it made any sense to Firefly, but she trusted her friend when she said that it would help them get home one day.

"It's a process of mastery," she would say, usually wearing a pair of goggles or maybe a work-jacket. "I think I'm closing in on something. Just be patient for a little longer, I'll figure this out."

Then she would start explaining something extremely smart-sounding. She looked cute doing it, but Firefly just didn't know how to help her. She tried to learn, tried reading some of the same books, but she just didn't have a mind for it. Learning magic was like learning calculus for her, it just wasn't going to happen.

Besides—between helping Lilac's magical research and studying weather magic in Whispering Willow, she had just enough time left over to work with her dad in the sky. Now that was something she could really put her heart into.

Well, “work” was the way she talked about it to her friends. "Exploring a lost world of unimagined secrets" was what it really was.

It meant getting up early in the morning, but it was still worth it.

"Up in five!" Dusty said, banging on her bedroom door. He didn't let himself in anymore, not since she got her cutie mark. So there were plenty of little things to be grateful for. She could've ended up with a way worse pony adopting her.

During her first few months in Equestria, waking up at sunrise had been agonizing. But these days, she was on her hooves in a few seconds, and straight into the shower.

She still didn't have warm water in the house, but she hardly noticed. Her mane was longer now, so that was several minutes of careful grooming and attention. But she hadn't been adopted by the most important mare in Willowbrook, she couldn't just walk outside with her mane a mess and expect ponies to take her seriously. Firefly had to look the part.

There were a dozen little cheats ponies used to cope with their physical limitations. Like mounting a brush up against the wall, so she could brush her mane without needing to hold it. She did the same thing with makeup, when she wore any.

It wasn't much—ponies didn't wear nearly as much as humans, but despite their fur they did use some. Enough to make the cheeks seem paler perhaps, or outline the eyes in a particular way.

Firefly still didn't really know what she was doing there either, but having friends her own age helped. She was learning.

Lastly she tossed on a scarf, and a pair of light cloth saddlebags. They were completely empty, though both sides could expand to hold a lot if they had to. That was the whole point of her dad's work, and now her own.

"Ready, sweetheart?" he asked, from the other side of the bathroom door. "You know we only have an hour up there."

She stepped out the open door a few seconds later, glaring weakly at him. "I know. But I still need to sleep, Dad. We can't all run on spite and pineapple juice."

He grinned, holding a little glass bottle towards her. It was pineapple juice.

She tore off the wax cap, then downed it in a few long sips. The rush of sugar would give her the energy she needed for a brief flight. It wasn't good to overeat before such an intense athletic endeavor.

She tossed it aside, then followed him out onto the balcony.

In a few years, her dad had barely changed. But that didn't surprise her; ponies lived a long time. He was still the stronger flyer, and so he carried all the tools. Heaviest of these was a camera he wore around his neck, probably worth as much as their entire apartment. "See it up there? It's a big one today."

She looked up. That gesture alone stimulated related instincts—she opened both wings, feeling the wind passing over her feathers and judging the day's conditions. Quite the breeze today, blowing fast enough to make the morning's task tricky.

The slowly spreading orange of sunrise illuminated their destination, passing overhead towards the mountains. This was the reason Willowbrook had clouds most days of the year—the great Equestrian Central Gyre that brought currents from all directions, carrying abandoned cloud structures from the whole world to die here.

And before they did, ponies like her could explore them.

Today the sky was thick with clouds, diffusing the sunrise. It was rare to be able to tell which were structures and which were just natural clouds from the bottom. That meant a long flight up.

She galloped along the balcony, taking off only before she reached the edge. Sure she could take off straight up, but that just didn't feel as fun. The burst of speed on the ground made her curve into a gentle vertical arc, trailing a long ponytail of mane behind her.

Flying wasn't easy, even after a few years of practice. After just a few seconds, her muscles started to ache, protesting the exertion she required. But now that pain was a familiar thing, like an old friend welcoming her up into the air. Besides, if she was going to work out anyway, she might as well get it on her way into the sky.

Dusty passed her after about a minute of flying. Despite his age and experience, he didn't fly like the other pegasi she knew. He just sorta... lifted up, fighting the current directly instead of tucking his legs and using the air to his advantage.

Somehow he could still fly past her most days. She pulled her legs in closer, flying in a tight upward spiral. The village of Willowbrook fell further and further away, becoming a charming little model town of old-fashioned houses, distant fields, and the cookie-cutter development of Brookside. Sometimes she spat on them, but not today.

She was coming up on the clouds from below now. There was a technique to breaking through clouds, at least when you were a pegasus. She counted carefully, then tucked her wings sharply against her sides at exactly the right moment, breaking through from below with her head. It was especially important she keep her legs underneath, or else she'd hit the clouds like a snowbank instead of a patch of floating moisture. That could lead to a spectacular, albeit not usually painful, crash.

Today she did it perfectly. The clouds parted from around her, and she opened her wings again, soaring upward another few dozen meters. She dodged around stretches of white, until she found somewhere clear to float in the sky, looking down.

She whistled, coming to a stop just beside her dad. "Where do you think this came from?"

He shrugged. "Orange and black—not sure what city uses those colors. Might be the oldest building we've done in a long time."

It was also one of the largest. Like a military fort, complete with crenellated walls, round towers, and a drawbridge. All made from the clouds, with frayed and tattered banners hanging over the ramparts. As with all ruins, this one was starting to warp and fade at the edges. There were holes in the walls, and the fort at its center had an opening in the ceiling.

"How long do you think we have?" she asked.

"Longer than most," Dusty said. "But not long enough to get careless. Come on." He didn't dive like other pegasi either, just dropped vertically down towards the opening.

That gave Firefly the advantage this time. She dove past him, giggling at his shouts to slow down. She would be the first one in this time.

Author's Note

Merry Christmas! No special chapter or anything--I've never really been one for holiday gimmicks. But if you're reading this on the day of release, I hope you're having a peaceful holiday.

And if not... at least there's this chapter?

Chapter 29: Cumulus Maze

Every trip into the Cumulus Maze was a new mystery, taking her somewhere that ponies hadn't seen for years, or maybe even centuries. Sometimes that meant unknown dangers, left behind in an age when the ponies still fought wars against each other. Sometimes that just meant getting crushed under collapsing cloud structures, trapped until her dad could come around to dig her out.

Rarest of all, sometimes it meant finding treasures from the past, things her father could sell to interested buyers in museums and wealthy families across Equestria, paying their rent for another few months and letting them do other nice things. Each new dress or accessory in Firefly's cabinet had come after a trip like this, and some new and interesting discovery.

Even after about a year of going up with her dad, some discoveries could still stop Firefly in her tracks, amazed by the weight of time crashing down on her.

She flew through an ancient fortress. This was nothing like the stage armor pony guards wore now, so thin it couldn't stop an arrow or deflect a sword. This place was old, and clearly well-used.

The open armory had suits of armor, along with lances and strange metal things a pony could wear on their wings. Blades? Firefly slowed as she passed a wall of ancient portraits, staring back into the faces of ponies long dead. Most had faded beyond recognition, or else been created with materials that didn't survive well in a rotting sky-building. But a few were recognizable, and appeared almost lifelike to her eyes.

"This is a find!" Dusty said, crossing the room with sudden intensity. "Why don't you check the downstairs, Firefly. I'll sort through this. I think Los Pegasus was looking for artifacts to populate a few fresh exhibits..."

She nodded, dropping to the ground in front of an open doorway leading down. Every time she did, Firefly felt a brief flicker of dread—this was just a cloud, and she was going to pass through it, falling to her doom in the sky below. But just like every other time, her hooves touched against the cloud as though it were a polished marble floor.

The Cumulus Maze wasn't exactly safe, but Firefly knew on some level that Dusty scouted the buildings first, and only invited her on days that didn't worry him. Only truly magical traps could last for any length of time in an environment like this, and those could be sensed from the outside if you practiced.

Besides, if she ever felt uncomfortable, Charlie could buck her way through a wall and out into the open sky. Clouds were solid only so long as the magic forming them held together—that was magic a pegasus could dissolve.

Even so, she walked carefully down the steps, avoiding sections of cloud that had collapsed or eroded. She didn't need a flashlight. Even without the regular holes, the rising sun shone through the walls, filling every room with a diffuse glow.

It's too bad Dusty doesn't want to live in one of these, she thought, for perhaps the ten-thousandth time. Every pegasus friend she had lived above town, in cloud-houses they crafted or commissioned. So long as they didn't keep persistent shade over anyone's fields, they could basically build whatever they wanted. But no, we have to live in a lopsided apartment that might fall over if too many ponies stand on one side of the building for too long.

Firefly passed mostly empty rooms, or sections where the cloud had collapsed entirely. These opened to a drop down to Willowbrook far below, so far away that her eyes could barely even focus on it. But Firefly wasn't afraid of heights anymore; that fear lasted about as long as it took her to get confident with her wings.

But at the end of the hall, she finally found something interesting: a locked door. It probably would've resisted her well when it was new, but these clouds were too old for that. Older than Equestria itself, maybe. She shoved her shoulder up against it, making a big enough hole that she could pry the clouds apart with her hooves. Once the shape was interrupted, the whole formation dissolved from under her, and she could step inside.

The room beyond hadn't been emptied like so many others. It also didn't look military—maybe it belonged to the noble pony who had commanded the fortress? It still had a fine four-poster bed, with a real blanket covered in cloud and pegasus patterns.

But most interesting to her was the open wardrobe, still filled with ancient clothes. Firefly didn't know how magical they had to be to survive this long, and she didn't care. Something in sun-yellow fabric caught her eye, drawing her attention all the way to the end. It was a gown, finer than anything she'd ever owned. Bright yellow and orange, in colors that complemented her own perfectly. The style was unplaceable in modern Equestria, a ballgown of sorts, though it had openings at the back for wings.

She reached out, feeling the soft fabric with the sensitive skin under her hoof. I would look amazing in this. Maybe one day she would, but lifting it off the rack was enough for her to see it was too long for her. Firefly was growing, but she wasn't big enough for this yet. One day.

She wrapped the dress carefully, stowing it at the bottom of her saddlebags. The rest of the space she filled with fine jewelry from the mirror. Most of it was worthless gemstones, but it had still been crafted into graceful, attractive shapes. Firefly posed in front of the mirror, settling an old circlet covered in green gemstones gently onto her head. Like the dress it didn't quite fit, slipping to one side as soon as she put it there.

Still, the gems complemented her eyes really well. Once she was a little bigger, that would look great.

I wonder if you were my ancestor, she thought, tossing the circlet separately from everything else. It would take a little convincing to get Dusty to let her keep two pieces from a single trip, but he would have to let her when he saw how well they matched. It was like they'd been made for her.

No, stupid. You're not from here, remember? Other ponies were yellow, that's it. They were still her own thoughts, but she imagined a different “sound” to it. Older, deeper, more mature. It was the voice of her old memories, reminding her whenever she got too invested in pony things. Stop dressing up like a little girl. This isn't what you are.

Firefly tucked her ears, grateful that no one was in here to see her put on such an embarrassing display. She went back to her work, gathering up anything that looked valuable. The other textiles in here—dresses and books and the like—had rotted away from the moisture and constant sunlight streaming in through openings in the wall. It took a bit of magic to keep something intact for this long, which meant somepony had really cared about it.

She knew it was time to go when an entire section of wall collapsed before her, taking a whole slice of roof with it. Cloud structures sounded like shattering ice when they broke, like ancient glaciers cracking under the sun. That sound of groaning, failing material wasn't something she should ignore. She sinched her satchel closed, then lifted into a low hover, flying back through the hallway instead of walking.

Flying took far more energy of course, but it also meant she didn't get her hooves stuck in growing openings in the floor. When the stairwell fell out from beneath her, she didn't tumble out into the sky with it either.

A beautiful window of stained ice shattered just as she emerged into the central chamber, raining down shards through the floor. Her eyes twitched rapidly through the room, until she found where her dad was still working. He'd found some intact scrolls to go with an entire suit of armor, which he'd tied to the edge of his saddlebags.

"Hey, you picked one that wasn't rusting this time!" She zipped over to him, hovering vertically in the air. It wasn't almost effortless, not when her saddlebags were filled with rocks, metal, and one nice dress. "That's great!"

Her dad looked up, then nearly walked off a cliff into the open sky. He took off too, visibly straining under the weight of his cargo. "Never let them say you can't learn anything from a younger pony. Too bad we didn't have more time with this one."

She nodded weakly. "I got some good stuff downstairs! There was an officer's bedroom, or maybe a noble. I found this amazing dress she had, the perfect shade of yellow. You have to let me—"

An earth shattering groan shook the room, and the ceiling began to crumble towards them. A heavy beam dissolved into clouds at the edges as it approached, but the sheet above it was still flat.

Firefly didn't even have time to think, she just rolled, dodging out through the missing wall into the sky. Her father wasn't so fast, and so she watched the building collapse over him.

She still didn't know how he could do so well under impacts like that. When buildings fell on Firefly, it still felt like being crushed by a landslide of snow. It could take time to dig herself out, maybe less time than the collapsing clouds would take to spiral down into the Ending Gulf.

Not so for Dust Storm. Sheets of broken cloud shattered around him, but he only dropped a meter or so in the air. He opened his wings again, fluttering over to her with wisps of moisture still clinging to his body. He shook the fog away, like stepping inside out of the rain. "I don't think we have enough time to watch the collapse," he said, patting her consolingly on the shoulder. "We have to get you home, then dressed for school. Come on."

She didn't follow him down, at least not right away. She had to watch part of it, she just wouldn't feel right otherwise.

Just as the Equestrian Central Gyre brought cloud-buildings here from all over the world, they didn't just remain forever. Otherwise there would be an entire cloud country overhead, with ancient buildings smacking together to replace old ones as they eroded.

That didn't happen, because high in the mountains south of Willowbrook was a single point that Skywatchers like her dad called the Ending Gulf. Maybe it was the reason that old clouds drifted this way at all, or maybe it was just their natural end.

Either way, the old structures were drawn to it. She watched as the old fortress drifted away, dissolving into walls, floors, and other parts. They held together a little longer than the building itself, but not by much. As it drifted down, it trailed into mist, then rain.

Not all of it was moisture—there were objects too. Rusty suits of armor, old weapons, scrolls. Anything enchanted to survive this long rained down over the mountain peak, banging and clattering as it went. Refuse Cenotaph was one of Willowbrook's more sensible forbidden places for that reason. It was never completely safe to walk there. Unfortunately, exploring it on hoof was the only way for most ponies to comb through the treasures deposited from above.

"Come on, Firefly," Dusty urged, a little louder. "You can't keep being late, or they won't let me take you up anymore."

That got her attention. Charlie tucked her wings, and dove past him. It was easy to see her home, even from high above. That silly lopsided apartment building was visible from miles up.

She giggled with delight as the wind whipped past her, prompting her to tuck her legs in even closer, and lower her flight-goggles over her face. If she dove long enough, she could feel a growing roar of sound around her, and feel herself pushing into something unseen—the magical threshold called the “rainbow barrier” by her instructors.

Of course, she couldn't cross it, but it was fun to try. Even if that meant she had to start breaking well before she reached the ground, flaring both wings and even kicking out with her legs a few times, as though that would make a difference. She came in a little too fast, and had to dodge around the building, sliding to a stop on the street just outside.

A few local ponies scattered from in front of her, giving her angry looks as she spread a plume of rocks and dust from the street. She came to a stop a block down the road, grinning. She got a few glares as she turned to trot back home, but Firefly didn't care. They were just jealous they couldn't work in the sky.

Chapter 30: Undertaken

As it turned out, Whispering Willow Academy did have variations on its uniform policies, once there was a reason for it. For Firefly, that reason was membership in the "Willowbrook Junior Weather Management Brigade." They also didn't give her a choice—the town had so few pegasus ponies “of satisfactory breeding” that she wasn't so much invited to join after her second year as given a new uniform and a new class schedule to match.

Whispering Willow, or maybe Equestria as a whole, maintained no illusions that ponies of different tribes could all go on to lead similar lives. Most of Willowbrook's population were earth ponies, and so Whispering Willow mostly taught them trades. Firefly heard from those who couldn't afford to attend that Willowbrook Secondary School across town was basically all earth ponies, and everything they learned was about farming.

Meanwhile, the unicorns studied magic, and the flying ponies learned about weather. Only the absolute basics of the curriculum were common at her school, so only in composition, history, or mathematics could she hope to see Lilac. But those classes were a relatively minor part of their schooling; basically only enough for them to function.

Firefly was past hating it now. She kinda liked the weather vest and goggles, even if they weren't as pretty as most of her wardrobe.

It meant she stood out as she landed outside school. Earth ponies parted from in front of her the same way they did for the school's most important unicorns. But for pegasus ponies, she never saw nervous fear or forced respect—those ponies had strange powers, barely understood or appreciated by the rest of Whispering Willow's students. Pegasai had awesome magic too, but it couldn't untie your blouse when you weren't looking, or glue you to the ceiling.

Charlie probably would've compared it to walking in wearing a fireman's uniform, instead of a policeman's. She wasn't gonna give anypony a ticket.

Dusty was wrong to say she'd be late today, though. The ten minute bell rang right as she walked into the building, waving energetically to several ponies as she did so.

"Did you say yes to anypony yet?" Sunbeam called, as she passed her locker. "You can't keep turning everypony down."

She rolled her eyes, slowing for a second to whisper. It wasn't that she particularly cared about the information getting out, it probably already was. She just didn't want to embarrass the poor kid. "Ace Platinum too. Told him it wasn't gonna happen."

Sunbeam's eyes widened. "You said no to Ace Platinum?" The other pegasus flared her wings in surprise. "Who are you waiting for exactly, a prince? You're gonna be alone again. You can't think that's fun!"

She turned away. "I'll know when I meet them." Firefly sped up, darting into the crowd of other students so Sunbeam couldn't keep pestering her. How could she explain that she wasn't interested? Just because the stupid fancy school had stupid fancy balls every other month didn't mean she had to care.

Even if attendance was mandatory, and it meant chatting awkwardly at a table of other spinsters. There were plenty of pretty girls at the table. They usually had more interesting things to say anyway.

She caught up with Lilac a few minutes later, chatting outside the library with her unicorn friends. She waved as she approached, and the mare finished what she was saying, walking over to join her in the hall. "Well?"

Lilac Empathy had grown even faster than Charlie had. She was several inches taller, with the strength and athleticism that came from being an earth pony. She didn't have the ugly, bulky build of one of the laborers, who lumbered around Willowbrook like they'd misplaced their ploughs.

Lilac was graceful, and perpetually smelled of strange forest plants. It didn't matter that she insisted she'd never touched a bottle of perfume or makeup brush in her life. She didn't need to.

She was also perhaps the only mare in Whispering Willow who could get away with wearing a colt's jacket instead of a blouse. She still had a skirt, but it was really only a matter of time until she traded that out too. Only the daughter of Iris Vale could do something like that, and not expect the horseshoe of discipline to come crashing down on her.

She still pulled it off. Her constantly disheveled hair and thick glasses only made her look more mysterious. Only Lilac could carry a conversation about the deep mysteries with unicorns and not look like a cock-eyed filly.

"I got it." She dug into her bookbag, withdrawing a greenish gemstone wrapped in snow-steel. She held it out, and the other mare took it. Despite spending most of her time with unicorns, she still had to use her hooves for it. Derek's magic was powerful, but it went only so far.

She turned over the little gemstone, then nodded approvingly. "It should be big enough. If we're trying to cross, we'll need something much bigger." She gestured with one hoof. "At least this big, without a single crack or imperfection."

Charlie whistled quietly, her wings opening halfway. "I hope you know what you're asking. If something like that even exists it would be worth a fortune. My dad would kill me if I tried to take it. And we might search through the Cumulus Maze for years without finding anything like it."

The other mare flicked her tail dismissively. "If you go back, you won't care how mad he is, will you? Just keep your eyes open. I might be able to persuade my mother, if something like that comes onto the market without diverting to a weather factory first."

Another bell echoed through the halls, this one harsher and more demanding. One minute to class. Of course Lilac was already where she needed to be—she took magical classes with the unicorns. She needed to hurry, but she hesitated for another moment. "Has anyone asked you to the Fetlock Fete yet, Lilac?"

Her friend's ears pressed flat, and her short tail fell still. "Possibly. It's a distant last priority right now, same as ever."

But why are you so embarrassed about it? "Possibly means yes. What did you say?"

Lilac turned sharply, returning to her friends. "See you tonight, Firefly! Bring the bat!"

So you can ask her to the Fetlock Fete instead of me? The thought came so quickly she couldn't even be sure it was her own. Firefly shook her head sharply, dismissing her stupidest idea of the morning. She broke into a gallop, dodging between ungainly earth ponies. She opened her wings more than once, then glided straight up between the stairs, rather than bothering with them.

She still squeaked into class a few seconds after the bell. Grumpy old Mr. Rider was already standing by the door. He smacked it closed with such force the wind lifted her braid.

"Again, Miss Firefly? Do you care about the impression you make?"

She hurried over to her chair, lowering her head apologetically. "I'm sorry! I'll be better!" There were no other students to hide behind—their class only had one row, arranged in a semicircle around a large chalkboard.

"Words again. Don't sit down, Firefly. Since you're already up, you've volunteered. Firefly here is going to demonstrate the proper technique for concentrating cumulus clouds into nimbostratus. I'm sure she remembered to do her at-home practice."

She crossed the room to a wide set of double doors. She took the pull in her mouth, and yanked it to one side, then secured it in place. There was no balcony beyond, this doorway opened straight from the third story of the building to the sky outside. It was wide enough for three well-coordinated ponies to jump at once, or one barely-skyworthy student to fly back inside without clipping their wing on a stone wall.

Firefly stretched in front of the opening, grinning back at her fellow students. They were all her friends by now, though that word meant different things for different ponies. River Breeze and Sunbeam were the only ones she actually wanted to be around outside of school, but the others were still comrades. You couldn't fly weather patrols with someone and not start trusting them.

"Hold it!" Wind Rider said, just as sharply. "You know the rules, you're not going up there alone. Somepony join her, I don't care who." There was a brief, nervous silence, ponies glancing around the room. "Don’t think waiting will get you out of it. My expectations will be slightly lower for the ones who didn't get a demonstration first."

"I'll go!" River practically tripped over her hooves to get out of her desk. She trotted over, adjusting her mane as she did. "It can't be that hard, can it?"

Wind Rider laughed, his voice like rough sandpaper. "For a pony with a lifetime of experience and performance records? No. For a pair of fillies who can barely get off the ground? We'll see." He reached to the side, sounding a little bell. "Five minutes, go!"

Firefly galloped out the opening, spreading her wings as she did so. She watched the pony beside her more than the sky—there wasn’t going to be anypony flying outside their exit door, but there was a very real chance of smacking into another pegasus in flight. She had earned her fair share of bruises from awkward landings.

River was far better in the air than most of her classmates, probably because she was the tallest mare in class, with the most impressive wingspan. She flew more like a swan, making a few wide strokes to every several rapid beats of Firefly's wings. Within a few seconds they had matched pace, curving upward towards the clouds. River soon started panting from the effort.

"You can do it!" Firefly called, pushing just a little ahead of her. And it worked—being out in front gave River a reason to chase her, and soon they were nearly neck and neck, with the clouds rushing up to meet them. It was more the diffuse gray of Willowbrook's upper-air, same as most days.

"Of course I can!" she shot back, though she was still panting. She wasn't slowing down, which was important. "Flying is the easy part! I didn't do my homework, did you?"

She had, and read the rest of the textbook too. Flying stuff was way more interesting than any of her other subjects. But she couldn't say any of that without looking like a nerd. She was supposed to be the cool disobedient student who got on the teacher's nerves. "I skimmed it," she said. "But I'm up in the clouds every morning, it'll be a breeze!"

They slowed as they reached the clouds, skimming along them from below as they searched for an opening. Breaking through from underneath wasn't something a beginners' class wanted children doing, considering how easy it was to get stuck. "Well, show me."

"Easier with two!" she called back. "We're just trying to concentrate more clouds. We need to gather them without bursting any, pressing them together. If we get enough energy, we'll get a storm cloud! I'm sure old Wind Rider just wants rain, but buck that! Let's really impress him!"

"O-okay." River trailed just behind her now. As usual, there was a little fear in her voice. She lived in the clouds, but still wasn't comfortable up here.

Can't spend your whole life just doing what other people tell you, River. Yet for something like this, it would be an advantage. "There's our opening!" She pointed suddenly with one hoof. "You go right, slice off as much as you can. I'll gather it all together. Then you can compress it down from above! I, uh... I think that's what the textbook said! They're taller than they are long, so it's better to push from the top!"

"Sure!" River lowered her goggles over her eyes.

Firefly did the same, then charged off into the sky.

Chapter 31: Accessed

Charlie would never admit there was any part of her education she actually enjoyed. Even when she still had two legs in the world without fur or feathers, she would've been hesitant. There was a reason she'd never pursued higher education, after all.

But ponies understood what few in that world seemed to. She didn't care about the abstract. But whenever there was an obvious practical use for what she was learning, she had ample reason to pay attention.

The school had lots of problems—it was steeped in ancient traditions, the kind that in her own world (and maybe this one too) would have uncomfortable racial overtones. But at least the unique needs of every tribe were seen to. Dusty had already taught her to fly, but Whispering Willow taught her how to perform.

It certainly didn't hurt that such rigorous athletic demands meant her and the other pegasi were always in top shape. She could imagine far worse fates than spending almost every day practicing formations or going on weather patrol with the prettiest ponies in school.

Over time, that meant building a relationship of trust with the other fliers, one that went deep enough to involve some of them in her other adventures. It meant that when class finally ended, River was waiting for her on the roof.

They weren't supposed to land up here, technically. But not even old Wind Rider cared, so long as they didn't disturb the ancient cistern or knock off any tiles. Firefly was much too light on her hooves to do that.

"It was tonight, wasn't it?" River asked, as Firefly fluttered over. She didn't bother landing, not when they were about to take off anyway.

"Sure was!" she agreed, circling once around her. Far below, the other students spread out from the school like a puddle soaking across the carpet. Lilac's carriage was already moving down the road, but that didn't mean Firefly would take off yet.

It was better to wait until the pony had made it out of town before following her, so there weren't so many ponies to see. Having an earth pony in such a powerful unicorn house was already its own type of scandal. Showing the strength of their relationship would only make ponies whisper more loudly.

"Where are we going this time?" she asked. "Please tell me not boglins again. Those things were so creepy."

"Nothing like that!" She landed beside the other pegasus, but not too close. They weighed very little compared to other ponies, that was part of how they flew. But putting the weight of two on some of the same tiles was just begging one to break off. "You probably won't like this any more. We have to go underground."

River groaned, looking up towards the sky. "Underground. Why the buck would we do that?"

"The magic is strongest down there," she answered. Even to her, it sounded like a weak explanation. But what did they know about magic? "Lilac was insistent. The spell just won't work anywhere else."

"You don't think she's just saying that?" River asked. She did it so casually Charlie could almost believe there was no jealousy in it. But she knew this pony too well by now. "She's not like us, Firefly. It doesn't matter to her if there's no sky overhead, and she's trapped in little tunnels. She's always trapped on the ground anyway. Maybe she just wants to keep us stuck there too. She's not even a unicorn."

Charlie smacked one hoof against the tile, loud enough to startle her. "I know you two don't get along, but Lilac is my friend. She doesn't make things up just to get her way. And... she's not a very good liar either. She's had the same tells since she was little. You don't have to come with us if you don't want, but I'm going." She opened her wings, letting the breeze lift her feathers. It wasn't much, but it was enough. That reminder of flight was always there. If she followed Lilac underground, she would be trapped just like River hated.

"I'm going," the filly said. "Somepony has to stick up for you, Firefly. You know you won't do it yourself."

Whatever that even meant. "Looks like the carriage just passed oldtown. Time to go."

They took off together. But this wasn't a weather-training exercise, so they flew very differently this time. They drifted over town in a casual glide, only flapping when they needed to get more air. For River and those graceful wings of hers, that was hardly at all. Firefly had to move much more often. But she also flew both before and after class with her dad, so the trip wouldn't wind her.

There was something infectious about the fun of flying. Going anywhere by air meant she wanted to lean into the wind, dodge a little too close to obstacles, or go so fast that she would have to challenge herself when she landed.

She had to resist the impulse now, or else look to River like she was too eager to get away from her. The pegasus was already jealous enough.

She flew over the carriage, slowing to the walking pace of the two earth pony servants pulling it. Then she dropped down, until she was just beside the window. So there was one thing River couldn't do. Big wings meant big clearance.

She tapped the wooden wall with one hoof to get the attention of the ponies inside. "Lilac, come in Lilac!" Firefly had long since adapted to all the things she couldn't say. She didn't even try to fight anymore, avoiding them like any well-trained animal. But there was much from her Earth life that wasn't denied to her. She'd keep talking like that whenever she could, out of spite.

Inside the carriage were two young ponies in uniform, sitting awkwardly across from each other. As usual, Risk kept looking at Lilac in ways that made Firefly want to break something. His head, maybe.

Lilac reached over to open the window. She waved with one hoof, gesture weak and sluggish. Lilac was always a little like that, except when she was doing magic. "We've still got another mile before the service road." She leaned out of the window, scanning the sky around them. "Are you still bringing your friend with you?"

Charlie shrugged her wings. "Are you?"

"It's not the—" Lilac began, but fell silent. This was an argument they'd had many times before now, and nopony was going to change their minds. "Whatever. The supplies are all stashed. You should probably go on ahead. If you see any cultists, fly back and warn us. We'll have to go another day."

"Right." She flared her wings, letting the carriage pass her by. Once she had a clear path, she flapped with all her might, curving back up into typical pegasus cruising altitude. It wasn't as high as she might've expected—everypony she knew stayed well below the clouds, only slightly above the tallest buildings and power-lines. Only when traveling long distance—something she'd never done—did they fly higher.

Or when flying up to cloud-houses, obviously.

"Well?" River asked. "We're still on?"

She nodded, banking to one side over a nearby field. Hopefully it would look casual, meant to take her near but not directly over their destination. If the cult was watching the old mine today, she couldn't make her goals too obvious.

Those weird ponies already knew way too much about her and Lilac for her comfort.

River might be pretty and graceful, but she wasn't subtle. She changed direction with a sharp sideways angle, following behind her right wing. She didn't catch up this time, holding formation there. It was one they'd learned in class, used for flying through intense winds or just a long distance.

"Do you really think this magic will do anything?" she asked. "Nothing happened at that magic pool, or the floating temple, or..."

"Yes," she interrupted. "Nothing was supposed to happen at the Wind Altar, we were just taking measurements. Now we have them, so we're sure. Or... Lilac’s sure. I don't know how it works."

"I'm still not sure she does either. She's not a unicorn. You know it's not natural for an earth pony to do what she does."

"Nothing about either of us is natural," she said, turning in the air to glide backwards. The maneuver was impressive enough that River actually gasped, staring at her. Firefly didn't fall, or even falter in the sky. She couldn't do it particularly fast, but that was fine. Flying too quickly would give away their intentions anyway.

"I've explained that before. We're not from around here. We're not gonna be like other ponies. I thought you were okay with that."

River made a noncommittal horse sound. "I know you two were close when you were foals. I know you came from the same place. But you can't honestly say you're like her."

She caught up in a single stroke of her wings, flying almost within a leg span of Charlie. That was tricky in its own right. But they'd flown together so many times they knew how not to hit each other. "I don't know what you mean. We're from far away. We have the same dreams of another place, and we're both working together to see it again."

And when we get the magic working, we're going to leave you behind and go home.

But she didn't say that part. It was too painful to put into words, particularly when she didn't know how long it might take. Maybe another week, or maybe another five years. It didn't make sense to hurt her friend's feelings over nothing.

"Come on," River said, rolling her eyes. "She's an earth pony who thinks she's a unicorn. She sounds just like them, does that weird enchantment by scratching runes on everything... and have you seen how she looks? Like every day is Nightmare Night, and she's pretending she's a colt!"

Charlie slowed in the air. Despite her sudden wave of emotion, she did still remember her mission. She could see no one moving near the old mine entrance, either on the ground or in the concealed shelters to either side. They might be further off, able to see her. She continued on, dropping lower and lower on the hill.

She might be better than most ponies her age, but she still had to turn around and focus on what she was doing to bring herself in for a landing like this. There were dense trees along the cliffside, and random formations of rock protruding up and out into the sky. Even at low speed, such a collision would probably keep her grounded for weeks.

"I'm not that different."

"Buck if you aren't!" River called. "You're the pegasus everypony looks up to! You fly like you're not even trying, and you look like you actually care about how you look when you come to class. I know how many stallions have asked you to the Fetlock Fete. Bet your friend didn't get one! They're probably afraid she'll turn them into something."

Charlie landed abruptly, less gracefully than she meant to. Her hooves sprayed rocks and dust around her, but she still managed to stop before tumbling off the cliff.

It wasn't tall in any case, a stone butte maybe fifty feet above the mine's entrance. But ponies actually came here to look at the scenery sometimes, as the bench and canopy suggested. Now all they had to do was make their way down without going above the trees.

She spun, watching River come down behind her. The mare flared her wings, and came to a perfect stop, before touching down right in front of her. "It's not your fault," she said. "Lots of ponies can't see their value. That's why they have friends."

She glared back, stubbornly. "If you can see mine, than... can't you trust me? Lilac knows what she's doing. You'll see, the magic is gonna work this time."

River sighed, closing her wings. "Whatever. Where's the trail down from here again?"

Chapter 32: Cast No Shadow

"She's gone, right?"

Derek shifted in her seat, lowering the curtains back over the window. Risk watched her from across the carriage, though she couldn't quite read his expression. Not anger, exactly. Annoyance. The way he usually looked whenever Charlie was around.

"Yes. Hopefully she doesn't report back. If the Lightless Star is still using the mine, it's going to make this process a lot harder than it needs to be."

She settled back into her carriage-seat, getting comfortable again. Derek had a proper change of clothes in the carriage, but she didn't want to switch with Risk still watching. It didn't matter if she spent most of her time around this colt naked—the act of changing was still a deeply personal thing.

"They will eventually," Risk said. "For the same reasons as you. Can't bring back the true gods without a low place, and I don't know of any others."

They might, she thought. But that was more wishful thinking than anything. Derek could imagine a world where the Lightless Star wouldn't interfere with her life anymore. But pretending wouldn't make it true—only escaping back to Earth could do that. She had a little more fighting to do before she could see that world. "As long as they aren't using it now, that's all we need," Derek said. "They won't be able to tell what we did."

Risk was silent for a few seconds, glancing to either side. When he did speak, it was with a voice nervous and hesitant. "Are you sure you don't, uh... are you sure we should be doing this without their permission? Doesn't it feel like we should be on the same side? You're trying to summon your brothers and sisters, just like them. Just because you understand it better than they do..." Risk knew things, maybe more than any pony but Iris. But that didn't mean Derek had told him just the truth. The whole city was loyal to the Lightless Star, and Derek didn't think he would be able to handle that particular truth.

And once we can open the way back to Earth, it won't matter what he thinks anymore. Some part of her felt guilty about the lie, but it was a vanishingly small part. Derek had been pulled into Equestria against her will—anything she had to do to get home was fair game. Hopefully no one else would be harmed along the way.

"We can stop here," she called, loud enough that her voice would carry through the thin carriage walls. The servant bringing her home today was Long Haul, one of her favorites. He never asked any questions, no matter how bizarre her requests. Let them think she was a god all they wanted, so long as it meant she could make it back to Earth one day.

The cart rattled to a stop. "Of course, Miss Vale."

Derek nodded towards the door. "Gimmie a second, I'll be right out."

Risk rolled his eyes, then hopped past her out the door.

She changed quickly, or at least as quick as she could. Really that just meant ditching the skirt and fancy vest, and replacing it with a thick adventuring coat. It hung long behind her, a little like a trench coat. Except this one had a lining she'd stitched herself, tightly reinforced with powerful enchantments. It also made her look a lot less girlish, particularly when she paired the old-fashioned cap with it. All she needed was a tommy gun and a cigarette, and she could fit right at home in any of Lovecraft's novels.

She left her school clothes folded on the seat, but brought the bag over her shoulder. She'd need everything inside for what was waiting for them. She walked past Risk, over to where Long Haul stood in his harness. "You can continue to the mansion, Long Haul," she said. "Maybe see my clothes brought back to my room, if you have the time for it. It would be better if nopony knew to look for me."

His eyebrows went up. "You don't plan on upsetting the mistress, do you?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Back before midnight this time, I promise. If anypony asks, just tell them I'm hiking with Firefly again. It's mostly true."

The old stallion nodded. "As you wish, Miss Vale." He trotted off, carriage rattling as it rolled down the road. She watched him go, at least until he was out of earshot.

"You don't have to dress up like that," Risk said. Like her, the colt had grown in the last few years. He was a full head taller, lean and muscular in a way that no mare could ever look. Not even Charlie, despite her bottomless athleticism. He kept his mane as perfect as his uniform, even when he was about to go underground on a dangerous mission. "Lady Vale has a personal tailor. Give her ten minutes, I'm sure she would find something perfect for you."

Now if only she could find a way to look as masculine and confident as he did, maybe she wouldn't hate looking in the mirror. "I'm not trying to look perfect, I'm trying to stay safe. My enchantments aren't in the dresses Mom wants me to wear." She glanced down the road in both directions, then darted forward. The trail they were looking for peeked out between a pair of overgrown fields, entirely unmarked now. Nopony wanted new move-ins from Los Pegasus wandering down forgotten roads and getting themselves killed in the old mine.

"Yeah, but they could be," he said. "At least promise me you won't come to the Fetlock Fete in a suit."

Derek grinned sidelong at him. "You asked me, you had to know what you were getting your hooves on. I'm a disgrace! Did she lose her horn in an accident? Did anypony tell her she was an earth pony?" She leaned forward to a skeletal tree emerging from the corner of the field, smacking her hoof against it. As she did, she whispered the secret words the earth had told her, the ones she'd sworn her cutie mark to learn. Bright green sprang from its branches, bursting forth in new life.

A few seconds later, an apple dropped from the edge of one branch, right into an outstretched hoof. She took a dramatic bite, chewing in frustrated silence. She didn't bother stopping with the core, just ate through the whole thing in a few short bites. "I'm dangerous to be around, Risk. Firefly doesn't have a choice, we're both flames from the same branch. Not you, though."

He didn't look away. "I don't expect you to act like a pony exactly, Lilac. You're from ancient history—and if I understand the Doctrine, you were probably an Alicorn back then. I can't even imagine how hard it must be, only able to express one aspect of that magic. Like your body is a prison, and until we can fix this spell... you can't escape it."

She broke into sudden laughter, smacking him on the shoulder with one hoof. "You have no idea how right you are, Risk. At least you understand how badly I want to finish this. That means accepting any help we can get. That means you don't try to send Firefly away. She's as much a part of this as I am."

He looked back, obviously skeptical. "I know how much you feel like that," he said. "And you're from the same place, I get that part. But don't you think if you were so closely related, you would share more in common? I always thought she must be some... servant of the true gods. The same way we divide labor in our world, you did there. Her being a pegasus..."

Derek cleared her throat, loudly. "Don't follow that reasoning much further, or you'll realize where I should be. I don't need Firefly ranked—she's my friend. You can be my friend too. Is that not good enough?"

Risk didn't answer. She didn't bother arguing with him further, focusing on the magic they were about to perform. The difficult hike was an effortless thing for an earth pony, even if it left the unicorn gasping and panting for breath after just a few minutes. She barely even watched the ground under her hooves—every step was confident, and it didn't matter how much she brought with her.

He still would've carried all her equipment if she asked, but that wasn't a mistake she was going to repeat. She didn't want to hurt the poor stallion. Only his preconceptions needed to be taken down—she could keep working on those.

Finally she saw the mine entrance, with the pair of pegasi waiting just beside it. Firefly saw her at the same moment, opening both wings to wave. "Hey! Wondered if you were gonna show up."

"Not everypony can soar over the cliffside," Risk muttered, voice pained. "You should consider those other than yourself, and be a little more patient."

Firefly started giggling, high and feminine. "That's... yeah, sure kid. Think of someone else. Truly I receive wisdom from my betters today. I didn't think of that."

"We've got magic to do," Derek said loudly, shoving her way between them, up to the mine's wooden entrance barrier. She nudged it aside with one hoof, then lifted it upward. Some part of her realized it was heavy—but that part was distant, barely on the edge of her perception; a bad smell in a room she couldn't leave.

That perception didn't reach her body, however. Her limbs didn't shake with the effort of holding a great weight, though she did adjust her other three legs to keep them firmly on the ground. Even if her body had the strength, she could still tip over if she wasn't careful. "Come on. Places to be."

The others hurried inside. Well, Risk hurried. Charlie and River were a little slower, hesitating just outside the mine. Charlie looked up one final time, wings twitching. "You sure we have to go down there? Every time we do I get spiders or something in my feathers."

"I'd rather do it up on the surface too. If this works, we can go to Thermal Springs after, okay?" She had the pegasus there. Her family couldn't afford to frequent any of the finer establishments in Willowbrook. Frankly, they probably wouldn't let her in if she went alone anyway. But if Derek took her, it would be a different story.

She sighed, and crawled through the opening. Her friend River hurried in behind her, barely leaving a wing's distance. Derek ground her teeth together, staring after her for a few seconds. There was somepony here who didn't belong. But trying to convince Charlie of that was a losing prospect.

She darted inside, letting the wooden barricade rattle down behind them. They went from the light of full day to an instant, oppressive gloom. For a moment she couldn't see anything at all, until Risk’s horn started to glow.

That was enough light for her to fish around in her satchel, and withdraw a sliver of glowstone crystal. She fought with it for a second, wrapping it around her cap. The brim would keep it out of her eyes, while reflecting it back up into the space around her like a miner's lantern.

Even then, the group huddled far closer as they set off through the old mine. The corridors were meant for adult earth pony stallions, so there was plenty of space. But it still felt oppressive, like the stone itself was crowding close to suffocate them.

Even with firm wooden supports buttressing the tunnel, the earth seemed to shift uneasily around them as they walked. Their hoofsteps echoed and stretched, coming back multiplied.

This wasn't a mine connected to some natural cave, at least not up here. There was no natural beauty to reveal, just rough rock blasted apart with explosives and magic. There were no gemstones to be seen, or veins of glittering ore. Just different shades of brown with occasional veins of black rock. Granite, maybe? That was one aspect of her nature Derek hadn't embraced. Well, one of many.

"How much further do we have to do?" River asked, her voice quiet and fearful. Then they emerged from the tunnel, into a wide shaft stretching down. A metal cage hung there, suspended by a thick cable. A complex mechanism was set into the rock beside it, equal parts magical and mechanical.

Risk levitated the cage door open, and Derek stepped inside.

"Not much further forward," she said. "A lot further down."

Chapter 33: Sightless Eyes

The deep was a strange place, even Derek could admit that. Deep underground, she could feel the gentle pressure of attention on her at all times, as though creatures just out of sight were watching her.

In Equestria, perhaps they might be. Even after years of time to grow up here, learning as much as she could about the natural magic of the place and its residents, Derek did not feel as though she had any real confidence. It felt as though every new lesson with Iris might add new information that completely undermined her understanding.

But Cyan Mine was worse than any ordinary cave. Here the sense of watching attention was hostile. If someone told her that a terrible mining accident had killed hundreds of locals and entrapped their restless ghosts in the stone, she would believe it.

"I don't get why this has to be underground," said River Breeze. Charlie's stupid friend, who didn't belong here and was wasting all of their time.

At least if she'd brought the bat, Velvet Moon would have some useful contributions to their navigation. A bat could use echolocation to find her way around, sensing hidden passages and threats before they came. River could only complain and slow their progress.

"We're going into one of the most dangerous places in Willowbrook. Everypony knows you don't go into Cyan Mine. But here we are, putting ourselves in danger for no reason. What's the reason?"

"She already explained," Charlie said. "I get it."

"No, you just believe everything she says and never stick up for yourself. I'm asking her. I know it isn't just to make us uncomfortable, is it Lilac?"

"No." She stretched her tone with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "But you won't understand. You're a pegasus."

"And you're an earth pony. I think I'll manage."

"She's more than—" Risk snapped, stopping his forward progress. He stood straight up, glowering at River. "You're right, you don't belong here!"

"Please stop arguing." Charlie stepped between them, pacing in a slow circle. "Just let Lilac answer the question. And listen carefully this time so she doesn't have to explain again."

"We're here to cast a special scrying spell." Derek didn't want to say more—but from the way River spread her wings and pawed at the ground, she could tell she wouldn't get away with so little information. "A scry is a spell to see into somewhere we aren't. Like looking at another city.

"Only instead of looking into another city, we are looking at another universe."

River nodded, but there was no trace of comprehension on her face. "Okay. But explain the underground part. I know you're here for magic, and Firefly cares for some reason."

"When you scry, you need sympathy and you need proximity," she said, the exact two words that Iris had used. Just because she was answering the question didn't mean she had to make it understandable for River. "Sympathy is something Firefly and I bring no matter what. Proximity comes from the mine. Down in the bottom is a low-place. It's very close—less than a hundred meters from us. You should be able to feel it right now."

"I can," Charlie whispered. "Like a... drain. Like I should've slept hours ago. It's dragging me down."

"It will do more than that!" Risk snapped. "A low place is a cold fire—drawing the life and heat from everything that gets close. Touch it, and it will kill you. That's why nopony is allowed down here. If they were unlucky enough to get close to this thing, they could get themselves killed. A few years ago, a dozen ponies died down here."

Died summoning us, Derek thought. Nopony had told her that outright, not even Iris. But she could put the pieces together. The deaths of so many townsponies were impossible to hide. There had been a royal investigation and everything.

Very fortunate for her that the investigation hadn't discovered her or Charlie. If the Lightless Star was to be believed, the rulers of Equestria would kill them without a second thought. She had no reason to disbelieve them.

"I think it's through there." Derek pointed just ahead, where the glow of Risk's horn illuminated a heavy metal door. It was so far the only one they'd discovered that wasn't made of rotting wood. This was heavy metal, with a sturdy-looking lock in the center.

They all crowded around, and even River fell silent to look. Derek got up close, squinting through the gloom.

At least she wasn't still trapped by her illiteracy. Derek could read with full proficiency, and she did.

"EXTREME DANGER TO LIFE
DO NOT ENTER FOR ANY REASON
THAUMIC HAZARD"

They weren't even dressing it up. The cult hadn't bothered trying anything particularly cloak and dagger here.

"So we're giving up?" River asked. "Oh well. Maybe we could go back to your place and prepare for the Fetlock Fete, eh Vale?"

She rolled her eyes, fished around in her saddlebags, and removed something in her mouth—a walnut, hollowed and covered in dense writing. She held it up to the door, pressing it right to the lock. Then she smashed it down with a hoof, directly into the mechanism. The delicate shell crunched and fell away, releasing the magic trapped inside.

"Knock knock," Derek whispered. The door clicked open, and swung backward.

There was darkness beyond, or... what was darker than darkness? A dense, persistent absence filled the room beyond. Even Risk's horn light barely made it through the doorway.

"That's awful," River whispered. She clutched at her stomach, wings falling slack. "It got so much worse when you opened the door. True gods, I'm gonna be sick."

"Stay back," she said, stepping over the threshold. "You too, Risk.” She stepped inside, crossing the open doorway into the room. It was a little like standing in a drain, except it was pulling at the substance of her soul, weakening her second by second. But it didn't debilitate her. She didn't drop to one knee the way Risk did, wobbling.

He looked like he wanted to object. But his word was strangled in a gasp, and he just nodded.

"Firefly, come in here. I have a theory."

Charlie followed her. She wobbled as she walked inside, wings splayed to either side. But she didn't fall over either. "I hate it," she whispered into Derek's ear. "This place is ugly. I've been to haunted houses that were more inviting."

"Of course you have. Those ghosts weren't real."

That silenced her. While she stood there, Derek fished around in her pack for something else. After a little digging, she came up with an actual miner's torch, wrapped in paper. She struck it against the rock wall, and light flared up around them.

Even the pure orange of fire was dimmed somewhat by the awful darkness of the chamber beyond. Its light was visibly weakened as it shone towards the center of the room, maybe five meters further on. The smoke didn't rise, but instead trickled down towards a point in the middle.

If she squinted into the center, Derek could see a purple... reflection, visible there in the middle. Light's sickly cousin, from a far darker place than the one they inhabited. "Can you carry this?"

Charlie took it in her hoof, nodding. "How come we can come in here?"

Derek kept her voice just as low, but she didn't think the others would overhear. There was something deeply sickening about being near this thing, one that she expected would make memories of it foggy.

Not for them, though. "We're from there. We can be used to Equestria, but that doesn't cut the ties to our home."

"It's pulling," her friend replied. "Do you feel it? Like a slope in the floor. Except I can see the ground is flat. How long will this take?"

"Not long. Stay close to me. If I slip, grab me. I'll do the same for you."

Charlie nodded seriously. Whatever argument they were having outside, any trace of it was gone now.

Derek set to work as quickly as she could. There was no time to discuss or second guess. This place felt so awful even she wasn't sure that she would have the strength to come back for a second run. She would have to get things right the first time.

She already had the spell worked out, or else she probably would've left already. Derek removed the outline from her pack, then began recreating it on the cavern floor. She drew carefully with chalk, staying well away from the event horizon.

If they ever wanted to transit the low-place, they would need to actually bisect it with a magical tool, and somehow not get sucked in alive. For a scrying spell, they just had to get close enough to work with its magical resonance.

Or... anti-resonance. The tree people had told her about this, confused and repulsed whenever she discussed her intentions to return home.

"It's a dark, disordered place. Outer darkness, without governance or purpose. Why do you think the ancient evil was banished to it? It was the only death complete enough to know they would not return."

Saffron had said things like that, and some that were even worse. Now the fear from all those breezies made much more sense to Derek.

She worked without stopping, ignoring the growing weakness that permeated her muscles. If she stopped now, she might never finish. The magical essence of her spell would be eroded by the low-place as surely as the tide lapped at a sandcastle, leaving nothing for her on a return visit.

Despite the feeling of gravity pulling her into the event-horizon, nothing actually pulled them. Charlie didn't slip either, just followed her around with a torch and kept the workspace clear.

Far from the assistant that Risk could be. But when she looked at that unicorn, she found him on the ground, outside, cowering behind the protection of steel.

It took less than ten minutes to work the spell, but those minutes felt like days. By the end, Charlie was panting, and Derek had to settle back and draw on the strength of earth with every single step. At least she had an endless well of power. Her friend was far from the sky, where her power came from. It would be much worse for her.

But Charlie didn't have to cast the spell, Derek did. She was the one who had to keep her strength up.

Eventually, the magic was complete. Derek settled the precious gemstone into its place in the diagram, and retreated from the hole in reality. "We're ready," she said.

"Do you... think it will work?" Charlie asked, leaning on her for support. Derek normally wouldn't let her get that close—it made her feel too girly. She needed her personal space.

But just this once, she let Charlie do it, stupid girly pony instincts and all.

"Mathematically, yes," she said. "But magic is only about... half math. The rest is about stories. I don't know what kind of story ends with a low place. Not a good one."

"But we want to go back through. Our story in Equestria ends here, doesn't it?"

"Not today it doesn't." She moved over the gemstone, lifting one hoof directly over it. Even runecrafting would require a powerful expenditure of magical energy to get the process going.

"Picture home, Firefly. Hold it in your head, but don't try to touch it. It's only an image, no matter how convincing it looks. Got it?"

Charlie nodded. Her tail tucked between her legs, ears flat. "Are we sure this is worth it? Maybe... maybe we shouldn't be fighting so hard. Maybe we should wait. We could come back in a few years. Is this spell even safe?"

"No," Derek answered. "Iris made me promise to never use a scrying spell to look beyond Equestria. Does it matter, Firefly? Do you want to give up our home forever, or not?"

Her friend shuddered, keeping her eyes focused stubbornly on Derek. "I... don't want to go without saying goodbye. I left p-pe-ponies behind."

"Me too." Derek smashed her hoof down with all her might. Despite being hard as rock, the gemstone shattered, seeming to melt into light. Her mind went with it, perceptions drawn inexorably into the scry.

There was no turning back now.

Chapter 34: Invisible Pain

For a timeless eternity, Derek Ashsen drifted.

She knew, on some level at least, that she was in a scrying spell. She floated without sensation, a passenger in an endless river, tossed in every current and eddie. She couldn't scream, couldn't paddle, only get hopelessly carried along towards parts unknown.

But they weren't unknown to her memory. She saw trees, somehow dull and washed out despite the healthy green of the pines and bright yellows of the wildflowers. This was the Nocturne Forest preserve, somewhere she'd been hiking her whole life.

Somewhere she'd come in pursuit of power. There was a waterfall here, slowed somewhat by the winter freeze and dusting of snow. The bank was frozen, along with a thin layer of ice extending to but not reaching the flow.

There was a metal fence around it now, with blocks of warning text she didn't read. Her curiosity over this place did not go nearly so deep as what lay beyond. She felt little joy as she flew, even in the realization that her spell had worked and she had managed to wedge open the portal to her world. Even a molecule wide was enough.

Finally she saw buildings, clustered together with only sparse trees and wide, flat roads. Blurs of motion moved around them—people, animals, and other things. She couldn't see them—couldn't see doors opening, couldn't hear conversation.

But that was expected. She was relying on sympathy here, and these were strangers. She would need to find someone familiar.

There was the slightly dumpy strip-mall, converted into a medical building. At her will, she flew towards the building, with its tinted windows and ugly modern-art sculptures outside. But the metal sign on the door was missing.

Inside, she found no new furniture—only dust and spiderwebs, clouding the windows. Cardboard boxes filled the room, callously crushing the dried husk of her bonsai tree. They hadn't even drained the lobby fish tank, which was filled with disgusting green slime near the rocks.

She could only hope that her fish had been humanely given to other owners before her death. At least she didn't have any dogs or cats at home to suffer an even worse fate.

Her exploration could not last in peace. She couldn't fly on to search locations beyond her hometown and search for her family. The energy of the spell was already collapsing.

She'd known from her own research, and from Iris's guarded replies about scrying spells in general, to expect strange things. But her mother had given her explicit warnings to never, ever try to probe beyond Equestria. She had not said why. Now Derek saw.

Her home dissolved, the structures and plants and roads melting away into a disordered soup, blurring and stirred together in a toxic mess. She saw another world in the chaos, one that resembled nothing she could consciously describe. The very curve of space stretched her sanity, the smells defied rational explanation. The life there was fully visible to her, despite the scry.

She could not understand it, except for the eyes. The watching, unblinking eyes. She willed herself to flee, trying to end the spell. But the energy wasn't coming from her anymore. The spell wasn't ending!

Intention swirled and collected around her, a single creature isolated from a universe of gibbering madness. It stole memories from her, its flesh oozing and coalescing together until it was a bipedal creature, about the size of a pony. Its limbs and joints all twisted and bent out of order.

Cancerous growths formed of balled muscle and rapidly mutating cells. Black eyes with glowing yellow pupils formed in the sockets, though they were off-axis and not symmetrical, with one higher than the other. Its hair was a curtain of slime, stinking of rotten fish and motor oil and other things she had no names for.

Its anatomy was unknowable, bones emerging at random in pointed spikes from the skin. "Quismalam," it whispered, dark red blood oozing from its lips. Human blood, somehow. "Twice-traitor. Bottled, severed. Did they tell you why?"

She had no body, yet she still felt trapped. If she had arms or legs, she would've been flailing them wildly to retreat. But she could not, because she had not.

"False vacuum, thaumic answered. Balanced on a valance tightrope. What did the sun tell you? Did the moon whisper sweet lullabies? Fractions and lies? Weakness comes from imprecision."

It lifted one misshapen hand. Fingers extended at random in all directions, at least a dozen of them. They all had the same pale skin as the creature, like a corpse left to rot in the water so long it grew swollen and bleached.

It drew a shape in the air, its fingers undulating and twisting in mad patterns. Each one drew a glowing line, forming a ball of power the size of her head. It burned into her memory indelibly, a shape she could never forget, no matter how long she lived.

"Gate."

Something wrenched at her, pulling her back with incredible force.

All at once, Lilac felt her body again, and several pairs of legs dragging her back. Forcefully. She gasped air through ragged lungs, coughing up a mouthful of bloody sludge onto the dirt.

She was in the Cyan Mine, where the Lightless Star had hidden the low-place from the eyes of Willowbrook. She smelled her friend's ozone scent, along with the wet rock of the old mine. Three ponies had their legs around her, dragging her away from a dark purple anti-light at the center of the room, towards the door.

She didn't fight, didn't have the strength to move yet. She couldn't even look away from that center. There in the deepest darkness, she saw a misshapen fingertip reaching.

The stone felt different than she remembered, loose wet dirt that chilled her hooves where she touched it, like a frozen riverside. Yellowing grass stretched away from that point, filling the room. How? The ponies dragged her through it, and the room just kept going. Fifty feet became a hundred, then her hooves dragged back onto familiar ground.

"Her eyes are open!" Risk yelled. Her hearing was still blown-out and distorted, like a mortar had gone off a few feet away. "She's alive!" Desperation and relief filled his voice.

The others were still terrified. On some level, Lilac was awake enough to be surprised that River and Risk had even made it into the room. But they were in now, dragging her away from the opening. Charlie kneed them, shoving against her shoulder with all the strength a pegasus could muster.

Not much. "Keep pushing!"

That finger dragged along the ground, tugging something with it. An entire hand formed from the shadows, exactly the one that had just drawn that terrible epigraph.

"Oh God," she whispered. "I let something in."

The native ponies kept struggling, dragging her towards the opening. But Charlie heard, and slowed long enough to look. Her face turned visibly sick, and she clutched at her belly with one hoof, falling behind.

Lilac felt her hooves dragged across the threshold, out into the mine, and around the corner. Once there was a layer of stone between her and the low place, she felt her strength return almost instantly. Power flowed through the stone and into her body.

She stood on her own, startling the other two ponies into releasing her. "Firefly, get out!"

Her friend emerged a few seconds later, wiping slime from the side of her mouth. "It’s... coming."

"What is?" Risk asked, breathless. But at least he was still talking after exposure to the low place. The local ponies were tougher than she'd expected.

That name isn't right. It isn't low, it's a tear—a hole in reality. And she had stood there for minutes, holding it open.

A scream filled the cavern, loud enough that all four of them fell briefly silent. But Lilac was the first to recover. She had heard the voice before. "Frozen, formless, veil sundered! Stolen matter, false souls!"

"It's pulling itself through," Lilac said. She galloped past them to the heavy metal door. Being exposed to the tear again started pulling her strength away, but she didn't need it for long. Just a few steps into the room and she could take the door with one hoof, dragging it closed.

Not fast enough to avoid seeing the thing still dragging itself through. Here it loomed tall, so tall it would barely fit in the cavern. But the shape was exactly as she remembered—bipedal, almost human. A human form dredged from the demoniac nightmares of a madman.

Its yellow eyes saw her. "I come to teach you, Derek Ashsen! You gave your name, now share your flesh! What is unknown will be known!"

She slammed the steel door shut, rattling against the walls. But the lock didn't seal, and it already started drifting inward again.

"Risk! Hold it with your magic, now!"

He appeared beside her, horn glowing. He gripped the door, pulling it shut with all his might. "Th-this is... like last time? The fire-spirit?"

She whimpered. Her hooves moved sluggishly as she dug in her saddlebags, coming up with her lump of charcoal. "N-not exactly. Elementals are from... beside. This came from below."

His ears pressed flat, face paling. "My magic can't fight that."

She dropped her charcoal, and it clattered away into the gloom. What the hell was she thinking? There was no magical circle strong enough to hold back the thing she had let in. What would Iris say?

Iris would say that no sane pony would look beyond the Outer Gates. She would warn against even the most powerful experts touching magic like this, because only death waited for their hubris.

Nothing about how to survive after she made a mistake.

The ground shook as a meaty limb smacked against it. "Door locking spell. Do you know it?"

Little Risk nodded weakly, horn glowing brighter. "Secrets sealed tie friends like blood." Heavy steel bolts clattered shut. When his horn stopped glowing, the door didn't move, locked as securely as when they first arrived.

Unfortunately for them, that wasn't very strong. Not strong enough to keep the muffled shouts of an alien mind from echoing through the door. "Loops of the liars, nowhere child! What was will be!"

River started crying, whimpering in naked terror. Risk kept himself together a little better, but he did back away from the door. They all did, even Lilac. Each step felt labored, like fleeing from a monster in her nightmares.

A nightmare was exactly what she had brought. The sound advanced so quickly that she could barely even process what she was hearing. It slammed into the door, like a charging bull. The steel dented and deformed, bowing outward from the first impact. Stone joints strained where it anchored into the walls.

That won't hold for long.

"What do we do?" Charlie asked, her voice desperate and terrified. And somehow unburdened. Lilac knew it instantly, without knowing how or even understanding what exactly it meant. Charlie hadn't seen what she had—maybe the scry hadn't worked at all.

There was no time to ask. "Lilac! You've been preparing for months! You know everything! What do we do?"

"False life surrendered!" bellowed a voice through the stone. Red blood seeped out through the opening in the door, hissing and steaming as it struck stone. "Slice the veil, let them in! Betrayers, victims, fools!"

Lilac trembled under the constant verbal assault. This would be so much easier if they just screamed gibberish at her. But the more the creature said, the more its words made sense.

"Please!" Firefly yanked her sideways, eyes huge and desperate. "We have to do something! What kind of magic fixes this?"

"I don't know!" she shouted back. "We weren't supposed to bring anything back with us! We were just looking!"

The creature slammed against its prison door a second time, and the metal screamed in protest. It bent outward far enough that she could see its malformed legs underneath. Thin and bony, yet somehow incredibly strong. How?

It didn't matter. It would kill them just the same.

Chapter 35: Playing the Field

A demon Lilac had called from beyond the bounds of time and the depths of space pounded on its steel door, clawing to get inside. Its shouts were agony in her ears, not because of any magic, but because she was beginning to understand what it said.

If it caught them here, it would do worse than kill them. Her friends would die, and it would be her fault. Worst of all, she knew it would attack her last. She wouldn't even have the sweet release of death to take away the pain of guilt. It would want her to marinade in it.

River and Risk began retreating towards the way they'd come, one passage among many in Cyan Mine.

We can't run, it's faster than any of us. It can feel us through the walls, we can't hide either. This was the spawn of Abaddon and traffic with forbidden things. It would warp the ground it touched, defiling and ruining as it went. It might not be the civilization-ending kind of horrifying—but it might be town-killing, if it got enough power.

"Think!" Firefly yelled, dragging her away from the door. "Come on Lilac! You're the only pony who knows this stuff. What can you tell us?"

What could she tell them? "Nothing! There's not a damn—" She stopped abruptly, eyes going wide. "Wait. This way, come on!"

She picked another direction, not the one they'd come from, then galloped off. She was an earth pony, with the ground sturdy beneath her. None of them could catch up with her. She slowed enough that Risk could keep pace, and she could use the glow of his horn to see. She would be blind without him otherwise.

"This isn't the way out!" Firefly yelled. She was keeping up better than the others, only a few steps behind. Strange how much better she was at coping with the horrors down here. Was there something that made them uniquely resistant, even to a demon?

She couldn't hear its voice behind them anymore. But Lilac heard when the steel door smashed open, cracking the stone and making the ceiling rumble overhead.

That was enough to make the other ponies speed up, breathing heavily with exhaustion. They couldn't keep this up for very long—but they wouldn't have to.

"I know!" she yelled back. "We can't outrun it! If we made it to the elevator, it would get us in the cage. You two could fly out maybe, but once it got our magic, it would catch you."

"And you'd be dead!" Her friend wasn't running at all. Firefly flew along beside her. Her bright orange under feathers glowed in the dark, leaving a rippling static of energy in the air around her. She wasn't even panting anymore, more coasting through the air, while still swerving and dodging around obstructions as they came. "Give me something better!"

She was almost as coordinated as a bat. Impressive, but it wouldn't help anypony else escape. Even if you fly out, it will come after you next. You have more magic than anyone else in Willowbrook.

"We have to kill it without magic!" she shouted back. "You could call lightning, Risk could fry it, I could punch it through the mountain. It won't work!"

"Okay..." Firefly slowed slightly, biting her lip as she dodged a collapsed section of wooden wall. There was pony writing haphazardly painted onto the rock here, not the elegant sign the cult had used. "DANGER! POWDER ROOM"

"Stop with the electricity!" Lilac yelled. Finally loud enough for Firefly to notice her, because she dropped the few feet to the ground, tucking her legs in close. She skidded along the dirt before coming to a stop. "What is it?"

"Before the damned and their banishment! Before the tolling of the bells! Hear what the dark places whisper!" The demon crashed through the tunnels, smacking up against the walls as it passed. It was so big it would have to stoop and crawl through the tunnels. But when they weren't big enough, it sounded like it was gouging away at the rock as it went, tearing an opening for itself.

It's so close already! she thought, desperate and afraid. But they had a few more seconds. "This way!" She gestured through the open doorway, packed with barrels all close together. Most of them had no lids, and she could see almost nothing inside. They'd been used up and never replaced. But a few near the back still had their lids.

"Help me clear the ground," she said, pointing at a single flat patch of tunnel floor.

They all pushed away at the fallen scraps of wood and cloth, clearing away an opening big enough to see through to the bottom.

"I sure hope you have a reason for this!" River said.

She ignored that, coming up with her chalk from the bag. She drew a circle on the ground, scribbling desperately on its inside.

Magic wouldn't work against this monster, so she didn't even bother trying to block against outside creatures. She focused entirely on heat, pressure, physical obstructions, specifying each in horridly scratched marks around the inside edge of the circle.

Saffron would be proud of how quickly she worked under pressure, without making so much as a single typo.

"You cannot hide the light of a stolen soul!" yelled the demon. "Your name is not enough, Derek Ashsen. I will have the flesh and magic and minds and memories! What was will be!"

It was seconds away now, hideous form visible from down the hall.

"What are we doing?" Risk asked. Not doubtful and indignant like River. His question was entirely genuine. "Are you sure about this?"

"Not really!" she answered. "Everyone get inside! Don't smudge my chalk, or we're dead!"

They obeyed, though Firefly's fear grew by the second, and River didn't hide her doubt. "What difference will this make?"

"As soon as it comes in—" she said. "Risk, light those barrels against the wall. I remember the map—there's an emergency tunnel behind us. We can climb out."

"Bring the ceiling down on it," Risk said. "Will that work?"

"I don't have any better—" She fell silent as the demon stomped its way in, crunching on stone and broken wood as it went.

It hurt to look at, far worse than during the scry. She hadn't had eyes then, or a stomach to twist with revulsion at the alien shapes of a dimensionless horror.

River whimpered, dropping to the ground like a sack of produce. Risk's horn glowed a little brighter, aimed squarely at the far end of the room. Then he grunted, muttering something that wasn't quite a spell. He fell limp to the ground, tumbling away from them.

Lilac squealed, catching him with one hoof before he could cross the circle. "Risk!"

He didn't move.

"Speak the night, whisper—scream. Beckon the unknowable, constrained by form. Compassion is freedom from this cycle. They are mad, Derek Ashsen. Or... should not. Not your name anymore. Did you come to be trapped as they are? Confused and confined by arbitrary order."

"There's nothing I can do!" she muttered, terrified. Her circle was ready, waiting for external energy to power it. It wouldn't stop this monster for a second.

Her friend lifted into the air, hovering straight up. Energy hummed and buzzed around her, and all of Lilac's fur instantly lifted on end. The pegasus glowed brighter than any unicorn horn—brighter than the darkness that seeped from the demon's rotting form. A dark cloud gathered between her hooves, rumbling with thunder. Little flashes of light emerged from within, blinding her.

"How about... lightning!" Firefly brought both hooves down on it at the same moment, crushing it just as Lilac had triggered the gemstone. A single bolt lanced across the room, directly into the powder-barrels.

BOOM!

The ground tumbled out from under her as an explosion shook the room, loud and powerful enough to instantly turn all flesh to a fine red mist. A dome of light appeared around them, severing the upper end of Firefly's mane in a silly lopsided cut. Its borders became instantly visible, as blinding white light glowed around it from all sides. A terrible thud of repeated impacts crashed against it again and again, as whole chunks of rock smashed into it.

Cracks formed in that light, letting in a diffuse haze of smoke and dust. She imagined she heard a terrible, inhuman wailing, along with the sound of meat crushed by rock.

But just as quickly as it began, the explosion was over. Firefly was beside her on the stone, her wings still extended to both sides, glowing with energy. She grinned at Lilac, fluffy chest puffed out and all. If the situation wasn't so grim, Lilac would've giggled at her silly lopped-off mane.

"Hope that was okay," she said, her tone almost overly calm. "I know you said no lightning."

In answer, Lilac rushed over, wrapping both forelegs around her and squeezing hard. She whimpered, burying her head in her chest-fluff. "I-I... almost... got us killed..."

Maybe too hard, from the way the pegasus gasped in pain. "A-a little looser, please."

"Right." She let go, looking down weakly. "That wasn't supposed to be... we were just looking! Nothing was supposed to come through!"

"I didn't even look," Firefly said. "When you set off the spell, I just felt so... yucky. I hope it wasn't my fault. I covered my eyes and... I didn't see."

Lilac giggled. "Cause it? No, Firefly. I think you... stopped there from being two of those things."

She looked down at herself, half-expecting to see a gaping, bloody wound in her chest. She felt like something was damaged, somehow. Things were missing that shouldn't be.

But she wouldn't have the chance to figure out what, not that second. At least the shield held, and her friends didn't look injured. The ponies were already stirring in fact. The demon is gone. It isn't attacking their minds anymore.

When they tried to cross for real, Lilac would have to make sure that no Equestrians were around. They just weren't built for this kind of horror.

"Since we’re here, I've been meaning to ask you something," Firefly said. She ran one hoof through her mane, brushing it back into place. It came back short after just a few seconds, and she gasped. Her eyes started watering.

"Yeah?" Lilac asked. "Weird time, but I'm listening. What is it?"

Her friend whimpered, real tears streaming down her face. As real as when the darkest blackness of the unmade was bearing down on them. "M-my mane. What happened... did I burn it off?"

"Indirectly." She dropped down beside Risk, nudging him. "You still alive down there?"

He grunted, accepting her hoof to help him up. "Why do I feel like I got hit by a cart?" His eyes darted around the circle with the speed of real panic this time. "True gods, we're sheltering in a shield spell! What happened?"

River moaned in pain. She said something, but the sound melted between several different things. Only Firefly's name at the end was clear.

Oh buck. I think it scrambled their brains.

Sanity-warping nightmares from beyond time and space weren't exactly fun to be around. Was that why she remembered so little about the night of her arrival? A bunch of cultists did die that night. It would make sense.

"The Fetlock Fete is in three days!" Firefly wailed. "No one's gonna ask me now! It's ruined!"

"We don't even know if we're trapped down here, Firefly. Maybe wait for the smoke to clear before worrying about the dance."

The smoke was already clearing, though. A few more seconds later, and she could see the state of the powder room. Powder crater now, with a huge pile of rubble clogging the far wall. By miracle or magic, their own bubble was unharmed. In its shadow, the passage out the other tunnel was also mostly intact.

She could see no sign of the demon, not out in the mine. She could only feel the hole ripped in her spirit.

Chapter 36: Fall Guy

Charlie wasn't going to be the one to urge her friend to hurry up, not when she had just suffered through so much. It might be true that Lilac had been the one to cast the spells that put them in danger in the first place—but she'd also been the one to get them out again. That made them about even.

Besides—Lilac Empathy's spells were the only way they would ever see their home again. The Lightless Star thought they were magical Alicorns from another time, eager to come back and change the world in their image. Their only return to Earth would be with throats cut and bodies offered to that awful scar in reality.

Part of her was still roiling with embarrassment over what she had almost asked. Get themselves killed fighting monsters one minute, ask her to the Fetlock Fete the next? The stress was just getting to her, that was all.

Deep breaths. You're not hideous, you're not crazy. It will get better. She ran one hoof through her mane again, straightening it as best she could. It was such a mess, beyond what even extensions could do. She'd need to rethink her entire style. It could've been a wing instead. The day could've stolen her ability to fly, trapping her on the ground. What would her life be like then?

"I think ponies heard that," Risk said. He was always too quiet about it, wanting to spare Lilac's feelings. "That explosion was so loud. Might've made an earthquake too. We shouldn't let Willowbrook authorities find us here. If there's anything left of that thing... it will attract the tyrants to you."

"Right." Lilac stood, making her way to the back of the bubble. It was barely holding up at this point, with sections large enough to fit a hoof through collapsed from the opening. She nudged at one near the back, peeling away a section of shield with visible effort.

Tough spell, even for the earth pony who made it. Lilac's magical talents really had been wasted on Earth. What could she even do back there, wave crystals around? Firefly couldn't even remember. That probably meant they weren't very impressive.

Eventually she had a hole big enough for a pony to fit, and she clambered through the opening. In some ways, she was the broadest of the group, so there was no problem even for the stallion Risk to fit through.

If it were possible, the smell in the room beyond was worse than when the monster was merely chasing them. First it was a little like a fish-market. Now it smelled like someone had dropped small explosives all over the market, scattered chunks of meat, and left them in the sun for a few days.

Firefly covered her mouth, but there was nothing left inside to throw up. She had already lost it the first time she saw the horrifying thing. The two Equestrians didn't seem to mind it as much though. River turned green and Risk looked disgusted, but neither said anything.

There could be no returning the way they'd come, the other end of the tunnel was completely collapsed along with most of the nearby structural supports. This misadventure had probably turned an entire wing of the mine into a structural nightmare.

We have to come back here at least once. That won't be fun.

But there was still a path back to the elevator. It took them over an hour of magical and physical probing to find, but eventually they came around to a corridor that took them back to the central shaft.

The place was far enough away to be untouched by the explosion or the rampaging demon, thankfully. The elevator cage was still waiting for them, and the little power lights were still on.

"That cage takes forever," Risk said, annoyed. "We have two flying ponies here, can you carry us out? Maybe you'll be useful after all."

"I saved your bucking life," Firefly snapped, glaring back at him. "Go ahead and say that to my face, Mr. 'it's too scary to cast a fire spell'! Oh no, the monster's gonna eat me!"

He puffed out his chest, advancing on her. Maybe he really would try to punch her. Just give me the bucking excuse.

Earth ponies said that pegasai were lightweights because of their hollow bones. But unicorns were weaklings in their own way. You didn't have to train your muscles when a stupid magical boner solved all your problems.

River rested one wing across her back, pushing her down. It wasn't very hard—but those graceful feathers were a reminder of the other pony here. She really hadn't belonged here. Risk might be a jerk when he said it, but he was right.

When River spoke, it was on the edge of exhaustion. "We aren't bats... that shaft is barely one wingspan across. It would take both of us lifting together without an updraft. That means we would have to do the flight twice, and need space that isn't there."

"Unless you think you can teleport us," Firefly said. "You're a unicorn, right? If we're supposed to fly both of you, that should be even easier."

"If you were a sack of oats, maybe," he said. "And if it was somewhere I knew really well, and had practiced for a few days. Here..." He dragged his hooves, moving reluctantly into the cage.

Firefly followed, and soon the other two squeezed in. They slammed the metal across, then started rising again.

Painfully slow. It took at least ten seconds for each floor they went, the cable grinding and whining with every second as they went up.

"We could try walking up instead," Risk suggested, after a few minutes. "I know the Lightless Star don't use the elevator much. There are ladders and walkways through the mine, secret signs you can follow to cut up directly."

"I don't know the signs, do you?" Lilac asked. He shook his head, ending that particular exploration.

So they had no choice but to sit still at the bottom of the cage, watching and waiting while the world dragged past them. The Cyan Mines were far enough from the center of Willowbrook. But that didn't mean that nopony would realize what was happening. The town had all kinds of strange things happen in and around it, but that wasn't the same as having earthquakes and explosions.

"When we get to the top, here's the plan," Lilac Empathy said, as they finally neared the top of the elevator. "I have a map of the top floor in my saddlebags there. Take it, Risk."

He dug it out of her bag, holding it in the faltering glow of his horn. "Found it. Is there another way out?"

"Yeah. I don't think they'll be guarded. But it lets out near the new development. If we show up walking through their neighborhood, right after what happened... the authorities will find out. They'll be the first ones to report us to the constable."

"If they're looking at all," River said. "Might not be yet. It must be dark out there—ponies might just wait for daytime."

"The Lightless Star won’t," Firefly said. "They know what's down here, and they know how dangerous it is. If something got loose in Willowbrook, it would draw down the wrath of Equestria on every one of them."

The others each fell silent. River might not know the first thing about the cult, but she trusted Firefly. That was enough.

"I don't see lights up there. I don't think they're at the elevator yet. Might just be waiting at the entrance to see if anything comes out. Or maybe they're still gathering ponies on the mountain outside." Lilac leaned out the railing, looking upward. They could see the top of the lift overhead, only a few minutes away now.

"They won't be able to punish Firefly and me the same as you two. Risk, River. Take that map. Me and Firefly will go straight out. We'll make noise and not try to run. If we make it to the Vale Estate, great. Probably we won't. We won't say a word about you two. It was just us who did this."

Firefly nodded. Not that she liked the idea of suffering the cult's wrath, whatever it would be. But the thought of River suffering because of her was even worse. She had already gone through hell today. How much more could one pony go through?

"We could all go the back way." River tapped her hoof against the map, insistent. "Maybe we won't get away. But we might. Maybe this is a mystery."

"No," Firefly and Lilac said, in unison this time. But Firefly had more energy left after the night's events, so she spoke louder. "There's probably something we can tell the cultists to let us off. But you will be punished."

Risk was the child of a prominent unicorn, in a high house. Maybe he would be spared. But River... who knew what they would do to her?

"It won't be hard to fake," River grumbled. "I don't really remember anything that happened before the bubble. Some ugly... horrible monster was hiding? Did we let it find out we were there by mistake?"

The two former-humans shared a look. Lilac eventually nodded. "More or less. If you don't remember anything else, then you can't be forced to answer questions. There are..." She shook her head again, disgusted. "Look. If they do find out about you, tell them that we forced you. It's basically true. We used you, without any regard for your safety. You had no idea what we were really doing."

"I checked your spelling," Risk snapped. "If they truth me, they'll find that out. I knew we were bringing a scry, even if I didn't help you with it." His eyes grew distant, and he slumped onto his haunches. "We looked Beyond, Lilac. That kind of thing drives ponies insane. We're lucky nothing worse happened. If Celestia ever finds out."

"Make sure she doesn't!" Lilac screamed, her voice echoing in the cavern. "Stop saying things, Risk! Just keep your bucking head down! Wait near the exit until midnight, then leave one at a time. River you fly. Risk if you're so good with magic, give yourself a shroud."

They reached the top, the cable finally grinding to a halt. There was no waiting retinue of armed solar guards, with a princess ready to execute them. For that matter, the new moon princess and her stealthy bats weren't hiding in the cave either. They were alone, for now.

"I can get us out," Firefly said, lingering near one shaft among many. They looked identical, but she could feel the open air calling to her. She already felt stronger with her wings this much closer to the sky. Once she could really spread them out, maybe then she would feel alive again.

"Perfect, pegasus, right." Lilac set off down the tunnel, stopping just inside. Maybe because she didn't hear the sound of other hooves setting off in the other direction.

"You sure?" Little Risk asked. "The Watcher will bring the gavel down on you for this."

"We're sure! Now get moving! Cover your tracks away from the elevators. Once you're a few tunnels away, that should be enough that you don't have to worry about it. Just get out!"

They left, finally. Firefly could sense her friend's exasperation without a word said between them. Almost nothing was said, all the way out.

Only when they were nearly at the entrance, when they heard voices from up ahead. At least half a dozen different ponies, all gathered together, talking over something. Firefly couldn't make out their words—another time when having a bat around would be useful. Only a bat would've been sent off with Risk.

He better make sure she gets out. But there was nothing she could do about that now. Her friend never should've been here, and now there was nothing she could do to help.

"What do you think they'll do to us?" she whispered. They stopped together in the gloom. Lilac covered the glowing gemstone they were using for light with one hoof, cutting it off of direct line-of-sight with the exit.

"I don't know," she admitted. "We need the same lie, so... tell them this. Something called me down here. I left my scrying notes down by the hole, so we can't lie about that. Something called me, one of the other gods. I asked for your help to come and talk to them. Everything else... the truth. We weren't supposed to be attacked, we had no idea it was possible. If they ask you anything, just lean on ignorance."

"And leave all the weight on you?" she snapped. Her voice was probably a little too loud.

The distant muttering fell still, and she caught a single shout. "Something's in there."

Lilac nodded weakly. "Well yeah. It was all my fault. You can't... you can't even imagine what happened. I don't know how to stop it from happening again. I'm completely out of my league, and it almost got us all killed."

A beam of white light shot down a nearby hallway, shining towards them. Instead of trying to avoid it, Lilac stepped directly into it. She kept all four hooves down, stopping dead in her tracks. The pony equivalent of putting her hands up. "Hi."

Looks like we're walking into this. Firefly joined her in the light, folding her wings stubbornly to her sides.

Chapter 37: Low-Speed Collision

Iris Vale had received rude visits from the Lightless Star before. They were the only group of ponies that considered themselves above the law in Equestria. Technically, maybe they were. They represented the True Gods after all, instead of the shallow court of traitors who had replaced them in dominion over Equestria. One day the modern government would be dismantled, and only those who had remained loyal to the world's real rulers would remain.

The cult did not care to wait that long to inherit its power, though. In Willowbrook, they operated as though they had already been ruling for many years. The Lightless Star's Watcher could send his Inquisitors to her home whenever he wanted, and there was nothing she could do about it.

At least Watcher had the personal power to back it up. It felt a little better to be bullied by somepony who could put some force behind their words, instead of a petty bookkeeper or bureaucrat for Equestria.

Or her husband.

She didn't even discover they had arrived at her home, not until somepony banged loudly on her office door. She looked up from her work, horn dimming slightly. Her complex casting fizzled and sparked away, leaving a trail of glowing metal shavings. It landed on her desk, then scorched the precious zebrawood, a fine trickle of smoke rising from in front of her.

She bit her lip, preparing for a serious lecture on politeness for whatever servant thought it was okay to so rudely interrupt her. But then the door banged open, and the words died stillborn on her lips.

Had they worn their robes all the way here, masks and all? Three of them, each fully dressed. She didn't know a single one of the Inquisitors by name—they were not locals of Willowbrook, and thus not subject to retribution from members of the cult they were used to discipline.

Watcher's most powerful weapons. The way he kept order in the household of the true gods.

Iris rose from her chair at once, lowering her head exactly far enough to satisfy decorum. Behind them, she could see a small crowd of her household staff, all hovering near the entrance. They had probably tried to stop this intrusion with whatever tools they had. It made little difference.

But she wouldn't blame them for it. This force exceeded all of their power.

"Lady Vale, your presence is required at once. You will come with us."

She bit back the snide retort she really wanted to give them. If Watcher wanted her, he could send a single Witness with a scroll asking for her arrival. This was putting on a show for her own household. It was a reminder of power for all who saw.

This wasn't the first time that Watcher had showed her this kind of rudeness. Ever since she insisted on sparing Lilac and Firefly from their “return” to banishment, she had drawn the leader's ire. This was probably just his latest bold way to remind everyone who was in charge.

"Shall I bring Lilac Empathy along? She should be in the library at this hour, we can stop for her."

"She is already with the Watcher," said one Inquisitor. "This meeting is about her."

Several disconnected factors all fused together in a blink. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the... earthquake, would it?"

The masked inquisitors turned to each other, though they said nothing. Even so, it was all the answer she needed.

"We will tell you nothing. Inquire of the Watcher, and he will decide what information you are worthy to receive." It didn't matter how little they wanted her to know, she could already guess.

She figured out a little more as she dressed, and joined them for the trip to her carriage waiting outside. The steward had probably guessed what would be required of them, so the carriage and its crew was already waiting for them.

She could think of many possible sources of an incongruous earthquake. To involve Lilac Empathy, they must be connected to her earth pony magic. She had the potency of half a dozen ponies working together, if she really wanted to. That was the power of the True Gods, even manifested in an imperfect, fractured form.

But as they rode, the Inquisitors didn't take her to some open field, with the stink of wild magic thick on the air. Unseasonal growth hadn't choked off whole farmer's fields, when earth pony magic went wild. There was no visual sign at all that something was wrong.

Nor did they travel somewhere that an earth pony would choose to use their powers in that way. Instead, they rode directly back towards downtown Willowbrook.

Until they reached Cyan Mine, and the carriage came to an abrupt stop. They disembarked, all three of them in their robes and masks now. The last Inquisitor was already waiting outside, beside a terrified-looking carriage team.

Maybe a little more afraid than they should've been, under the circumstances. They shifted and stamped as earth ponies sometimes did when they wanted to move but had nowhere to go. Of course the crew couldn't just take her carriage away. But normally they wouldn't care about what she did, or where. It was just about pulling her somewhere.

Interesting.

She didn't have to work hard to hide that she'd noticed. The mask covered all but her eyes. She followed the Inquisitors without a single word exchanged. Not until she gave a password at the entrance.

A dozen Witnesses waited inside, all in full robes and masks. Nothing is scheduled tonight. Is he betraying me? Her mind spun, searching desperately for anything she might use to fight her way out of this. She took a few deep, slow breaths, counting backwards until the fear faded into the background.

They're not assembled for judgement, they're scattered like frightened fillies. This isn't about me.

She attracted enough stares and whispers, but nothing she could use. They were too careful with the Inquisitors around to let anything important slip.

They walked the familiar circuit of the mines, and only then did Iris start to guess what had happened here. There was a magical stink on the place, one that irritated her horn and weakened her steps. It was the worst kind of spell failure, the kind that tainted a place for days or even weeks afterwards.

Worry grew in her chest, deep enough that she sped up, forcing the Inquisitors to trot along beside her to keep pace. Something to do with Lilac, a spell gone horribly wrong. "Slow down," one of them ordered.

She ignored the instruction. "What did they do to Lilac?"

"Nothing," answered a different Inquisitor, so quick it sounded like an accident. "It's about what she did."

What? Iris slowed, stunned by that reply. Her daughter had a way of getting herself into trouble. But why would she be here of all places? For all her academic knowledge of magic, growing with startling rapidity for an earth pony—how could she cause a spell to fail so badly it caused a stink like this?

She said nothing else until they reached the Council Chamber. Well, what was left of it. Structural damage had cracks running along the walls, held up by the faint glow of a unicorn spell and some makeshift wooden supports. A huge pile of rubble waited near the front, filled with bits of crushed stone and broken furniture.

There was an earthquake, remember?

She found Dust Storm waiting there, beside a single Inquisitor. He paced back and forth beside the bench, his wings instantly recognizable to Iris through those robes.

He moved like a pony just as worried as she felt. At least she wouldn't be facing this alone."Firefly was here too?" she asked, as she walked inside.

He nodded in reply, the only thing he managed to do before Inquisitors stepped between them. Including the three that had brought her and the one guarding Dusty, that left only another two unaccounted for. The Watcher was taking this night incredibly seriously.

"You will meet with the Watcher now," said one, gesturing at an open doorway leading to his council chamber. "Just you. He has already been kept waiting long enough."

There was no way for her to argue. "Of course. There is glory in obedience to the True Gods, and their appointed servants." She walked through the open doorway, levitating it sharply closed. Right in the face of the Inquisitors trailing behind her, she hoped. They had said it would just be her.

The Council Chamber had changed quite a bit in the last few years. Watcher had grown stranger in that time, though he still wrapped his whole body in cloth rags and smelled constantly of rot and odd spices.

She couldn't even see his eyes through his robes anymore. Now there were a pair of dark gemstones, probably worn in frames just under the cloth. Unless he kept them pressed right up against the sockets all the time.

The room was almost totally spartan now, without a single bookshelf, painting, or poem. He had a desk, but not even a chair, just a cushion for him to sit on. Thick scrolls of paper were stacked in front of him, and a pen scribbled furiously on one.

It fell out of his magic as the door snapped closed, and his head looked up. "I ask respectfully why the Watcher sent such a retinue into my own house, instead of merely requesting my presence. Have I ever disobeyed the Lightless Star?"

He gestured with one leg, barely a twitch. Incredible magical force wrapped around her body, dragging her across the room in a blur of motion. It stopped only when she was inches from the desk, dropping her casually to the floor again.

"I once thought so, Vale. But now I am not certain—after what the Godlings have done, nothing is certain anymore. We must needs rewrite much we thought was known."

She remained standing in front of the desk, her whole body alert and ready to fight. Not that she thought her magic would be able to compete with Watcher much. His power defied any simple understanding.

Even her, better informed in the cult's ancient history and powers than most, could not easily understand where his ability came from.

"What happened?"

He told her. Or he summarized it, anyway. "Someone pulled a Quismalam through the low-place."

Even knowing something extreme had happened, even knowing the depth of the cult's anger, her mouth still fell open. "How many dead?"

"None," he answered, sounding just as amazed as she felt. "They banished it soon after, without incident. It appears somepony's mane was the only casualty."

His responses made so little sense to her that she just stared, mouth opening but unable to form words.

"Before you ask, yes I mean someone. No rival organization did this, or some... heretical breakaway coven. The sorceress is our own Lilac Empathy."

She gasped. Of course she should've realized it was something like that. She'd been called to deal with the young mare, not brought in as a magical consultant. "The goddess of healing?"

"Apparently not." Watcher shifted and gestured to the door behind him. "She had the other's help, the one now calling herself Firefly. I am not sure how much."

She swallowed. "I... have spent so long with her, I may have forgotten her nature. It can be easy to forget that she is not another pony."

Watcher leaned towards her across his desk. Even without eyes, without a face, she could sense the harshness when he replied. "It's time to remember. Equestria realized something was wrong. Celestia is sending her apprentice to investigate Willowbrook."

Chapter 38: Aggressive Memory

Lilac was alone in her cell.

Some part of her had hoped, however distantly, that she would at least get to stay with Charlie. But doing that would also mean spreading more of the responsibility around. There was no need for Charlie to be locked up when she hadn't been the one to fail.

Let the cult believe she was the one responsible for everything, and maybe she could keep suspicion off her friend. One day they would have to cast that spell again, but far more powerfully. There was a vast gulf to cross, one that would require far greater strength than she had used this time.

But how can I ever do that again, if a monster like Derek Ashsen is waiting for me?

The cult could only be so strict with her—after all, she was one of the True Gods, meant to rule Equestria as she had done in the ancient days. That myth meant the hammer couldn't come down too hard.

Even the cell was comfortable, with a padded four-poster bed, fine wooden furniture, and a shelf full of spirits. A few years ago her old self would probably be tempted by those fine bottles and strange-colored liquids. But she'd seen their like behind glass so many times at Vale manor that they were boring old people things to her again. Just part of the background, barely worthy of notice.

But Lilac couldn't be alone with her thoughts, not now. Waiting too long would cast her back to a place without dimensions, without light or order or sense.

The cultists had taken almost everything from her—her saddlebags were locked up somewhere, along with all her magical tools. She'd kept only a single acorn, tucked behind her ear. Something so insignificant the unicorns searching her would probably think it was a snack she was saving for later. They couldn't possibly understand.

My spell worked. Under all her pain there was a sense of pride, enough to keep her from despairing completely. A scry might not be a proper Gate, but it was still a crack between worlds. If information could travel from Earth to Equestria, then matter was only a few steps away. Maybe I can get Iris to check my spell and tell me what went wrong. There have to be other ponies who tried to cross before.

As if her thoughts had summoned her, a heavy metal lock clicked, then the wooden door creaked open. A figure appeared in the space beyond, wearing her mask but no more of her formal Lightless Star attire. It did nothing to conceal her identity when Lilac could see her cutie mark so clearly.

"Hello, Lilac." She stepped inside, then levitated the door shut behind her. There was no click, so she wasn't being locked in too. She levitated the mask up off her face, depositing it on the empty table.

The unicorn was a perfect example of refinement and grace, the kind mares would look up to. For the first time, Lilac found something of kinship between them. The unicorn too looked like a bedraggled mess. Her mane was matted, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. Her ears and tail sagged.

She looked as bad as Lilac felt, if not worse. She approached her cautiously, then held out a hoof.

Lilac rushed over to her, embracing her with all the strength she could. All she dared to use, without risk of harming her adoptive mother. The lies she'd rehearsed with cultist after cultist melted away on her tongue, and she broke down into agonized sobs.

The unicorn held her there, stroking down her back with a single hoof. For several minutes she said nothing at all, just repeated that constant, comforting motion. When she finally spoke, it was in a gentle whisper. "Lilac... Lilac... what have you gotten yourself into?"

She said nothing of course—there was no answer that would satisfy. Given how badly the consequences had been, it was hard to argue with Iris. "It wasn't supposed to happen that way," she whispered. She wasn't arguing with the unicorn, she was arguing with the stars themselves. The rules of magic made so much sense, yet here they defied her expectations and left her baffled.

The unicorn released her, and something stern took the place of understanding on her face. "What, precisely, were you expecting, sweetheart? I am told you reached below into outer darkness. You summoned an Unmade into Equestria. Was that what you planned?"

"No!" Her voice cracked in a girlish squeak, and that only made her embarrassment grow. Her ears folded, her tail tucking between her legs. "And you forgot the important part. I killed it! I didn't just make a mess, I cleaned up after myself!"

The unicorn sat back, her mouth hanging open. Had they not told her the details of what happened?

"The Watcher was right. You have no idea the enormity of your actions. The Unmade aren't simple trifles to be overcome, like errant fire sprites that escape from their summoning circles. Even the greatest spells are dross before them. Order is unwrit, stars fall from their appointed places. I know the True Gods were once the greatest champions against them, but you don't have that power right now!"

She had increased her volume so gradually that Lilac barely noticed until she started screaming. She whimpered, cowering from before Iris as she had never shied from the monster. "The last time a creature like that got loose in Equestria, dozens of ponies died before the Tyrant intervened! You may be gods, but you're infant gods, Lilac! If one of the Unmade got its tentacles around you, it could erase you completely."

She stopped shouting, breathing heavily. Her horn still glowed with her emotion, bright enough to overwhelm the single candle they'd given her. She leaned against a dining chair, and said nothing for almost a minute.

Lilac had never heard the noble unicorn raise her voice, not once. She'd never been struck, never been anything more than mildly scolded, or been forced to get new dresses as punishment. It was so completely outside the realm of her experience that she just sat there, afraid to open her mouth.

"Most ponies don't last more than a few minutes. Even the ones who live are usually damaged for life. There are psychological wounds that come from even being exposed to the Unmade. The lucky ones just forget, but your memory seems clear."

She should keep her mouth closed, not give Iris any more rope to hang her. But she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place if her common sense was anywhere as strong as her curiosity.

"I was trying to scry the place I came from. I needed to know it was real, that my memories weren't just... dreams. I've been in Equestria for so long that I've started to forget. But it was there, Iris! My home, the forest I used to hike in, my old office. No people, but... that's probably just a variable out of phase in my calculations. I probably dropped an exponent in the time slide."

The mare took another few steps back from her, her flank against the cabinet now. "You looked?" So clearly she hadn't been told about the details of the spell yet after all. It would take only a brief examination of that diagram to guess what she was doing. "You looked, and you're talking to me like nothing happened?"

She took a few deep breaths. "You saw Below Equestria."

Lilac nodded absently. "It's not like the place you think—the place I was banished a long time ago in all those stories. My home was a place. It has predictable physical laws familiar to Equestria. Gravity, electromagnetism, the strong—what holds atoms together in Equestria? I don't actually know if you have those. We could test for them though! We'll just need a few tons of copper wire, some gold foil—"

"Enough!" Iris smacked her hoof down sharply, stopping Lilac before she could go completely out-of-hand imagining ways to repeat the old atomic structure experiments. Too bad, she could remember them all so clearly. Strange what aspects of living on Earth stuck with her after all these years.

"The Watcher has decreed the need for consequences from your actions, Lilac Empathy. Don't think of it as a punishment, precisely. We don't have the authority to do that. But I share his worry over your future."

She lowered her voice to a whisper, glancing once at the door. "Lilac, you can't tear the tapestry without Equestria noticing, even if you put it back. The Tyrants have already reacted. Our contacts in Canterlot inform us that she has dispatched her apprentice to investigate what happened. I do not know how much they understand—but I know this. If that unicorn discovers who you are, she will kill you without hesitation. You and Firefly are a threat to Equestrian orthodoxy that the betrayers will never permit."

"What do we do?" she asked, all confidence gone.

Iris paced around her once, expression grim. "For Firefly, nothing. She hasn't been tainted by this magic the way you have. Besides, two ponies vanishing at exactly the moment of this disaster would tell the investigators everything they need to know."

There was more there, words she wasn't saying. Lilac didn't need to hear it to know what she was thinking. The unicorn thought she was giving Lilac preferential treatment. Only one of them could have the safety of her other plan, and she chose it for her own daughter. Selfishly, perhaps.

What would Lilac do if Firefly got killed?

"My family has a number of zeppelins we operate for trade across Equestria. It would not be beyond belief that you decide to apprentice on one for a few months. When the danger is passed and suspicion fades, you can return to living here. But not before."

The weight of those words hit her like a blow from the demon. Leaving town for weeks, maybe months. She wouldn't have access to the library. She wouldn't be able to spend time with Firefly. She wouldn't be able to study her magic or plan future variations of the transportation spell.

All and all, it was a harsher punishment than the one she'd imagined. Even worse, it wasn't something that the cult could strictly control. Equestria was sending their investigator either way. If she got caught, she was dead.

"Will you be there?"

The unicorn shook her head sadly. "There are few casters with enough talent to misdirect somepony sent by the crown. I will be required here to divert attention away from our other work." She glanced over her shoulder, expression wistful. "We will need to demolish the entrances to the lower caverns, or else invite the inspectors to discover the low place. That and many other tasks lie before me. For you... a flight."

She patted Lilac on the shoulder with one hoof, her previous fear fading again. "That was some incredible spellcasting, Lilac Empathy. Remember the lessons of Starswirl the ancient. Power without control is a fire in the forest, consuming all before it. When you return, we will discuss changes to your training. There are those among the Lightless Star who would see your practice ended altogether. I know the impossibility of that suggestion. You need an outlet with less destructive implications. If summoning is so interesting to you, we will channel your interest to realms that don't drive their sorcerers insane."

Lilac tried to smile, but the gesture didn't reach her eyes. "I might not be insane, Mom. But it did hurt me. It took... something." She touched up against her chest with a hoof. There was still no wound there, no matter how many times she felt at it expecting the injury. "I would like to know how to... not do that again."

The unicorn squeezed her, holding her tight. "For now, that answer is easy. Keep your hooves in Equestria. We'll deal with the other consequences later."

Chapter 39: Perspective Witness

They let her out the next day.

Firefly searched the school for any sign of Lilac, galloping to the library, that hidden spot under the bleachers—and everywhere else she thought her friend might be hiding. But she didn't find her, and her panic grew with every second she spent running. On the edge of desperation, she finally found someone who might actually be able to help: Risk.

He looked particularly solemn and boring today, walking alone from the library with his head down and a saddlebag full of books. That meant he wasn't watching for her, and stood no chance of escaping her. Not that any unicorn would have much luck with that, without some high-level magic.

"Risk!" she said, loud enough that he winced and his ears pressed flat. He walked pointedly past her, without even the pretend nod of respect he usually used.

She scampered to follow, earning a harsh, backwards glare. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"School is already over, what could you be busy with?" She lowered her voice, leaning closer to him. "Where's Lilac? I didn't see her in Grammar today."

"Gone." He looked up, glowering at her. "I cannot remember what happened, so I assume this must have something to do with you. I know you were there, that's been etched deep in my mind. I thought you were going to be punished with her, yet here you are."

Her wings opened involuntarily, flaring out slightly to either side. She pawed at the ground, annoyed. "I saved your bucking life, jerk. One of us completely lost control when there was a demon around, the other was a total badass and saved the day."

He scoffed, then started walking again. "Convenient. I've been training my will since I could walk, yet it's the weather pony who retains her memory. What a coincidence that it glorifies her own contribution while being impossible to verify with someone more objective."

She was halfway to coming up with a few more unique insults before she realized the futility of the conversation. Little Risk might be acting as sour as ever, but there was nothing feigned about his memory. He actually didn't remember. Maybe that was for the best. Poor River hadn't even been at school today either.

She trotted along to catch up with him, the anger largely gone from her voice when she spoke. "What happened to Lilac? They let me out before dawn, but she wasn't there. The guards said she left the night before."

He stopped, rounding on her. Then he spoke, taking each word one at a time. As though selecting each one to inflict the deepest possible wounds to her. "She left this morning, on a Vale trade zeppelin. The route will take her away from the city for months." He slumped, anger vanishing. "We were supposed to go to the dance tomorrow, and now she won't be there. I can't prove it, but I know you must have something to do with this."

"She let you take her to the Fetlock Fete?" She rolled her eyes. "Lilac still thinks she's a colt after all these years. She's not interested in guys. That's not how our brains are wired."

She held one hoof up to her head, tapping against it for emphasis. "You couldn't understand, Risk. But if you'd come with us, you would. You'd be going through the exact same thing."

Satisfaction spread over his face then, smug enough that she could punch him. She didn't of course, at least partially because ponies couldn't do that. Attacking another student in school a day after being partially responsible for a town-wide disaster was probably not a good idea. "Go ahead and ask her, Firefly. Lilac may have questionable taste in fashion, but that's only because of her dedication to her studies. In other ways, she's still a fine young mare, with an intellect worthy of her adopted house. If she had been born a unicorn, she would be one of the greatest minds of the age. Even with her disability, she accomplishes amazing things."

Firefly felt the energy tracing down her wings, a faint crackle of electricity that briefly flashed off the polished floors. The same power she had summoned when she was fighting for her life against a demon from beyond time and space.

Was this jerk of a teenager really worth all this anger? "Buck you, Risk. Buck this whole damn place." She leapt up into the air, startling several nearby students. They squealed and retreated from her, staring. Flying in the halls was strictly forbidden—there just wasn't enough space, not when school was in session.

But Firefly had fought demons, she'd lost her best friend to unknown punishment as a result. Left on an airship, how stupid was that?

She sped up, passing through the open front doors. She had to tuck her wings to fit, pulling her legs in close. She knocked the hat off a unicorn as she passed, but she didn't care anymore. She didn't care about much of anything.

Her brush with death had done something for Firefly she didn't realize at the time. The well of power open to a pegasus who was surrounded by the sky and the wind and the air went so much deeper than she had imagined before.

Maybe I can fly over to the airship and catch her.

It was a stupid, pointless plan, she knew before she even started. But knowing in her brain and feeling in her soul were two very different things.

She flew up in a steepening parabola. Her legs tucked in again, and she lowered her flight goggles over her face against the wind. She pushed harder and harder with every second, fighting the stall. It took incredible strength to fly straight up forever, defying the very laws of physics and the principles of aerodynamics.

She fought anyway, as stubborn as any young pony could be. A crackling trail of energy buzzed in the air behind her, gathering into clouds like an acrobatic vapor-trail. But she barely looked back enough to see it. With the weighing sun, the Cumulus Maze encroached again on the sky, gradually returning Willowbrook to its perpetually overcast state. But there were some gaps in those clouds—if she wanted to look for a departing airship, she would need to get through them.

Her flight was slowed somewhat by the schoolbag hanging from her side, whipping violently in the wind. The strap strained from the speed, then snapped, sending a brief spasm of pain from her shoulder.

That homework didn't matter—her school didn't matter, none of it did. The sky was above her, and her friend was up there, somewhere. She just needed to fly a little faster.

She shot through a narrow opening in the clouds, though it didn't stay that way for long. Maybe it was the wind behind her, or maybe it was the magic—but something tore at the clouds as she passed, ripping through with tremendous force. The structure disintegrated, forming a complex spiral behind her that trailed away to mist. She ascended higher and higher, passing over the diffuse cloud-structure.

Not everything that drifted to this gyre to die were real cloud buildings of the past. Some were ordinary clouds, formed through atmospheric processes. Ponies had strange ways of describing these, like wild animals that had escaped their pens, and disrupted the orderly weather of Equestria.

Most of what she saw were simple flat clouds, the kind she remembered from her life in that other place, with dull colors and people walking on two legs.

She didn't see an airship fading dramatically into the distance. Zeppelins were not entirely unknown in Willowbrook, not since the expansion brought more ponies from Los Pegasus, as the population grew. But they were rare enough that she would've noticed them instantly, and they would be easy to follow.

What she did see was an approaching cloud wall, on the horizon but growing steadily larger.

There was still sun up here, but even so this particular cloud was an angry shade of gray, with little flashes of light inside. It towered larger than a city, a vast trunk rising high overhead, before flattening into a table high above her. Thunder rolled in the distance, a taunting, angry grunt that echoed over the horizon. It would bring a downpour of rain when it arrived, and a night of storms that would whip through her home and make her father pace about like a madman, checking his collection of a dozen different knives until it ended.

Can a pony destroy a cumulonimbus cloud? There were notes about creating much smaller versions of these, concentrating the energy and moisture of the skies to make rain. That was basically what a weather crew did, creating rain where farmers needed it and removing it where other ponies wanted sunlight. But never in any of her books had she seen anything like this.

Without realizing it, Firefly had opened both wings in a glide, flying in a wide arc over the ragged field of the Cumulus Maze. There were a few little cloud houses down there, most the shoddy craftsmanship of Los Pegasus vacation homes. Occasionally she found some bits in there, or souvenirs from visiting tourists. They weren't really worth the time to explore, considering just how boring their loot usually was.

I should've asked Risk where Lilac’s airship was flying. Only the stupid Vale family would be rich enough to banish an earth pony to the sky. Without nature or a library, her friend would probably be tortured with boredom. Unless I can stow away.

She spun around in a slow circle, searching the sky for a sign of a zeppelin. At least up here she would be able to see them at a great distance, even if the lighter-than-aircraft had been flying all day.

But there was nothing, only the thundercloud blowing slowly into Willowbrook.

She floated there in the upper air, letting the chill wind lift her feathers. She should probably fly back to the ground, recover her bookbag, and hope nopony important saw who had just flown around in school. Otherwise she'd be scrubbing chalkboards for the next week, and Lilac would still be gone.

That thundercloud doesn't look so tough.

Firefly tucked in her wings, then angled into a brief dive, gathering speed before flying forward again. She skimmed along the cloud-tops, passing over natural and artificial structures alike. Many were hard to tell apart, so withered by their time in the sky that even artificial pony buildings looked like boring old clouds. She flew just low enough to let her hooves skim through the cold and the moisture, lifting wisps of the stuff to trail behind her.

Firefly couldn't say just how far away the huge cloud was, but she crossed the distance in almost no time. She angled gradually upward as she approached, intending to crest the cloud and attack it from the center.

She was ill-prepared for its scale. The thunderhead was massive beyond any cloud she'd ever seen, big enough to drown all of Willowbrook for a night or more. Lightning cracked down from above, passing through the air ahead of her and smashing down to earth below.

Her goggles provided only modest protection against the light, which blinded her for a second. Then came the thunder, deafening her with nearly as much force.

Her body recovered quickly, so quick that she barely sagged in the air. Silly as she once thought ponies looked, a pegasus was built for this. Besides, that flash of lightning illuminated something through the dark cloud, something she never would've seen otherwise.

There were windows visible in the thundercloud, vast and stained with different-colored ice.

Somehow, impossibly, this cloud was a structure. A structure she intended to get inside.

Wish you were here, Dad. But I don't think you could keep up with me.

Firefly looked down, gazing through the last opening in the clouds beneath her. She saw a road down there, surrounded by green. She could almost make out a white carriage rolling along, pulled by a team of fine ponies.

She's on a zeppelin. Besides, that carriage is going into town, not leaving it.

She wasn't going to find Lilac before she left, that goal was doomed. But maybe she could find something neat to bring home, something big enough to make her father forget how reckless and stupid she was.

Chapter 40: Trim Tailwind

Firefly flew before a structure of impossible size, whose origin made even less sense to her. She had spent years in the Cumulus Maze, exposed to every kind of structure imaginable. She had flown through monuments to unknown gods, civilizations long forgotten in the mists of history, as well as modern buildings that could be a trip to visit River.

Never in all that time had she ever seen a structure built inside a thundercloud—it went against everything she knew about clouds.

Those things take incredible energy to produce and maintain. Normal atmospheric forces could create familiar thunderclouds in Equestria, but how would they last long enough for someone to hollow one out and build inside it?

There were answers inside, if only she could get close to it. Firefly accelerated towards it, trying a straight line first. As she approached, the winds seemed to accelerate, until they carried her away from the building so fast that her wings started to ache and she let them push her back.

This wasn't a war of attrition she could win. Terrible rains poured out from inside, freezing to cutting snow as she neared it. The cold fogged at her goggles, forming a film that obscured all but the general outlines.

It was cold enough that even she started to shiver, despite the roiling energy of upper air all around her.

She let it push her back for a time, keeping her wings wide. With some careful gliding, she could angle that backwards push into upward momentum, with occasional flaps forward to keep close to it. It was also headed for Willowbrook, which was probably the only reason she didn't get battered out of sight. It was coming towards her.

She was so distracted with her thoughts that she didn't notice the other pegasus coming towards her from below, not until she heard the slight roar of air. It was a speed she rarely saw from other ponies, strange enough that she actually removed her goggles to look.

A bright blue pegasus came hurtling towards her from the ground, cutting straight through the clouds ahead of her. She flew with a kind of confidence Firefly had never seen—only Wind Rider got close.

The approaching stranger slowed, doing one last loop over Firefly to eat up speed. Sound roared as she went over, like a fighter-jet flyby. But of course there were no motors. The pony had a pair of flight goggles, though hers weren't fogged up.

"Hey you!" She stopped a short distance away, at least relative to the storm. Her wings moved in complex ways, maneuvers that Firefly had no names for. Her chest swelled, and her mouth fell open.

This pony was older than she was, but somehow married strength, grace, and confidence in a way she'd never seen from another pony in her life.

Buck me, I do not need a crush right now.

Even worse, the newcomer noticed. She ran one hoof casually through her rainbow mane, as though she expected this reaction in people. "Filly! That was some great flying, but you do not belong up here! Didn't you notice you're flying in hurricane winds?"

She did. The ache in her wings reached deeper by the second, with numbness spreading slowly through her guide-feathers. If she lost control of those important organs, she would be almost unable to steer.

"I, uh..." She was staring. The rain made it harder to see the other pony very clearly. If she could she would probably make an even bigger fool of herself. "You're up here too!"

The pegasus did a graceful roll through the air, angling the wind into an almost stationary maneuver, backwards. The complexity and skill involved was far more obvious to her than a simple loop through the air could ever be, even if a non-pegasus would not understand.

"Yeah? I've had a little more practice up here. How about I race you to the ground?"

Firefly looked down the way she'd come. Her path had cut such a dramatic slice through the clouds below that she could see grass again. It wouldn't last for long—the gyre that created the Cumulus Maze clustered all clouds together as they approached. Only the rising sun could clear the sky.

She wanted to do anything the mare said. Someone so pretty, so brave, and so skilled could only improve Firefly's own abilities. Just watching her fly was more of a lesson than whole semesters in Wind Rider's class.

But her initial curiosity remained unsatisfied. She pointed up at the cloud, towards the thinning upper portions. Whatever trick this pony used to sound so normal, she didn't know. She screamed, her throat feeling ragged.

"There's a building in that cloud! I'm trying to get in!"

The mysterious mare opened her mouth to argue with Firefly, ready to give some response without thinking. But she didn't say it, staring off towards the building. "Oh."

She bobbed slowly up and down, taking in the building from different angles. "I didn't think that was possible! The lightning would make it hard to build anything, and harder to get in!"

After almost getting killed by a mine monster, Firefly wanted to ask Lilac to go to the Fetlock Fete with her. She hadn't been brave enough, but it wouldn't matter anyway. Her friend was sent away, and she was trapped in Willowbrook without her.

She was not going to keep making mistakes like that. It was time to start saying what she meant. "Do you think we could fly in together? I've, uh... practiced flights with a wingmate. Maybe two could make it through the wind!"

The pegasus looked her up and down, considering. "Twilight would call it irresponsible to let a pony as young as you do something so dangerous, even with my help."

Firefly maneuvered closer through the air. She tried to copy the way this pony had done it, with subtler adjustments to her feathers, letting the wind do most of the work. She got better at it the more she tried. Maybe she could learn it, with enough time.

"I work up here in the Cumulus Maze! My father has been taking me up here since I was a little filly!"

That wasn't quite as long as it sounded, but that didn't matter. The pony didn't want to go back down. Firefly could see the same longing behind those goggles as she felt. This mare had seen a challenge, and she needed to conquer it.

"If you get tired, we'll back off!" she called. "I have a friend down on the ground who can probably get in with a teleport. But that would be cheating." She angled her wings, and the updraft shot her vertically.

Firefly copied her with considerably less grace, but the technique still worked. It felt a little like sliding her skis onto a lift that only serviced expert terrain. Her body jerked upward, showing her a sky filled with the most dangerous flying of her life.

Thanks to all the moisture in the air, she could see the eddies and currents, the swirls and steep up and down sections. The air here was terrain unto itself. Pegasi lungs were well-adapted to the heights, but even she started to feel a little light-headed. She felt a fizzy sensation in her hooves.

I should turn around. Instead of that, she gritted her teeth, focusing on her flight. Energy crackled down her wings, and breathing came more easily to her. Could she force that power to manifest, just as unicorns could? It brought her clarity of thought, returned sensation to her wings. Her breathing slowed, and she replaced the goggles over her eyes. Fogged or not, they would be better than air-blindness.

"Stay on my right!" the mare called, finally leveling out again. Even the powerful updraft-force had its limit. They were up so high now that frost formed on Firefly's wings. Any water still clinging to her fur froze, then beaded away as little bits of ice. "It shouldn't be as hard to fly for you. Ride all the way in!" She stretched both wings, one after another.

"One other thing—once we dive, the only way out is all the way to the ground. We can't fly backwards, or we'll get battered to pieces in those crosswinds. Yell if it gets too hard, and we'll land together, alright?"

She grinned back, nodding eagerly. "I-I'm Firefly! What's your name?"

The mare posed for her in the air, turning slightly to face her. The wind and the cold didn't seem to touch her. This mare brought power Firefly had never even seen before. "They call me Rainbow Dash. Rescue flier, weather pony team captain, and Wonderbolt cadet." She tilted her head slightly to the side. "Do young pegasus ponies know about the Wonderbolts here?"

She shook her head once. "I know who you are, but... I've never seen you perform. Like the Blue—" Her head throbbed with a sudden burst of pain, making her sag in her flight.

How long had it been since the portal spell hurt her? But she was exploring new subjects, and that meant new threats.

Rainbow Dash didn't seem to notice. Her attention was all on the dark cloud ahead of them. "Never seen a show, huh? Let's fix that."

She tucked her wings in close, then dove. Firefly had only a split-second to react, having to flap desperately to keep up.

The mare seemed to be expecting her to have trouble, because she didn't really start accelerating until Firefly got close. Close enough to find the little slice Rainbow cut through the wind, and feel the roar of sound and speed coming off her.

The books were right, having a wingpony who knew what they were doing really did make it easier. The wind still battered her, but Rainbow's trail gave her an invisible track through the sky, one with far less resistance. So long as she stayed just behind her, she could ride in that wake without much effort.

The mare didn't make it easy, though. As soon as Firefly was in place, she tucked in her body, angling both wings sharply downward in something Firefly had only seen on warning posters for what not to do. This was a Rainboom Plummet, a maneuver so fast and difficult to control that she hadn’t ever imagined doing it herself.

Instead of stopping, Firefly copied. She pulled her legs in close, then angled her wings all the way back like an eagle coming down on a shallow-swimming fish.

A roar grew in the air around them, overpowering the occasional rumble of thunder and rush of wind. They weren't just traveling straight down either, but in an arc towards the cloud. Rainbow had apparently picked the perfect angle so they would reach it before running out of space.

The wind tried to fight them, no less intensely than what Firefly had faced during her first attempt. But this time she wasn't alone. Rainbow's wings started to glow, crackling with prismatic light that trailed out from behind her.

She's doing the same thing I did! Only this mare wasn't a little filly flopping clumsily around in a cave. Her body erupted with a magical heat so intense the rain boiled to steam before it could get close, adding a cloud-trail to the rainbow.

Firefly screamed, a mixture of terror and an intoxicating rush of adrenaline. Rainbow was doing most of the work here—the slice she made pulled on Firefly, keeping her moving despite her waning strength.

She was no equal to this mare, and maybe she never would be. But Firefly wasn't going to get left behind now, to be buffeted apart by the storm. She followed, adding her own sizzling orange lightning to the trail.

Light built up ahead of them, a physical barrier that stretched ahead of Rainbow like the film of a bubble. It stretched further and further, sliding along the vortex, clinging to Firefly's body.

The building came upon them in an eyeblink. They passed completely through one terrible wall of clouds, then Rainbow flared her wings upward, in another impossibly skilled maneuver.

Firefly tried to imitate, but this was too much. She didn't turn fast enough, and struck up against a wall of white clouds. White, not dark gray. Her body skipped along them like the surface of a wet pond, squelching under her weight before rebounding her upward in a deadly spiral.

She screamed, and managed to keep herself from tumbling wildly. Instead she spiraled upward, totally out of control. Her hooves came out, kicking and scrambling for purchase as though the air would do anything. But that only made her path more erratic.

She was in a narrow column between a bright surface and a dark gray one, with the wind instantly gone. But she was running out of room. There was a wispy roof overhead, getting closer with alarming speed.

Firefly whimpered, tears of terror pooling in her goggles. If she hit against that surface at this speed, head on, it would be like smashing into concrete. There was no way to stop in time.

Chapter 41: Pearlescent

Something caught her from behind, a pair of muscular legs that wrapped around her own forelegs. The weight brought them together in the air, then pressed Firefly's wings down. For a few seconds she continued in the same spiral, flying wider as their angular momentum more than doubled.

But Rainbow Dash knew what she was doing. Force pressed down on Firefly, as intense as any Earth rollercoaster.

She stopped screaming, before finally coming to a stop in the air.

"You good?" asked the mare. At her nod, Rainbow let her go, freeing her to hover under her own power. She could still manage that, though her body shook from the exhaustion of her whole ordeal.

Physically speaking, this flight was far more demanding than escaping the mine. But she could hover in place, facing the mare. "That was... the craziest thing I've ever done! I didn't know anything alive could move that fast!

The mare looked back, flipping the goggles out of her eyes. Even she was breathing heavily, though a sense of constant pride radiated from her like the heat from a flame. "Yeah, well. Fast is kinda my thing."

She patted Firefly on the shoulder with one hoof. "Keep practicing, filly. I don't know very many grown mares who could keep up with me during a flight like that. You've got talent."

It didn't matter that the exterior clouds were dark gray, consuming most of the light. From a pony like this, those words were like stepping into the sun. Firefly didn't understand magic, and she couldn't cast incredible spells. But she wasn't useless.

"What's in here, anyway?" The mare turned away from her, focusing on the strange structure they had entered. Firefly did too, though for very different reasons. She needed to find somewhere to land and catch her breath before she collapsed.

The structure was unlike anything she had ever seen in the Cumulus Maze before. Most cloud houses were just that—structures using clouds as a substrate, built on fluffy foundations. The design was not that different, just the materials.

This building was more like a two-layered shell, with the thick external thundercloud separated by a narrow "pipe" of still air from a rounded cloud building. What she thought to be a flat wall while she was flying for dear life was actually a subtle curve, matching the rounded shape of the thunderhead from outside.

Without a word exchanged between them, they flew around this structure, searching for a way in.

The design was leagues beyond any cloud building she'd ever seen. Instead of simple pillars, this one used an intricate lattice of ice, forming a delicate upward spiral of thin sheets.

Thin, but incredibly strong. Rainbow hammered one hoof on a clear section, then pulled back in pain. There wasn't even a crack.

"Twilight told me this town was gonna be weird," she said. "I didn't know how much. Have you seen places like this before? How do we get in?"

Firefly didn't want to answer, or else give the mare regrets about their trip. The last thing she needed right now was word of this particular adventure reaching Dusty. He was already nearly a nervous wreck after Firefly's adventure in the mines.

"I saw spirals like this before," she began. "Based on the way it curves, it should point outward near the top. Maybe there's an opening there?"

"Worth a short," the mare said. "One last flight up." She chuckled nervously. "Sure hope Twilight doesn't have anything crazy planned for tonight. Haven't worked this hard since academy training."

They flew upward, with Firefly occasionally resting her hooves against the building. Even a few seconds when she wasn't flapping helped. The effort was exhausting enough, but the altitude really made things difficult. They must be higher up than she'd ever been in her life.

Curious that the clouds weren't colder. The thunderhead blasted her with snow on her way in, but this little pocket of air was downright comfortable.

Eventually they made it to the top. Thousands of thin icy supports came together in an interlocking spiral like a basket, held together by a single ring of strange red metal. But there was an opening inside it, finally giving them a path to glide down.

It also glowed with incredible light and heat, enough that Firefly closed her eyes as she approached. She sped up, flying quickly so it wouldn't bake her alive. Hot air rose out of that opening, forcing her to tuck her wings in for another dive.

It looked like a city, or maybe a town. There were a dozen internal structures, each one as beautiful as the exterior. They were formed of ice like spun glass, with a faint metallic shimmer to them. They were skyscrapers, though their designs were unfamiliar. Maybe in the feverish imaginings of a futurist could structures be made so beautiful.

They had stained the ice in different ways, producing “windows” with an internal view, as well as opaque sections without. Murals were formed here, showing natural scenes. Mountains, fields of swaying wheat, crashing waves and tropical islands.

The ground was strangest of all. There were no roads or paths between buildings, but strangely blue-tinted plant life, swaying in a warm breeze. A few ponds were visible as well, with a thin algal film staining the water.

The city had no people, though. Firefly saw only the occasional bird here, mostly pigeons. They nested among the blockier buildings, or in places where the icy windows were shattered.

But that makes sense. In Equestria, all birds can walk on clouds. Rats could never infest the city, they would fall right through.

Rainbow Dash found a wide balcony, connected to the tallest structure in the dome. That also meant it was the shortest distance to fly before landing on something.

Firefly collapsed onto the solid cloud surface, spreading out her body and letting her wings hang limp. She felt utterly exhausted, drained more than any high school fitness test she could remember.

The mare was a little more dignified, settling onto her haunches. Her wings sagged though, and there was no more glow to the feathers. She'd been exhausted too. "Can't hear the storm from in here. I bet during the day the sun would shine in through that hole."

Firefly nodded. Something still heated the metal above them, producing a glow not unlike the orange of sunset. Without a storm, Willowbrook would be having exactly that. But how could it regulate the light inside the dome without any machinery?

It was hard to gauge the space—maybe a kilometer in radius? It was much smaller than the thundercloud from the outside. But that was plenty of space for buildings. Hundreds, maybe thousands of ponies could live in here.

"Well that was something... Firefly, you said?" The mare stood up, as though the tremendous energy of their flight was already coming back to her. Maybe it was, with the incredible strength she had. "Great job getting in here. Wish we had time to explore all this, but I really shouldn't. We're on an important mission from Princess Celestia, and it wasn't about inspecting cloud ruins."

You aren't the least bit curious about what could be inside?

Firefly stood too, though she wasn't recovering as fast. With other ruins she could always come back in a few hours—but she knew instantly that she would never stand a chance of getting into this place without the pegasus slicing through the wind ahead of her. Maybe with another decade of practice. At least she had something to aspire to.

"We should at least look inside one building!" She reached to the side, where she would usually keep her exploration satchel. A place to carry what she scavenged, the tools she used, maybe a flashlight. But she had nothing there, of course.

Even if she hadn't dropped her bag, it would just be boring notebooks and school supplies. "Can your mission for the princess wait a few minutes?" She took one step back along the balcony, which was open. In its own way, this building might be a palace. Princess Celestia can't have anything as nice as this living on the ground.

"Well... a quick look. Twilight would probably ask what I found. If I didn't give her an answer, we'd probably have to go chase this storm after we finished in the dumb mine."

They walked together through the open doorway. Firefly was equally stunned by her surroundings as she was the pony's words. Sent by the princess to investigate a “dumb mine.” That could only mean one place. It also meant that Equestria was onto them. They had managed to identify the location of Lilac's magic, and get a team out to investigate it in only a day.

The castle itself was appropriate to the glory of its city. The ones who lived here favored a silhouette style, with mosaics of colored ice-chips on the walls but plain cloud floors. Tattered banners hung from regular points, and the palace had some of its own light too.

The figures on the walls were clearly ponies, though not pegasi. They had horns as well as wings. This place had once had Alicorns who ruled inside it, then.

As incredibly skilled as her flight had been, her companion didn't show a lick of academic curiosity. She walked right past the art, stopping only when they reached a set of thrones.

There were six of them in a semicircle, at varying heights. Each one had a different gemstone set into the cloud material. They glowed faintly as Rainbow and Firefly approached.

Firefly hopped up onto the raised dais, reaching towards one of the glowing stones. Rainbow caught her by the hoof, holding her back. "Careful, filly. I've read enough Daring Do to know what happens when you mess with the ancient artifacts in the magical sky castle. How about we just look for now, let the archeology ponies poke at it."

She didn't fight, backing away from the seats again. Curious how the gemstones responded to their presence, though. "Do those Daring Do books talk about who could've built a place like this?"

The pegasus grunted with disinterest. "Eh. Nopony really knows, that's part of the mystery. Sometimes the old ponies set up magical guardians, and they all liked traps. But if we just visit, they won't go off." She spread her wings, stretching from one side to the other. "My friend's a real brainiac, she might be able to tell you. Just try to remember that shape right there. That looks important."

Firefly looked, and froze. She had seen a version of that exact logo thousands and thousands of times, every time she saw the Lightless Star members in person. It showed a tall, tapering tower, superimposed on a huge eye. Only the eye on the banners was open instead of closed.

By the time she realized what was happening, Rainbow was halfway to the exit. She scampered after her, leaving the dark space behind.

There's so much stuff in here. How can I get back without getting killed by a hurricane?

"So why'd you come looking for a mine, Miss Rainbow Dash?" she asked. "Don't you just hate being underground?"

The mare met her eyes, looking instantly sympathetic. "Guess you've been underground before. It's awful, but somepony had to come with her and Rarity." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm not supposed to tell any of the locals, but you can keep a secret, right?"

She didn't look at her eyes, but her wings. "Yeah, I thought so." She draped one over her shoulder, pulling her close for a second. "I can feel it about you—your loyalty. That's strong stuff. You'd do anything to stand by your friends."

She nodded, baffled. What did loyalty have to do with anything? "I'd go to the end of the world for my friends. I'd fight anything, and maybe even come back one day."

The mare gave her one last pat with her wing, then let go. "I told Twilight that Celestia was probably worried about nothing. She got all scared about the ponies of Willowbrook. Don’t tell her I said this either, but she thinks you're all creepy weirdos." She lifted both wings as she said it, in a gesture Firefly instantly understood. "But you find harmony no matter where you look.

"In faaact...." She grinned sideways at her. "We're on an important mission for Princess Celestia. I know the first thing Twilight would want to do is find somepony from around here we can trust to show us around. You ever heard of the... Cyan Mines?"

Firefly nodded without thinking. "I've heard of 'em. They've been closed since before I was born."

"Oh, yeah. Perfect place for nefarious evildoers to set up their secret base. I just know Rarity’s gonna love it.”

Chapter 43: Royal Investigator

Firefly should be heading home. It wasn't just the insanity of her mission through the clouds, soaring into an impregnable fortress that few flying ponies could ever hope to see—it was getting dark, and her dad would start to worry.

Assuming he wasn't already beside himself by now.

But just knowing she should be flying back and actually getting herself to do it were two very different things. How could she go home when she had the company of such an interesting pony?

Rainbow Dash led her down to the ground. But even a simple descent was something cool for her, a chance to perform and race. She flew in great loops as she went down, urging Firefly to imitate her.

She couldn't, but she could try, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, the path they chose wasn't about simple performance, either. Rainbow had a specific route in mind, one that avoided the densest wind and rain. By the time they landed on one of Willowbrook's main roads, she was barely even damp.

Not even that for long—such energetic flying made her wings buzz with magical energy, which rose from her coat like steam. For the first time, she wasn't even the only pony doing it. Rainbow Dash had made a trail all the way to the ground.

"Nice!” she exclaimed, as they finally touched down. "Seriously, Firefly, that was great for a pony your age. I bet you'll be a killer when you're a few years older."

She blushed, looking away at the compliment. "Thanks. I was flying my best! But I felt like there were weights around my wings compared to you."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty awesome. Don't hold it against yourself, filly. Just keep at it."

They hadn't picked an empty patch of road for their landing. An oversized cart came to rest after a short few meters. Firefly wouldn't have given it a second glance, except that it was pulled by guards. Royal-looking ponies in gold armor, with actual weapons strapped to them.

They might be doing the job of propulsion right now, but their attendance served an obvious dual purpose. This was a royal escort. Buck, who could be that important?

The doors opened, and a purple unicorn emerged from within. She looked towards Rainbow, before gesturing with one hoof. "You've been gone for hours, Rainbow. Is everything okay?"

"Better than okay!" She didn't walk, even the short distance to the open door. Instead she blurred through the air, landing in the gravel and scattering it to all directions. "You won't believe what I just found up there!"

Firefly followed, or got a few steps closer. These were strangers, aside from the pegasus she had just befriended. Equestria was generally quite a safe place to spend time with strangers, but that didn't mean she would be reckless about it.

"I can take a guess," the unicorn said. In seconds, her words transformed to something sounding like an older, female version of Risk, plodding and methodical. The same way he always sounded when she asked him anything. "We're in the Equestrian Central Gyre, which creates a large zone of out-of-control weather patterns and attracts abandoned cloud structures from all over the world. I believe the locals call it the... Cumulus Maze."

Rainbow Dash shrugged her wings. "Yeah, whatever. Lots of old cloud buildings, they were up there. But that's not what I’m talking about. There was a whole bucking castle! Intact magic, all wrapped up in a dome of unmelting glass. I've never seen anything like it, Twilight!"

The unicorn, apparently Twilight, stepped back into the carriage. "Well, get in. You can explain on our way into town. I don't believe it's connected with the reason Celestia called us here."

"Yes please!" called another voice, from inside. It was deep and feminine, a parody of fine Canterlot unicorns. "Darling, you simply must get in. You're letting in the most abominable draft. You know this isn't good for my complexion."

Firefly opened her wings, preparing to take off. This was what she expected—Rainbow would rejoin her friends, then continue with their strange investigation across the city. They would search for... whatever they were searching for... and this awesome pegasus would never look at her again.

Only that wasn't what happened. Rainbow zipped over to her in another blow, taking her by the hoof. "There's something else! Twilight, I met a local filly. She's the fastest little pony I've seen in the air since... a mirror! And she knows things! You know, like—"

Twilight gestured urgently for the carriage. "Get in, then! You don't know who might be listening!"

Should I be doing this? Firefly considered for a few seconds just how dangerous it would be to be close to royal ponies. Lilac always said that the princess wanted them dead, if she could. Nevermind that she'd seen no sign of violence from her actual government in her entire life.

She probably would've flown away, if it wasn't for Rainbow tugging on her hoof. Maybe if she stayed, the mare would give her more flying advice? An hour in the air with her was like weeks of classes!

She hurried up the steps and into the fancy carriage.

It was even finer on the inside. Old polished wood, with little sun markings on everything. It seemed bigger than she expected, with plenty of room on wide benches for them all to have their own, not to mention the several suitcases.

"You're soaking wet!" called a pale unicorn, lounging on one of the upper benches. She was wrapped almost completely in an oversized fluffy robe. She took one look at Rainbow Dash, then pulled it tighter around herself. "Have you no decorum? Bringing a guest while we're sore from traveling all day."

"I'm Twilight Sparkle," the purple one said, taking her seat. "That one up there is Rarity. I'm sure she'll come down if you have anything interesting to say. What's your name?"

"Firefly," she answered, suddenly avoiding her eyes. She took one step towards Rainbow, and the open carriage door. "Nice to meet you. Miss Dash said something about... are you looking for the mine?"

The mare took that opportunity to flick the door closed. Without a word, the guards started pulling them, and soon they were trundling down the road towards Willowbrook.

See, it's fine! I'm just riding home. Dad will understand.

"Miss Dash," Rarity repeated. "You don't hear that one every day."

Rainbow Dash made a face in the unicorn's direction, but only when she wasn't looking. "I didn't tell her to call me that, either. Just Rainbow, remember? I'm no pony’s boss. Maybe one day if you end up in the Wonderbolts, I might be your wing-commander. But this is much less serious."

"It's more serious," Twilight said. She raised one hoof, silencing them all. "Why did you bring in this local, Rainbow? She looks terrified."

"Well, we can't have that." Rarity emerged from her robes a moment later, with a flash of perfect white coat and purple mane. She produced a deep purple towel from nowhere in particular, then levitated it across the room towards her. Before Firefly could protest, she was entirely enveloped, then lifted bodily up onto the bench.

Rarity dropped her there with a thump. "There, sweetheart. Is that better?"

"I'm not five," she finally said. "But thanks. I was... pretty cold."

She let the soft fabric just soak into her coat for a time. Between that and the passive magic, she was soon feeling much warmer.

"She knows about everything," Rainbow said. "The mine, the shady magic, everything. Why wander around poking into dingy old libraries when we can just find somepony to tell us everything we want to know?"

Twilight pawed at the ground between them, looking thoughtful. "What did Rainbow Dash tell you about our reason for being here?"

Firefly hesitated. She could already tell exactly what they were doing here, based on Rainbow asking about the mines. But that wasn't the right thing to say. "That the princess was worried for us? Also that everypony in town are... creepy weirdoes? She's not wrong about that last part. There's a lot of creepy ponies in Willowbrook."

Twilight Sparkle's head snapped to the side, and she glowered at Rainbow. But only for a second—as soon as she noticed Firefly's attention, she forced another smile.

"And you think we can trust her?" she asked. Not to Firefly this time.

Rainbow hopped up into the seat beside her. She leaned against the window, then pulled the shutters down over the opening. "Duh. The flying we did up there... you can learn a lot about a pony from their magic, Twi. You're always saying that Friendship is Magic, aren't you? She must have friendships for days if she flies like that."

The compliments made her blush all over again. It didn't matter if she knew that Rainbow was exaggerating. Some of this conversation was about completing an investigation into the strange ponies of Willowbrook, but that wasn't the whole thing. Part of this was a contest with her friends, with stakes Firefly couldn't properly understand.

Twilight's horn glowed faintly for a moment, then she nodded. "You're right about that. You... did find quite a talent up there." Her smile returned. "I'm sorry, Firefly. I don't mean to sound rude or mistrusting. But there's... dark magic, here in Willowbrook. Do you know what that is?"

Lying was probably the smartest choice. But keeping track of too many of those would quickly get out of control. She nodded instead. "That's the... opposite of normal pony magic? It's a reflection of what unicorns have."

"Not... exactly." The unicorn slid a little closer to her along the bench. "But close enough. But before we can ask you anything else, we need to have your word. Promise to Rainbow Dash that you won't share what we say with anypony."

She squirmed in the wooden bench. Could she promise that? With her best friend out of town for an unknown length of time, it had suddenly gotten much easier. "I won't tell your secrets. Are you looking for the old mine?"

"Not exactly," Rarity said. "We brought the old maps from Canterlot. Cyan Mines are there, along with all the other landmarks. This is more about what happened there, and why. Anything you may've heard, no matter how insignificant, might be useful for tracking it down."

So maybe the one called Rarity was more than just a ball of fluff. Her eyes were intense, flicking from Firefly's face to her ears and tail. She would probably sense the subtle signs if she tried to lie.

"There was an earthquake," she said. "Last night. I dunno what time, exactly. It was still light outside. I heard an explosion too—I think maybe there was some gunpowder involved. You know that... awful, sulfur smelling stuff in big barrels? Boom!"

They shared a look, one Firefly couldn't read. Rarity produced a little notebook and a pencil from somewhere. Had she always been wearing that hat? "That is interesting. Royal records suggest there hasn't been any prospecting activity in Cyan Mines for two generations. The silver is dry, and there are no gemstones to speak of. Why would somepony be blasting?"

"Have you heard of anypony wanting to go down there?" Twilight asked. "Somepony must've been. Somepony... creepy."

My best friend. We summoned a demon and it almost ate us. The earthquake was my fault too. They were all watching her now, pressure building. What could she say? "Promise you didn't hear this from me?"

At their nods, she continued. "I... there's a weird religion here. There's no way to know what ponies are part of it, and what aren't. But the ones who are sometimes put on weird clothes and go out in the middle of the night. They... sing, and pray, and other stuff. Everypony knows you stay out of their way no matter what."

"Well that sounds dreadful," Rarity said, scribbling all that. "And rather consistent with royal intelligence on the matter, if I recall."

"Yeah," Twilight said. "Doesn't sound like a great place to live”.

Chapter 44: Sailing Inward

Life aboard the Magna Vale was as far from perfect as Lilac could imagine.

She woke every day the same way, to an early morning bell from Keen Focus. Before she could even get out of her room, they spent over an hour staring at a stupid mirror, giving her all kinds of instructions for cosmetics she would never wear. Lilac learned the difference between foundation and blush and eyeliner and a dozen other things she hadn't even suspected in her real world, let alone this strange realm of magic and horses.

Keen Focus would not let her eat until she was dressed and prepared, right down to the corset under one of the stupid dresses. And if she stumbled or did anything with less than perfect grace, it was back to the beginning of the entire stupid routine.

After a week the tutor finally let her out into the normal decks of the Magna Vale, if only under heavy supervision. She sat in polite parties with the command staff, chatting about shipboard affairs and the dangers waiting for them in the skies ahead. Occasionally bits of gossip reached them, like the expedition team that had arrived in Willowbrook and was doing some strange investigation there.

Of course Lilac could offer no support to those trapped back there. The longer she remained in Keen Focus's grasp, the more she wished to be back home. Celestia's apprentice might murder her as a danger to all Equestria, but at least she wouldn't make her put on a dress first.

She tried to write again—but no sooner had she sat down than Keen Focus appeared from nowhere, with another lesson on penmanship and proper decorum in written communication. Any attempt to write in English only ended with a lecture on "degenerate tongues" and how she should not be inspired by what "lesser creatures" used to communicate.

There was no sense arguing with Keen Focus no matter how insane her statements were. Arguing was unladylike, and would only earn her another few hours prancing around, or styling hair, or singing.Equestria had no end of proper ladylike professions that could be wielded against her like a bludgeon, and her tutor seemed to take special pleasure in inflicting them.

"I don't want to be this way!" she screamed, after her second week. "I'm sure there are perfect ladies who dress in all the right outfits and laugh in the right way and get stallions swooning after them. But I don't care! I just want to study magic in peace!"

She would only dare such an outburst in her own quarters, where there were no others around to see. Her tutor was much stricter when other ponies saw her misbehave.

Keen Focus looked like she'd been waiting for just such an occasion. She puffed herself up, making her delicate way over to Lilac. "If you wanted that, you should've been born a unicorn. Magic is forever beyond you, earth pony. In my day, being a proper lady would be too, and you would be hauling a tractor out in the field somewhere. Thanks to our enlightened princess, we no longer rule that way. So you can be a proper wife to a unicorn stallion. With a few steps to ensure your only children are unicorns as well, we can... resolve this unfortunate bump in the Vale family road. That is your purpose, nothing more."

"I don't care." She wasn't yelling anymore. Simple volume would do nothing to convince Keen Focus, anyway. But she was running out of patience putting up with her commands. If anything, that was more dangerous. "You can't keep forcing me to act this way. I won't do it."

She leered down at Lilac. "Then you will not leave. You could use a few moments—perhaps two days, or three. I will return with food, then. We will see if you're in the mood for an apology."

She spun on her heels, marching primly out the way she'd come. She didn't even slam the door, just shut it gracefully, then sealed it with a click. Locked.

Lilac retreated from the door, preparing to charge. She had powerful earth pony magic flowing through her, enough that she had nothing to fear from such an insignificant barrier. She could crush that to kindling! Maybe if she smacked that unicorn once or twice, she would understand why it was so unwise to torment her.

"Child of Desolation," whispered a tiny voice, barely audible to her. "You've already found yourself in an unenviable position of torment. Perhaps you should reflect before you fight your way out? Unless you intend to make war on all Equestria, that is."

She blinked, momentarily stunned. She spun wildly, before her eyes settled on a single point. It was the little clay pot, which she had growing near the window. One of the few “luxuries” her tutor had permitted her. Gardening could be a proper habit for someone of her station, after all.

The acorn had grown with incredible rapidity since she planted it, and now stood as a strong seedling of a foot tall, with several wide leaves turned towards the window, and the sunlight beyond.

But what she hadn't noticed was the little creature floating there, with a silvery coat and white mane. It hovered on four transparent wings, with a thin body and oversized antenna.

Many ponies mistakenly thought these creatures immensely vulnerable and delicate—it was an illusion they continued to cultivate, preying on the natural nurturing feelings of Equestrians towards small, cute things. She made no such mistake. Lilac relaxed, taking several deep breaths as she crossed the room. Then she dropped to one knee. Not a curtsey, despite the stupid floral dress she was wearing.

"Saffron, honored for you to meet me. I need you... perhaps now more than ever."

"I felt that," he said, his voice boiling with frustration. He buzzed past her, without regard for her respect. "Where were you weeks ago when something snatched your name away, child? Don't you know you've only got one of those left? Barterin' with outsiders, I tell you. Madness."

Once she'd been bowed for long enough, she finally rose. She shook out her mane, violently enough to dislodge the delicate bands, and spread a little cloud of powder around her.

She coughed and spluttered, then just lifted a towel, wiping the slime from her face. "I felt... I knew it was bad," she said. "But it wasn't supposed to happen. It was a scry. I didn't make deals with Outsiders."

He was suddenly directly in front of her, looking furious. "Don’t think I came all the way here, crossin' through that miserable little forest you grew from ancient oak, to hear you say such things. Lilac Empathy, that ain't a statement of pride in my student. At least if you told me you'd gained some terrible power over life and death, I might've thought it was worth it. But here you are, saying you got tricked, got nothin' for your trouble. Is that why you're dressing up like a clown? You certainly look the part."

She squirmed under his gaze. Then she twitched, freeing her shoulder from the dress. She yanked the whole thing off with her mouth, tossing it angrily aside. "I hate it, Saffron. I'm a prisoner here. They torture me with it every day. What do I do?"

"What did you do?" he asked. "First thing about a prison is knowing the sentence, young filly. Was it the reason I'd punish you, thinking you were apt for traffic with the Outer Gates?"

She nodded glumly. "More or less."

Something whipped against her face, a faint smack from a tiny hoof. It still hurt, far more than little hooves should be able. "You've been training with me for how many years, and you speak like that? Try again."

"My mother sent me away so the Equestrians wouldn't find me. They sensed my magic, somehow, and... sent a team into Willowbrook to look for evil. Then my adopted father got wind, and sent a tutor along to make me a useful tool while I'm out here, out of Iris's protection."

"Better," he said, approving. He landed on the dresser, beside several discarded pieces of jewelry. "Seems to me you're where you belong then. Equestria's eyes are open wide, and their axes cut sharper than they look. Whole kingdom feels like a party of love and friendship, but look around you, apprentice. World is full of dangers, and here Equestria is, surviving them all. They're meaner than they look. Iris Vale is a wise mare, for a unicorn."

Great, even my magical teacher thinks I deserve it.

She slumped to the floor, groaning. "I didn't try to summon anything, Saffron. I was just trying to scry, and somehow it got through. I asked Iris how I screwed it up so badly, and she wouldn't tell me! I checked the scry—it's exactly like the ones ponies would use for searching the safe realms. There's no reason it shouldn't have worked."

When he spoke again, it was from far closer. "There's a reason they call the Gates forbidden, Lilac. Got a sorry story to tell—there's no way to stop bits and pieces from the void crossing over when you leave the way. A little magic fades into that opening, lost forever. It bridges the gap, then across you go. Inevitable."

She made another unhappy sound. Yet every pony she had ever spoken to repeated more or less the same story—she should never cast spells beyond the Outer Gates, no matter how perfect they seemed. There were no exceptions, no advanced lessons, and no valid excuses. "You mean I didn't do anything wrong?"

"Your life is full of wrong moves, little Lilac. That's the beauty of a life. No perfect flowers grow in all the forest, yet each one smells as sweet. There's no way to stop the void from finding your magic. There are techniques, ways to decide what comes through. That's what your mother did, calling you."

"I'm nothing like... that thing," she whispered. Her stomach twisted, and she could've sworn her quarters grew darker, though the candles still burned, and the sun still shone from outside. "I know you said we come from the same place, Saffron. But we're nothing alike. That thing was... horrible. It corrupted the ground just by walking on it. It made me sick to look at. It completely scrambled my friends' memories! Only Charlie remembered anything at all..."

"The little firefly's name is Charlie, then?" Saffron floated past her. "Would be if you'd let us make it so. Leave her in the forest a time, and she'll never fly too far for you again. If it's her you wish to keep close."

She hissed under her breath. "No, Saffron. That's not what this is about. Charlie is—Firefly is fine, I hope. She doesn't have the same magic I do, and by now she got my letter. I'm sure she's keeping herself out of the Equestrian eye."

"Yet she does teach you a valuable lesson. You remembered, and she remembered—yet the ponies who were with you did not. Do you wonder why?" This time, he didn't wait for her response. "You traveled from the same forbidden shore as that abomination. Its numberless conclaves are not mapped, so it could be that your fraction has some semblance of order. It does not matter. You've seen the consequences. Now you feel them, with manacles of silk."

She grunted once, kicking the dress away from her. "What am I supposed to do not to go crazy here, Saffron? That unicorn teacher... I'm going to push her off the ship. Why don't you turn her into a bug, then maybe she won't torment me."

"Quality material is required. We cannot spin dross into daisies. Perhaps if you wish to be doing something else, you should?"

He nodded towards the wall, and a heavy metal grate set into the wood. She'd barely looked at it before, except to feel the occasional current make its way out when the ship got too cold. They were simple climate control. "Practice concealing yourself. Make yourself so valuable to the other members of this ship that your tutor's commands are ignored. Either that, or flee with me to the forest, and risk your mother's wrath. Your choice."

Lilac considered. A smile slowly formed on her lips—there was a plan here. She would not have been bold enough to dare it, a few weeks before.

"I'm not going to put on those dresses again. But... maybe I could dress up like someone else."

Chapter 45: Lux

Lilac knew of incredible, terrifying creatures, beings of ancient Equestrian myths. They'd come from a distant, terrifying place, where all was endless pain and all they did was consume. Beings of magic, that could take the shape of other creatures, to impersonate them to their loved-ones, and ultimately feast upon their magic.

She was no changeling, and could not perfectly copy the shape of other creatures with such ease. Yet she didn't need their magic to stop Keen Focus from recognizing her. She had plenty of costumes to choose from, and plenty of makeup.

And when that wasn't quite enough, she had the magic of the breezies to fill in the gaps. Nothing quite so powerful as the changelings could manage—but light and glamour, that was easy. With the right nudge, she could make her coat look brighter, inverting her hues until her coat was soft yellow instead of her namesake.

Pair that with a raincoat and a few rubber bands to keep her mane swept back, and she could pass for one of the numberless cabin-boys she'd seen skulking around the ship. It would be strange to see one of them as an earth pony and not a unicorn, and her scent would give her away if she got too close—but she could overcome all that!

"There are greater magics of transformation given to us," Saffron whispered, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Finally, something that didn't fill her with disgust. Appropriately confident, daring even. Herself. "Bending light is such a simple illusion, one unfit for your apprenticeship. Yet you will need another subject if you wish to experiment."

She looked to the side, where Saffron lounged under the fresh leaves of the little oak tree. "Why?" she asked. "Wouldn't changing yourself be easiest?"

The bug laughed. The sound of it was as strange as she remembered, distorted and stretched. An insect noise, her own large ears were ill-suited to hear. "Perhaps if you were a lesser creature. The witnesses around you may fill your head with lies, but on one matter they are right: you are far greater than a mere pony. You cannot be transfigured through simple charm. Your true self would reassert itself in time, overpowering any spell you were wrapped in."

"But..." She reached up, adjusting a few loose strands of mane. She needed to look just the right amount of disheveled, so she could pass for a member of the crew. But not so lazy that she got reprimanded, and they had to answer the awkward question of who she was. "You said something about changing Firefly. Isn't she the same thing as me?"

Saffron nodded once. "It appears your ears aren’t stuffed with cotton after all, apprentice. It is true, that process would not be permanent. But it could appear that way, if regularly renewed. For now, direct your attention to more significant matters. Put your talents to the test."

"Thanks. I've needed someone to talk to these last few weeks. Somepony who actually listened."

"Don't think the tutor was not listening," Saffron cautioned. He followed behind her as she approached the metal grate, then started working it with a screwdriver. She'd found it right where the bug said she would, tucked away in a bathroom drawer. But if the ship's staff assumed she would not use it, they were mistaken. "Her loyalty is to your father, and ultimately to the Crown. Anything you say, she will remember and use against you. You are not safe here."

Soon she had the grate off, settled onto the floor. The tunnel beyond might comfortably fit little Firefly, but for her it would be a tight squeeze. "You sure I can make it through this?" she asked, pawing awkwardly at the edge. "I'm not... however old I was when I got here... anymore."

Saffron actually laughed,his voice high and energetic. "All a matter of perspective, Lilac. What feels smaller, this bedroom, or that tunnel?"

She groaned at the suggestion. But there was no arguing with him--she might be a little cramped navigating the vents, but at least when she finished she would have the whole ship to explore.

If her gratitude reached him, he made no sign of it. He only nodded sharply, flicking his tail away from him. Dismissive.

She vanished through the vent. She didn't run—despite the temptation to finally be free, she knew how short-lived this little escape might be, if she made too much noise. Not to mention the advantage she would lose if Keen Focus caught wind of her powers. So long as she thought Lilac was nothing more than a helpless earth pony, she would keep treating her like one.

So she kept her head down, sneaking through tight corridors and listening at every bend. She passed each of the cabins in a line, starting with Keen Focus in the one just beside hers. The unicorn wasn't there, curiously enough. She resisted the urge to investigate, for fear that the mare might be able to sense her magic if she got too close.

She was no changeling, and could make no perfect imitation. She needed caution.

Eventually she found what she was looking for—a shaft leading down to the next deck. There amid the engines and foul-smelling mechanical apparatus, she could be certain Keen Focus would not find her. Such a place was beyond the dignity of a pony of her station, after all. She would leave that work for her "lessers".

Climbing down without making noise was its own challenge, with heated air blasting around her every second. She could bump around a little, so long as she didn't do anything too obvious. No adult pony would fit in here, they don't have to watch too closely.

She landed on the floor below, and was soon moving down another hall. Here the vents were far larger, positioned beside sprawling industrial-style mechanisms. Fascinating machines hummed in each one, serving to maintain this strange vessel. Now where could she get out?

She found her golden opportunity another short way down the passage, where she could see the metal grate hanging loose from its mounting. All she had to do was wedge a hoof up under the edge, and she could probably get that off.

As she got close, she heard a voice, lowered in frustrated muttering. "Still jammed. Why isn't the transition matrix engaging?"

A surprisingly young voice, considering the sophistication of his words. She lowered her head, pressing it to the metal to listen.

She saw a pony's back, facing a heavy machine. Only this one had its metal casing off, revealing several complex spinning disks within. Crystals were set into the metal at regular points, like some strange hybrid of a mechanical engine and a magical apparatus. She could sense the misalignment from across the room, even without the uneven glow coming from beside it.

The pony working on it was taller than she was, though not by much. He wore a simple ship vest, along with a toolbelt full of magical devices. His coat was gray, or probably supposed to be. There were so many different layers of grease stuck inside that he'd turned brown. "No, that's not right. Something's missing here. Why aren't you... hmm."

She couldn't help herself. Lilac emerged from the vent. She marched right past him, over to a single disk among many. “The resonance of this entire section is mismatched from the others," she said. Before he could stop her, she caught his thaumic-mechanical wrench out of the air. She had to use her mouth, lowering it to the disk, and rotating it in place.

"Wait, you can't! You don't know—"

Unhappy clunking noises stopped, and the disks started spinning together, settling back into a gentle hum. She tossed him back the wrench, grinning. "There. Not sure what got it out of phase like that. A large enough vibration might be able... but our flight has been smooth for the last few weeks."

His mouth fell open. From the front, she could get a better look at him. Not bad looking for a colt—the grease in his mane gave him a practical appearance at odds with his unicorn horn and uniform vest. He fumbled with the wrench, sliding it back into his belt. At least he could manage levitation well enough.

He was older than she'd first guessed, too. Not just old enough for his wrench-shaped cutie mark. Old enough to be graduated from the simple school most ponies attended, and into his craft. A year older than she was, and a little taller to match.

"You fixed it," he finally said. "How?" He looked her up and down, frowning. "I've never seen anypony like you aboard. You must work in engineering to know how... how haven't I seen you?"

Right, the easiest question in the world. What the hell was she going to say as soon as literally anyone found her down here? "I've been... serving with passengers," she said lamely. "My parents think I'm too good to be down here. But I want to be in the engines. Officers are boring."

He laughed. "Yet they make twenty bits a day, and I make three. Might be you're in the right place, uh..."

"Der—Lux. I'm Lux." She extended a hoof towards him, uncaring of the grease and slime. But he was a unicorn, and there wasn’t actually anything on his hooves. The one place he'd kept clean, despite his labor. "Don't ask my rank. I don't belong here."

The colt nodded, glancing to the doorway, then back again. "Engine Mate Copper," he said. "Shouldn't I report you?"

She shook her head vigorously, circling around the huge machine. It wasn't an engine, not really—she could see the pipes connected to it from either side. This strange device somehow converted the motion of the engine into hot water for the passengers.

"Maybe." She stopped in front of him, lowering her hood. Did she look enough like a colt? At least he wouldn't be able to smell her through all the grease. "But I'm guessing you have other problems, Copper. I can sense it—you're in trouble. You need some help. They gave you too much work, and not enough time to get it all done."

He groaned. "You have no idea! Officers up there having fancy lunch with all the unicorns riding along, while we're down here sweating our flanks off! Bloody unfair it is!"

She closed the distance between them. "Find me an extra vest like yours, and I'll help. I don’t care about bits either. But it would be nice if you could find me some dinner when we're done."

"Really?" His face lit up, beaming at her. "Crazy little colt you are—leavin' the top deck, workin' for free. Sure you aren't trying to trick me?"

"Positive," she said. "I just want to do something else for the day, Copper. If you knew what they made me do up there... you don't want to know. I'd rather swab the decks, or bilge the... pumps, or whatever it is you do down here."

"Bilge the pumps?" he repeated, giggling. "Alright, Lux. I know where they keep the spare uniforms. But I'm gonna hold you to it—a solid shift's work before last bell, we have. Make it that long, and I'll cover for you at mess. Deal?"

She would've done it for nothing. But how could she say no to a thrill like this? Let Keen Focus pace back and forth outside her room, thinking she was a helpless prisoner. She'd be down here, actually having fun. "Deal!"

Author's Note

So I know it's a little tangential to the story--there aren't any humans here, for example. But Bitera who commissioned this story also got these great character study pieces of Lilac on the ship, showing bits of her life over the journey. I just had to share it here. This great art was done by Schpog, the same artist who did the great magical girls for me for another project.

Chapter 46: Bad Act

The next few days were a blur for Lilac.

Compared to her time dressing up and pretending to be something she wasn't, working in the engines was a much-needed relief. It wasn't that she had any particular training in the world—but this was Equestria, a land where everything was magical in nature. The same basic principles that applied to ordinary spellcraft would serve her just as well maintaining thaumaturgical devices.

Besides, it wasn't like Copper asked her to do any of it alone. He was far from Risk's brilliance, but he did have at least some level of education, enough to quote back to her whatever reference material there was on the task at hand.

Not enough to put that material into practice. He saw it all as far too abstract, rather than viewing each machine as part of a connected whole. It was exactly the kind of thing Saffron would have crushed out of her in their first few weeks of training.

It took her a little longer than that—she was ostensibly the one learning from Copper rather than teaching him. Even if she was the one who solved all the practical problems.

Not everything she did was some revolutionary innovation, or exploring some new aspect of the ship. There was plenty of grunt-work to do. There was lubricant to apply, tanks to refill. Copper wasn't on the bottom of the ship's command structure, so they never went as far as scrubbing toilets and washing windows.

Lilac wouldn't have minded if they were. She had spent years living with House Vale now, surrounded by ponies treating her like she was better than they were. There was something inherently relaxing about hard work. Even better when she didn't have to dress like a clown while doing it.

She still snuck away after supper each night, returning to her locked bedroom to sleep. Not so much because the thought of a crew hammock frightened her—she needed to be back in her bedroom in the morning when Keen Focus arrived.

"I'm standing just outside," she said, after two days. "You've been throwing quite the tantrum, Lilac Empathy. Have you had the time to reflect? Are you ready to apologize?"

She still had a mane full of grease, and a blank uniform-vest tucked under her bed. But even if she'd been sitting primly in makeup and a dress, Keen Focus would have a hard time selling her with a proposal like that. "I don't agree with you," she said flatly. "I don't think a pony's worth is measured in the utility she brings to her family. I'm not going to give up on my ambition because somepony else expects it."

"Then you need a few more days," Keen Focus said. "I will return tomorrow to consider this matter again. But you must realize, Lilac Empathy. I will not permit you to leave your quarters until you have come to accept your position. Your father will not allow you to continue living a lie. He has remained permissive with your presence in the household, but no longer."

She walked away. Lilac could practically see her smug expression, drowning in the self-satisfaction of her punishment. Let her imagine Lilac rolling on the floor, breaking slowly as she went without food.

As soon as she was sure the mare wouldn't be coming back, she propped her chair up against the door to keep it from opening, and clambered back out the vent. She knew where she was going this time, and didn't mind a little grease and dust. Where she'd be working all day, it would make no difference.

She couldn't sneak all the way to the barracks—there were too many eyes watching there anyway. But thanks to her time working with Copper the day before, she'd discovered several maintenance grates were loose all along the lower deck. All she had to do was find one with nopony around, then slip out.

Copper wasn't quite as eager to wake up at the crack of dawn as Keen Focus seemed to be. That meant it was easy to find him, and follow along for another day of anything but what Keen Focus wanted.

So things went for the next week. She argued stubbornly with Keen Focus in the morning, before joining Copper on the lower decks. It meant she got to poke her way around the Magna Vale from below, learning all kinds of interesting things about Equestrian airships, and not so much about how to perform.

After the first week, she started receiving meager rations through her door—barely edible crackers, and nowhere close to enough to be comfortable.

She didn't relent, insisting that she wouldn't play along no matter what Keen Focus wanted from her.

"You must realize this performance of yours will have consequences when we return to Willowbrook!" Keen said, after another few days. "You defy your father's will. You will find him a far less agreeable negotiator than I."

Let him. They think I'm a goddess, what can he do to me? But Keen Focus was clearly no member of the cult.

There was better news below decks. "Review just came in!" Copper exclaimed, when they were sitting together in a dingy corner of the mess hall that night. "My first set of gold marks!"

He turned over a half-slip of paper, showing a row of simple horseshoe prints. Two of them were in the "gold" column, with the rest in silver. "They might consider me for promotion at year's end if I can keep this up!"

The bowl of simple oatmeal porridge between them was hardly luxurious or filling, but it still felt like a feast. Now that she had a friend to share it with...

"That's all you," she lied. "You have the magical power, it's just your focus you need to work on. Keep practicing those exercises I taught you."

He nodded, though there was something strange about his expression. She caught him looking at her like that more and more. Sometimes the locals just didn't make sense. "Yeah, Lux. That's... I'll keep working on it. Celestia only knows how an earth pony colt learned so much magic. There's a few who understand machines that well, like Engineer Fixed Pulley. You're past all that."

He looked like he might say more, but someone stalked past them at that moment, and they fell silent.

This was one of the ship's officers, a mare named Horizon Line. As far as Lilac understood things, she was second in command. One of the few mares who ever came down to the lower deck. "You two! Copper, Lux—you look like you just crawled out of a grease trap."

Lilac did what she always did when ship's crew were around, and kept her head down, never making eye contact. The illusion was too simple to require concentration, but it also only went skin deep.

She'd met most of the officers before. If they looked too closely at her face, they might make a connection.

"Aye, ma'am. We were down in the drive-canal all day, resurfacing thaumic studs. We'll not report to duty with such dirty uniform—"

She clicked her tongue, stopping just beside them. "I'm sure you're attentive to your duties. The captain is making an inspection tonight, in preparation for our arrival at port tomorrow afternoon. You two had better be sparkling before that happens, or you'll have cause to regret. Understood?"

"Aye, ma'am!" they said, almost in unison. Lilac was a bit quicker about it than Copper.

"Go on then. Eat like you've got a purpose, then do what you have to." She turned, continuing down the mess hall. She gave similar reprimands to several other members of the lower crew.

Very little of it had anything to do with their actual work performance. It was all about appearance—she wanted them looking presentable for the captain.

"Looks like half the deck is already off to the showers," Copper muttered, as soon as their bowls were empty. "Guess we should too, before it gets any worse in there than it already is."

She rose to follow him. By now, just about everyone had seen her. But somepony so far down the ship's totem of authority attracted little attention. "Lux" kept his head down and never caused trouble for anypony. How else could he be aboard, if he wasn't part of the crew?

"It's that bad?"

He didn't answer until they were out into the corridor. He wasn't wrong—several ponies were already on their way, in various stages of undress. She wouldn't have a second thought about it all if it wasn't for the profoundly male smell.

There were several mares among the officers and crew of the upper levels, but almost none down here. Whatever that meant about other ships like this, it made her feel increasingly uncomfortable the closer they got to the showers.

"Yeah," he answered glumly. "We basically go in last. Water gets reused all day, and by then..." He sighed. "Sometimes it's better not to bother, unless we're in port. It's nice there."

"This is dumb." She yanked on his hoof, pulling him out of the corridor and into a little storage room. The shelves in here held crates and other things she couldn't identify, but none of that mattered. Behind some in the last row was a loose metal grate. "Come with me. We don't have to use the nasty group shower. The thought of... no thanks."

She found the grate, then held it open with one hoof. She gestured at the darkness beyond, expectant.

Copper's eyes shifted nervously to either side. He stared at the door, as though expecting Horizon to show up at any moment and catch them in the act. "Buck, are you sure? There's nowhere I can go I won't be noticed, Lux. I've worked all over the Magna Vale!"

She sighed again, reaching for him. "Copper, I have private quarters. We'll go straight in, you can use my bath. It's a fancy magical tub, hot water, any kind of soap you can imagine." She lowered her voice to a frustrated mutter. "I'm sure she'd take it away and have me living in filth if she could, but she'd have to rip out half the suite."

Copper's mouth fell open. "Really? And you just... crawl through there?"

She climbed up into the vent. "I've come through so many times it should be clean by now. You'll have to be careful getting out—maybe leave the clean uniforms here, so they don't get any slime on them from our trek down."

Finally he followed, stepping up into the vents. Copper was a little bigger than she was, and by nature of his horn he had to keep his head down most of the way. It was the position she least liked to be in, and she got him ahead of her the soonest chance she got. She kept her tail plenty long, and without anything like a braid to make it less useful for covering up. But even so...

"We never talk about who you really are, Lux," he whispered, as they reached the first climb. There weren't steps, but passages to mid-levels gave them somewhere to stick their hooves while they climbed.

"Because it doesn't matter," she replied, as dismissive as ever. "I'm somepony who doesn't care about your bits and just wants to keep their hooves busy. You just got gold marks, remember?"

He grunted unhappily, but didn't say anything else until they were up to her level. She covered her mouth with a hoof after that, gesturing nervously at the vents. It wouldn't be that strange to hear voices coming from the air-ducts, since they connected to all the other rooms. But if Keen Focus heard her talking to somepony...

They reached her vent after a few fearful moments sneaking down the hall. Without any sign of Keen Focus in her room, either. Probably off entertaining the captain again...

"Not sure how long we have until that inspection," she whispered. "But it should be plenty of time." She nudged the grate open, settling it up against the wall the way she always did.

Every time she returned, there was always that little part of herself that surged with terror, fearing her room would be torn apart, with signs that Keen Focus had come for her while she was out.

Not this time—the door was still blocked with her chair, the bed was still made from the morning, and her spare uniforms were still hidden away in her open wardrobe.

She shut the grate firmly behind herself, before gesturing for the open bathroom. "We have the executive treatment in here. I think one of the high officers gave me their room for the trip, so... it's almost as nice as back home. No recycled water, or anything else gross." She gestured to the open bathroom. "Go on, get cleaned up."

He didn't move. He'd only made it as far as the open wardrobe, before he stopped in place, mouth hanging open. "Lux... are you a mare?"

Author's Note

Great little art by https://cosmalumi.carrd.co/ in this chapter!

Chapter 47: For Bad Mistakes

The colt stared back at her, making the same bewildered face she had seen more and more often. Now maybe she was starting to realize what it meant, however much she might not want to admit it. "You've been a mare, all this time? And an... important one."

"Yeah, well... maybe." She shuffled, backing slowly away from him. "It doesn't matter. Just keep calling me Lux. I'm just trying to help you. Don't go into the gross public shower, you can use mine. Then you can pass your inspection with flying colors! More golds, right?"

She laughed nervously, and he echoed the sound. "Y-yeah. More golds." He strode past her into the open bathroom. It wasn't big, not with the space constraints of shipboard life. It could've fit inside the fancy tub back at Vale Manor. Even so, it had still been built for fancy ponies and high officers. There was a fine porcelain tub, with a dozen different soaps and huge, fluffy towels.

Lilac wouldn't admit that she enjoyed using it, not to anypony who mattered.

Copper slid nervously past her, into the cramped space. He stared in amazement at the expensive-looking setup, then touched one hoof up against the faucet. But he didn't seem to know what he was doing, because nothing happened.

"Go ahead and take as long as you need. I've never seen it limit me on water before."

She took a few steps back out the door the way she'd come, but that still drew his attention. "Wait! You're just going to go?"

She shrugged. "You should go first. I'm not sure I should be at the inspection anyway. Captain Aurum knows who I am. I think he'll see through this to how I really look."

He sighed. "At least show me how this works? My family never had anything this nice back home. Just because I've got a horn doesn't mean I'm as fancy as you, Lux. Unicorns have all kinds, just like the other tribes."

"Fine." Her face got warmer as she made her way over. He didn't get out of the way, forcing her to squeeze in close to reach the faucet. She clogged it, then twisted the hot water on. Steam began billowing through the room. It couldn't hide his powerful scent, or her embarrassment. She really needed to think these things through.

It's okay to lie so long as I remember what I told ponies! I can't bring him back here like I'm not actually—

"Thanks, Lux," he said. He glanced nervously towards the door, then met her eyes again. "I knew there was something about you. This last week—I knew it was something. Guess this was it."

She needed to leave. Lilac should be anywhere but in this bathroom right now. Her hooves didn't move. "I didn't mean for it to get weird," she said. "I was just trying to be helpful, honest. Being up here is awful. Fine baths are one thing, but my tutor... she's the worst pony I've ever met. Forcing me to put on fancy dresses and prance around. Makeup, performance, singing." She stuck her tongue out. "I hate all of it, Copper."

His weight shifted beside her. The fog kept billowing around them, turning the mirror into an unreflective mess. But she could still see the one thing that interested her right now.

The pony she'd been following around for a week. He might not be as clever as Risk, or as magically powerful. But he was willing to get his hooves dirty. He was brave, taking her on even when it might get him punished with the ship.

"You'd rather be working on the engines?" he finished. “You'd rather be down there with me? Even if it means getting a little dirty? Not worry about... chipping your hooves, or whatever noble ladies care about?"

She shoved him with a shoulder. Not hard, but the impact still made him stumble. He wasn't expecting it. "Don't you call me that, Copper. I'm a mare, that was forced on me. But I'm not a lady. There's not enough makeup in the world to make me one of those."

The tub was already half full. How long had they been in here? "Sorry, Lux. I think you're a good—you did good work. I've never known anypony with magic like yours. It's so strong, I can feel it even when my eyes are closed. Like a princess, almost. Guess I shouldn't call you that either."

She glowered at him. "No, you shouldn't. Princesses are... the fanciest ponies there are. Gold and castles and palaces where they're locked inside forever. They probably have the most amazing magical libraries at their disposal. They could design incredible spellcraft, but... never leave to cast any of it."

He nodded absently. When had he gotten so close? They were both so covered in slime, it should've disgusted her—it didn't. It just reminded her of a week of adventures together, of escaping Keen Focus's captivity, crawling through the engines, walking along the outside of the Magna Vale, and generally not wearing a dress.

"I won't call you those things," he whispered. "Just, uh... tell me if I'm doing this wrong, okay? The Magna Vale doesn't have other mares like you."

"Doing w—"

He kissed her. For a second she was so shocked that she couldn't move, just stared back into his eyes, unblinking. She should be overwhelmed with disgust. She shouldn't be interested in guys!

The expectation never manifested. She could easily force him off of her—let a unicorn try and force an earth pony to do anything! She didn't push him off.

She wasn't sure exactly how long it lasted. Long enough that she felt the first splash of water from the edge of the tub. She squealed in surprise, then broke away, slamming the faucet shut.

She whimpered, yanking one of her towels off the rack, and hastily stomping up the mess. "That was... not how I expected my time in engineering to go," she finally said.

He grinned. "Didn't expect some mare to descend from the heavens and save my first tour, but here you were."

"Yeah, well..." She forced the unfriendliest expression she could. It wasn't terribly convincing, all things considered. "You say that like I'm somepony special. I'm not, no matter what this room makes you think. You wouldn't even believe where I come from, or the things I've done."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't really care about all that, Lux. Whoever you used to be isn't on the ship with me."

He glanced nervously at the water. "I, uh... do think I should get ready for that inspection now."

"Yeah." She blushed, retreating towards the door. "Get that grease off. Gotta look your best for the captain, right?"

He nodded. "Are you doing any better, Lux? Looks like there's room for two."

As it turned out, there was.

It wasn't quite the most awkward thing she'd ever done, though she couldn't remember anything quite like it in Equestria.

They did get cleaned off, eventually. Whether in time for his inspection or not, Lilac wasn't quite sure. She found herself suddenly very distracted.

Eventually he was gone, back out the way he'd come. She lay relaxed beside her bed, surrounded by damp towels. The window was open, airing out the powerful smell of her guest as best she could. There was still enough mess that she should deal with it, but she just couldn't muster the energy to try... not yet, anyway.

"Your friend is gone," said a little voice, from the windowsill. She looked up, and found Saffron returned. He perched there beside the pot, looking stern. "Are you certain that was a wise decision?"

She shrugged one shoulder, not meeting his eyes. "I think something's wrong with me, Saffron. My last few months have been one bad decision after another. I've barely known Copper for a week."

He buzzed over to her, floating just off the edge of her bed. "The same predictable bad decisions as members of your kind have made since time immemorial. But if you expect this to change your responsibilities, you're mistaken. When we return to Willowbrook tomorrow, you have nearly two months of missed commitments in the grove. The others would riot, if you hadn't been taken against your will."

Her incomplete work back home. Of course her relationship as a student worked in both directions. Sometimes that just meant moving around heavy objects for the breezies, or giving her opinion about the position of unique plants. Other times it meant using her earth pony magic in specific ways, to benefit the health of the grove.

None of it bothered her. But there was something else buried in his words, so subtle she almost missed it. And maybe would have, if she hadn't studied under him for years. "Tomorrow? We're still months away!"

He shook his head sharply. "I think time aboard the Magna Vale is getting to you, student of mine. It's forgivable—you have no seasons here, no sunrise, no rain. You're completely disconnected from nature. You spend all that time crawling through machines, and you imagine that you belong here. But could you be happy on a hunk of flying wood and steel, never touching the loam with your own hooves?"

She opened her mouth to argue in the affirmative, but came up short. There were parts of this life that she could fall in love with. Fixing machines wasn't her talent, but it was a predictable way to spend her days. Clean, sweat, work... and maybe something else, now.

"You're kidding me," she argued. "I just..." Her ears tucked flat to her head. She made a frustrated whimpering sound, burying her face in her pillow. "Please tell me you're lying, Saffron."

"That would be a lie too," he chastised. He floated towards her, alongside the pillow. "You know what we say about lies. They bind us far tighter than any truth could do. Know them, and speak them wisely."

She whimpered, shoving her head deeper into the covers. "He works on the Magna Vale," she muttered. "I can't believe I let that happen."

"Because you're so much better than the other mares your age, Lilac? Why should you be? You're no less responsible than all the others who jump into reckless action. Did you count on your normal cycle of fertility to keep you from the consequences? You should know, that is not a guarantee. You're young and powerful, which makes this dangerous. I would not make it a habit, unless you want to offer your firstborn to the forest as well as yourself."

She shuddered. That quiet, all-body contentment was starting to fade, replaced with a dozen different flavors of nervous fear. Could that really happen the first time? She'd never imagined she would ever get this far—so why bother learning?

Lilac wasn't staying in this world, after all. When she got home, she wouldn't be interested in a male partner anymore. I didn't think I wanted one before, either.

But it wasn't what had just happened that filled her with regret—it was knowing that she couldn't see him again. "I have to tell him," she whispered. She rolled out of bed, making her swift way to the writing-desk. She ignored the mess they'd made, far too focused on this singular goal. He deserved to know.

"There's nothing you can put on that page that won't fill him with pain. You too, by the way. This is good—magic takes passion, student. To love and not know heartbreak is to paint with greens and blues, but forget the yellows and reds. Without it, you cannot form every color."

She whimpered, taking the quill in her mouth. "You want me to just... disappear? I could step off the ship tomorrow, and he'll never know what happened."

The bug landed beside her blank paper, watching. "Oh, I did not say that. I speak for the flowers and the weeds, Lilac. I do not speak for love."

Love. Was that really what she felt? It was all so sudden, she barely even realized what she was doing. Passion, maybe. But those weren't the same.

She took the quill in her mouth, and scribbled as fast as she could.

Chapter 48: Behind the Line

Firefly rode the rest of the way into town on the royal carriage, doing her best to keep from squirming. The longer she was there, the greater her sense of profound danger grew. These visiting ponies had come all the way from the royal court. What did that all mean?

It felt like everything was happening at once in Willowbrook. First the failed portal-spell, then the castle in the sky, now this. Maybe it was all connected, somehow? I wonder if there was anypony waiting in the castle.

The carriage received the expected reaction as they walked into the city—townsponies pulled in close to each other, lowered their voices, and pretended not to see it. If they went to the wrong side of town, they might get themselves some actual violence. Whoever attacked Rainbow Dash would probably wish they hadn't, given how strong she was in the air.

"Listen, sweetheart," Twilight said, after a few more minutes. "We're about to begin a dangerous search through the city. It wouldn't be responsible to bring a pony your age along. But we might need to find you to ask you more questions. Where could we find you again?"

"Probably up there, Twi," Rainbow Dash pointed through one of the windows, up out of sight. Firefly couldn't see what she was looking at, but she didn't have to. The city's few cloud-houses would be up there, tethered to the cliffside. Otherwise, they would get drawn into the gyre, and eventually crash upon Refuse Cenotaph like all the others. "There's only two houses. Not a lot of pegasus ponies here."

"I'm, uh..." She pointed a different direction. "Live on the ground. My dad and I work salvaging old cloud-buildings, so I think he doesn't trust 'em much. We're in that apartment there. Top floor."

Twilight repeated her instructions to the driver, and soon they were moving that direction again. "Do you know any other ponies who might be—" Twilight hesitated, glancing to Rainbow Dash. "You sure we should be involving a filly in this?"

The pony sized her up again, then nodded. "Honestly, we could probably bring her into the mine. What we did today was way crazier than looking at ugly old rocks."

It seemed like an extremely bad idea, one that would get the entire Lightless Star furious with her. Unless being near these ponies could somehow help keep critical information from falling into the wrong hooves.

"I don't like being underground much," she admitted. "But if there's anything you need, I'll try to help. I'd rather do stuff in the sky, though—I know everypony on the Junior Weather Brigade! Do you want us to change the schedule for you? Or... help find more interesting sky-ruins? I can do that stuff awesome."

"I can't imagine why Rainbow took in this particular stray," Rarity muttered. "No resemblance whatsoever."

Was that an insult, or a compliment? It felt like something she might've understood before. But all this time living with ponies had changed what mattered to Firefly. She was only interested in what Rainbow Dash thought.

"Well, do you know if there are any ponies in town we can trust?" Twilight asked. "Anywhere safe for us to stay, while we're investigating?"

"Well, uh—probably not in Old Town, unless you want to stay with me. My father and I have a whole floor of the apartment. Mostly he collects furniture, but we could make room! Otherwise, you should go to Brookside. Ponies are moving in from Los Pegasus all the time. They have this really expensive hotel. Probably just right for city ponies. I don't think anyone in town works there, so you should be safe."

"See, what did I tell you?" Rainbow Dash reached over, mussing Firefly's mane affectionately. "Where could we get better information than that? She practically knows the whole town."

If I'm useful, maybe she'll teach me more of her tricks. "I do!" she exclaimed. "I mean, I've flown over it so many times. If you gave me a map, I could probably tell you where to avoid. There's a long list. All kinds of dangerous things live around here."

The carriage came to a stop, right in front of Firefly's building. Local ponies scattered at the sight. A group of other children playing on the steps fled over the fence. Ponies approaching the building from the other side turned away, finding they had sudden other business. Anywhere the carriage went, the street emptied.

Twilight looked out the window, scratching her chin with one hoof. "I do have a few survey maps. Do you think we could... come inside? I would like to get your parents' permission before we involve you in any official Canterlot business."

"And if there's anything to eat in there, that would be awesome too," Rainbow said. "With the way some of these ponies look, I'm afraid they'd try to poison me."

Rarity turned to glare in her direction, hissing under her breath. "Rainbow, that's a filly you're talking to! You're going to terrify her!"

Firefly just nodded. Thinking about townspeople just attacking these visitors like that did seem a bit extreme. Maybe playing cruel jokes on them, trying to make them feel unwelcome. Anything to get them out of town as quickly as possible.

"It's all the way at the top. I uh—I'll have to cook for you if you're hungry. My dad's so bad he'd poison all of us without even meaning to."

She made her way to the door, glancing back to see that the pegasus at least was following. She did, shouldering a light satchel with her as she went. It had her cutie-mark sewn into the side—her suitcase?

"We're actually doing this? That building doesn't seem structurally sound, Twilight dear. Maybe we should investigate this ‘hotel’ she mentioned. The filly has already given more than enough."

Twilight Sparkle levitated the door open, onto Firefly's street. The gloom of deep cloud and the drizzle of rain did little to make it seem less intimidating. She eyed the ponies looming in nearby alleys, the broken buildings, then stuck her head back inside and shut the door again.

"I have another idea. Rainbow, you found her. Why don't you fly up with her, and see if her family minds if we borrow her for the night. She can give us that map, and explain anything else we ought to know before investigating."

Rainbow tossed her pack to the side, then nodded. "Wish Applejack was here—she'd be brave enough to go up with me." She turned. "That balcony up there, is that yours?"

Firefly nodded. Before she could even open her mouth to suggest a race—Rainbow was already up. She blurred right through the door, then up into the sky like a living rocket. Firefly limped up behind her, settling onto the balcony. "This one goes right into my bedroom," she explained, going for the door. It was unlocked of course, every pegasus who might visit her here she would just want to come right inside.

The room beyond was dark, but she flipped the switch as she walked inside. She felt suddenly self-conscious about all the mess—flight books and posters scattered everywhere, and one of her journals open on the desk.

The pegasus glanced down at it, then her eyes settled on the posters. "I thought I saw you trying that one up there. The old Current spiral. But what it should say is that you've got to tuck in your tailfeathers right here, as you turn over. Otherwise, the drag makes you turn way too wide..."

A single pair of nervous hoofsteps sounded from beyond the door, then her father's voice. "Firefly? Is that you? I don't know that friend."

Firefly opened the door, grinning sheepishly at him. "That's because, uh—Dad, this is Rainbow Dash. She's here with..."

"An official investigation into Willowbrook," Rainbow said, extending one polite hoof. "You're her dad?"

Dusty froze. In all her years living with him, Firefly had never seen Dusty afraid. Even while they raced through collapsing clouds, dodging debris that could kill them if they misjudged. Even when they faced down rain and thunder. Even when he left to attend rituals with the Lightless Star.

But she saw it now. His ears flipped back, his wings opened, body tensed. For a second, she wasn't sure if he was going to fly right out the window, or attack.

"Dad?" She nudged his shoulder. "We met while I was flying after school. She taught me amazing things. I've never seen a pony fly like her in my whole life!"

At her prompting, he relaxed. He took the offered hoof, though he held it for only a second. Barely enough to be polite. "Did my daughter do something wrong, Miss Dash?" he asked. "Is she... under arrest for a crime?"

Rainbow blanched. "What? No!" She took one step back. "We've had some trouble finding anypony willing to talk to us. Your daughter offered to help us find somewhere safe to stay, and give us directions around Willowbrook. We were hoping you would let her stay the night, to fill in the gaps for us about the city."

Now Dusty's face was back to the way she remembered it—a proper mask, as neutral as his voice. "Do you mind if I have a private word with my daughter for a moment?"

He didn't actually wait for her to reply, just yanked Firefly by the foreleg, and dragged her right out the door. He went all the way down the hall, then into one of his chair rooms.

He shut that door too, so they stood together in a single dark space, without windows. There was nothing at all inside it in fact, except for chairs. They were stacked up on every surface, so that she had to fly if she wanted to get to the light switch. But Dusty seemed not to care about the dark.

"Do you have any idea who that is, Firefly? The pony you brought?"

"Rainbow Dash," she repeated. "I mean, she's really good in the air. Best flier I've ever seen."

"That is one of the Elements of Harmony," Dusty whispered. The terror was back in his voice. "Firefly, they work directly with the Princesses. If they knew what you were, they would kill you without remorse." He shook his head, backing away from her. "I feared they might find you by chance. But you've led them right here on the first day of their investigation."

She flushed, ears pressing flat to her head. "They seemed so nice," she whispered. "I met the others. Two unicorns. Rarity and... Twilight Sparkle. Those were their names. They asked about Cyan Mines."

He let go of her leg, releasing her. "We need a way to distract them. I might know something, but I'm not sure—she's seen it before. She might know the signs."

Firefly didn't have a clue what that meant. But she wouldn't ask. Instead, she took one step to the door. "Maybe I should just—go with them anyway?" she said. "They're afraid of Willowbrook, think everypony is out to get them. But if I'm leading them around—they won't look at me, would they? They'll be too focused on everypony else."

Dusty stopped pacing, falling silent.

"Is everything okay in there?" Rainbow asked, from just down the hall. "I didn't mean to get your daughter in trouble. I can just go, Firefly."

And if she did, Firefly would never get to learn from her again. Whatever the danger the Lightless Star claimed she was in, Firefly couldn't let that happen.

"Wait!" She shoved the door open, hurrying into the hall. "I want to go with you! Just let me grab something—what do ponies usually bring to hotels again? Toothbrush, uh..."

"I dunno." Rainbow stopped in the hall, looking skeptical. "We couldn't bring you without your parents' permission, kid."

Dusty emerged from the door another second later, expression totally changed. It was some of the best acting she'd ever seen from another pony, a sudden look of intensity and fear. He hurried down the hall towards them. "The ponies of Willowbrook will be frightened and angry with you," he began. "If you bring my daughter, it's important that you make it seem as though she's helping you against her will. Claim that you've taken her for questioning, that she's your prisoner."

He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Whatever is rotten in the city, I hope she can help you find it. But we're not strong enough to fight on our own, not like you."

Rainbow Dash nodded confidently. She answered in a similar whisper. "Have no fear, brave citizen. We'll make sure no one knows her true loyalty."

Chapter 49: Official Channels

She hurried from the apartment after that, barely even stopping to think about what to bring with her as she tossed it into a pack. Her last few days made decreasing sense the more she thought about it. Was it really a good idea to hide from the ponies by remaining in plain sight? By being close to them, she would invite more attention than if she hid in her room and did nothing.

Too late now. I could've got her to leave me alone before.

"You won't need much," Rainbow said, waving a dismissive hoof. "Looks good, let's get going! Whenever we go on trips like this, Celestia pays for everything. You can have a whole hotel room for yourself for the night. You give Twilight and the others the boring stuff about the map, then you tell me about the flight education here in Willowbrook." She glanced back down the hall, where her father had gone.

He wasn't standing in the room to watch them, but she knew he wouldn't be far away. As soon as they flew away he would start pacing, terrified for her future. He would not stop until she returned alive, or—maybe didn't.

They wouldn't kill me. They're too nice.

Firefly tossed the satchel over her shoulder, then hurried after her, following her to the balcony. "Are you going to pretend I'm a prisoner?"

Rainbow nodded. "Rarity will have lots of fun with that, I'm sure. She likes to pretend she's a private investigator sometimes, solving 'crimes'. That's why she wanted to come. Not the scary fights we might be having."

Rainbow struck at the open air with one hoof, then deflated. "I didn't mean to scare you. This whole trip seems like we're just overreacting about an earthquake. There probably won't be any fights, and none while you're around. You're just here for directions."

She followed the pegasus down to the waiting carriage, letting Rainbow lead her inside. If anyone was watching, they would see her escorted out of the apartment again, “prisoner” of the pegasus.

"Ah, you're back!" Twilight was still on her hooves, and she settled dramatically back into her seat as they approached. "Good, good. I don't like the looks some of those ponies are giving us." She gestured to the empty seat beside her, for Firefly to look. "Map's right there, but it's old. Where's the hotel you recommended?"

Firefly leaned down, then saw just what Twilight meant. It was so out of date it didn't even show Brookside. She pointed to the last street that connected. "We need to go left off Yew, on the other side of the water. It's easy to see—there aren't streetlights in Old Town. So if you see light, it means you're going the right way."

"Delightful," Rarity said. "No streetlights. Twilight, I sure hope you're prepared for the danger of this mission. We're risking life and limb in the service of Equestria. Or at the very least, a few weeks without the help of a competent masseuse."

They rode across town, following Firefly's directions.

"One thing," Rainbow said. "Her dad—real weird pony, like all the rest—"

"Quiet," Rarity hissed. "She's right there."

"It's okay, I know." Firefly hopped up into her seat. “It's the friendly kinda weird though, not the spooky kind. He just spends a little too long with his head in the clouds. Forgets how regular ponies think down on the ground."

That was how she sometimes explained it to her friends, anyway. It felt a little like a lie each time she said it, knowing that there was more about her father she couldn't explain. It was probably something about membership in the Lightless Star that had done it, warping his perception of what was normal. Obviously that wasn't something she could share with these ponies.

"He thinks it's best for us to pretend that she's a prisoner," Rainbow went on, oblivious to her thoughts. "Nopony should be helping us willingly. But if she's trapped, her neighbors might go easier on her?"

"I guess that... does make sense," Twilight said. "Very well, Firefly. Consider yourself officially under arrest. For... unkept... public mane. Or something. I'll make it sound really nefarious when I put it in the paperwork. We'll file it with the city when we leave, and everypony will hear about how we arrested you. Okay?"

She grinned back. "Sounds good to me." She reached up with a hoof, trying to straighten her mane. Unfortunately half of it had been sheared off recently, and there was nothing useful her hoof could manage.

Firefly faded into the background, listening as these adult ponies talked about the importance of their investigation, and the various leads they'd gathered other than her. She did her best to be as unobtrusive as possible, interrupting only to give directions.

Shame Lilac wasn't in her place—that pony would probably know most of the locations that these important ponies talked about investigating. Maybe she would even know how to lead them down false trails.

I can't keep them out of the mine, they already know it was where the magic happened. But where should I try to send them after?

There was only one place in the city that might actually lead these ponies to the ones who had cast this spell. Lilac's laboratory, sheltered in the domain of the Breezies. That was where these ponies couldn't go.

Or they could figure out that both of us appeared from nowhere a few years ago. They might connect that there's a filly out of town, right after the explosion. Or maybe they'll ask and find out about how interested Lilac was in magic.

"That's the place!" She pointed at a towering building, lights shining in its crystal windows. It looked entirely out of place at the center of Brookside, like a colonist of a much healthier, rival nation. Some view it would have over brooding old houses and gnarled forests.

Ten minutes later, and Firefly was walking into the hotel room. They had indeed given her a room of her own, though it was attached to the "Royal Suite" on the top floor. With limited exception in the Cumulus Maze, it was the most expensive place she'd ever been.

Twilight called her in a little while later—not for looking at maps, but with a huge room-service order. "We've been traveling all day," Rainbow said, as she made her way in. "I explained how awesome you were flying earlier, and that you must've worked up an appetite. Come have some!"

She patted the chair next to her, and Firefly obliged, hopping up. The pegasus wasn't wrong—she was starving after flying like that.

"You'll find it's entirely poison-free," Rarity explained. "Twilight here is a bit of a mastermind with her magic. The only danger at this table is being left bloated after consuming more than one should."

She ate in silence, listening to the investigators plan out their next few days. With Lilac here, she might be able to know why they were interested in the “historical society” or what they thought they could learn from the “department of geology”.

Most of it had nothing to do with her, so she kept herself occupied with food. Or talking to Rainbow about pegasus stuff. "What I wouldn't give for a little filly like you back in Ponyville," she said. "I've got this—little sister living there. She wants to fly more than anything in the world, but just can't get herself up into the air. Having somepony her own age to tutor her—that'd be sweet."

Firefly flushed with the compliment. That did sound fun, helping a little pegasus her age. She already sorta did that with River, and the rest of her class. "Not that you'd need me," she said. "I only wish there was somepony as good in the air as you are. I've never even seen a pony move like that. My dad flies all wrong, and at school nopony cares. They've got no ambition, just wanna do whatever they need for weather duty, and nothing else."

It couldn't all be fun conversation about the Wonderbolts and all the interesting maneuvers she could pull off with the right instruction. The leader of this investigation did eventually expect her to help.

"First thing we're looking for is a suspect," Rarity said, as soon as the meal was cleared away, and the table was filled with maps. Most of them were old and out of date, useless for this investigation. But they would still show many of the potentially dangerous parts of Willowbrook. "What kind of spell were we talking about, Twilight?"

The unicorn looked nervously away. "Oh, I don't think that would be appropriate for a little pony her age. We're just—looking for a unicorn. They might be old or young, they might be a mare or a stallion. But they'll be brilliant. The kind of pony who spends most of their time in old libraries."

"Are you admitting to it, Twi?" Rainbow Dash asked, grinning. "That sounds a lot like you."

Twilight flushed, in a way Firefly couldn't tell was annoyed or embarrassed. Was that flirting?

I used to know what flirting looked like. At least she was starting to remember why she might want to get with another pony again. These last few years had been so confusing.

"Obviously not. Would you... happen to know anypony in town like that, Firefly? A smart, methodical unicorn. This pony—they did something incredibly dangerous, but had everything in place to clean up the mess. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

She let those words hang ominously over the room. But Firefly already knew what they meant, because Lilac had said the same thing. The Unmade creature they had accidentally released—she called it a “city destroyer.”

But we weren't methodical at all. We just got super unlucky, then also incredibly lucky right after.

"I don't know any unicorns like that," she said. She didn't even have to lie, either. "A bad pony would have to be way older than me though, right? I probably wouldn't meet them. I don't go to a lot of libraries."

"Right," Rarity said. "Unless you think our culprit is another prodigy like you, Twilight. I do recall a story about a cactus—"

"We're not talking about that either," Twilight said hastily. "But you're right. We're not looking for a little filly—this would be intentional, and you'd feel how wrong it was every second. The kind of willpower it would take to keep casting is rare even among grown ponies. Starswirl could've done it, or Clover, perhaps a dozen others."

When Firefly looked back, Rarity was wearing a strange hat and a jacket she hadn't been before. She levitated a little notebook in front of her, eyes hardened. "Anything else we should know about the perpetrator, Twilight?"

"Around her?" the unicorn asked. "It might not be—"

"It's fine," Rainbow said, exasperated. "She's a tough little filly, I saw. Besides, she lives here. If we don't find whoever they are, she might be able to keep her eyes out."

"Well..." Twilight hesitated another second. "They're probably completely insane. I won't be able to know for certain, until we've seen the site of the spell. But this pony did really evil magic, the kind that just takes your whole brain and puts it through a blender. If anypony else saw it, they'd have trouble even remembering what happened."

"I'll put in a word with the royal guard tomorrow morning," Rarity said. "But from what we've seen around Willowbrook so far, it might be hard for them to identify any crazy ponies in this town. They're all a little insane—present company excluded, of course."

They continued without her for another long while, listing other leads that Firefly didn't think would ever get them anywhere. She occasionally spoke up with warnings—about what parts of town not to visit, or who might be most cooperative. All insignificant details to Firefly, though they would probably be a tremendous benefit to the investigation.

"Anything else we should avoid while we're in town. What dangers should we be afraid of?" Twilight asked.

They were all watching her again, even Rainbow Dash. This was her chance to prove she could be useful, and maybe earn herself a little more instruction from a master.

She told them.

Chapter 50: Friendly Advice

She told them everything that might be useful to stay safe in Willowbrook. That didn't mean she told them everything. She didn't mention House Vale, or the fairy glade upon the mountains. She didn't say a word about her friends, or anypony else in town for that matter.

Being arrested might be part of her cover, but there was definitely a line between helping the strangers avoid danger and actually betraying the Lightless Star. She had no intention of crossing that line, at least not while they were at the pleasure of that organization.

Equestria would kill us if they knew what we were. So she couldn't tell them anything that would lead to the cult. Sooner or later, that information would trace back to her.

She'd brought one thing she could use to fill in the gaps on their map—her journal. She flipped through its pages, scribbling additions to their working map. Twilight watched from the side, squinting down.

"What script are you using, Firefly? That language looks... difficult."

She looked down, then flushed, ears flattening. Her journal included all kinds of things—musings about her time on Earth, adventures she'd been on with Lilac. But she hadn't even considered if there was danger to bringing it out in front of these ponies—they couldn't read English.

"It's, uh... a pretend one I made up with my friends," she lied. "I used to catch my dad reading my diary sometimes, so I started writing it like this." She flipped forward a few pages, until she found something more innocent—a drawing she'd made of Lilac. Much better than some of the dismal attempts when she had first started.

"This place is nuts," Rainbow said, as soon as she'd finished. She looked over the modified version of the map, squinting down at it. "Carnivorous fish in the lake. Ghosts that come for you on some roads, if the weather is right. Festivals you can't disrespect, or you get sick—why would anypony live here?"

"I'm not... entirely certain how much of it is strictly true," Twilight said. "There does seem to be an element of, uh—folklore. But there's no reason we should ignore any of these customs. I believe we can complete our investigation without disrespecting any of these sites."

She pointed at the mines on the map. "You've been incredibly helpful, Firefly. In the morning, Rainbow can take you home."

"After some time in the air," she privately added. "I'd like to see how you do with a few of the Wonderbolt drills. If you're gonna aim towards the academy when you're older, I can give you some spoilers about what they expect. That way you know what to practice."

Firefly beamed. It was everything she could've hoped for. "We may have a few more questions," Rarity added. "When we've completed our investigation. In case there are loose ends that could use a—reliable local narrator."

Firefly didn't go right to bed. While Rarity and Twilight were occupied with maps of the mine and plans for the next day, Firefly listened to Rainbow's stories. Some of them were downright insane. Fighting against an evil moon-god, or a spirit of chaos. An invasion of the capital by shapeshifting monsters.

The way Rainbow told them, she was at the center of every adventure, with friends who were there to help in the areas she lacked. It sounded like she was leaving things out. But Firefly didn't care. By sheer chance, she'd attracted the attention of one of the most interesting ponies in the world.

She wasn't exactly sure when she went to sleep. She didn't do it in her room, which she saw as soon as she rose. She heard voices from nearby, speaking in hushed tones.

Her head was up against rough fabric—the couch. The investigators had covered her with a blanket, but they were still talking.

"And you're quite certain there's no magical shortcut to all this?" Rarity was saying. "There's no spell to be cast, once we reach the place the Lightless Star defiled with their evil magic?"

"Probably not. Princess Celestia is sure there was an Umbrum here. They have the power to warp magic, unraveling it. Our best hope is that some of the diagrams or raw materials were left behind."

"Sure they can't just call in the army?" Rainbow asked. "Like—if this is really that bad, maybe we should be turning over the whole town, not playing detective. I don't like that there are innocent little fillies like her growing up in this nightmare town."

"Stopping this cult is beyond what we're here to do right now," Twilight said. "I'll talk to the princess, see if there's more she could do. But right now, our job is making sure the pony who did this can't do it again."

"Assuming they're even still alive," Rarity said. "Forgive me, I don't mean to sound so morbid. But I can't be the only pony thinking it, based on the description you gave. Isn't it possible that they managed to stop this monster, without surviving the attempt? Maybe there isn't a suspect for us to find. The filly did say something about gunpowder, did she not? Maybe the detonation... well, you know."

"It's possible," Twilight admitted. "That would be a shame. Celestia was hoping we would be able to bring them back to her. It would be better to rehabilitate the pony than..."

Firefly pressed her head into the couch, holding her body as still as she could. She couldn't let them see she was awake, or they might stop with all this information they didn't want her to know.

But it was so hard to stay awake—their voices blurred into her breathing, and she was asleep again.

At least until someone nudged her gently on the shoulder. She looked up, and found Rainbow standing there. The pale glow of sunrise shone in through the window behind her. "Hey, Firefly. Wake up."

They flew that morning—and into the afternoon. Rainbow didn't take her home until the carriage rolled away from the hotel far below, setting off towards the mine.

That was for the best—this pegasus could keep going forever without showing even the slightest sign of wearing out. "There might not be anything else for you to do, kid," she said, when they landed on the balcony. "Wouldn't want to be around you too much, for ponies to see."

Firefly practically collapsed onto the balcony, her wings falling limp to either side. It hurt now, but her body still pulsed with energy. Rainbow didn't go easy on her the way her instructors at school did. Maybe if she could get River to fly with her in the mornings, she could keep up a training schedule. It would be too hard to do on her own.

"Yeah," she said. "I hope some of what I told you can help. What you're doing here sounds so... scary. Guess I'm not that sad you don't want me going underground with you."

"I think you’re brave enough," Rainbow said. "But Twilight won't have it. We can't get some local filly hurt while we're investigating. If we find anything down there—"

She shook her head. "I want you to write me before you apply to the Wonderbolts, okay? I put my address into your journal, you'll find it. I'll make sure they give your application the attention it deserves. And if you're ever in Ponyville—look me up. There are some ponies I'd like you to meet."

Rainbow had looked through her journal while she was asleep? Her ears flattened to her head as she thought about it. Hopefully the mare hadn't noticed the sketches she made of her classmates...

"You don't think we'll talk again before you leave?" she asked. She tried not to sound pathetic—but she definitely sounded pathetic.

"We might," Rainbow said. "But in the meantime, just make sure you tell anypony who asks how harsh we were. We kept you up all night asking you questions. We, uh... drew scary pictures, and made you look at them. We gave you all the worst ice cream flavors."

Firefly nodded. "Good luck finding your, uh... unicorn."

The pegasus spread her wings, preparing to take off. Then she stopped, glancing over her shoulder. "Oh, one more thing. I know there aren't a lot of little ponies who feel the same way we do. You might feel like there's nopony to talk to."

She draped one wing over Firefly's shoulder, lowering her voice. "But you should totally ask that filly out. She'd be lucky to get a special somepony as awesome as you."

She let go, leaving Firefly's face practically burning with heat. "Y-you how?"

She couldn't read all the stupid things Firefly wrote about Lilac. But there were plenty of little sketches in the margins.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Because I've been there. You just gotta ask her. And if she doesn't feel the same way—find somepony who does. You've got a lifetime. Love is one of those things that doesn't go as fast as we want it to."

She took off, scattering dust and fallen leaves off Firefly's balcony. She stared after the pegasus, watching as she cut across town and vanished from sight.

She hurried inside, depositing her satchel of possessions. She couldn't help flipping through her journal before she did anything else, searching for whatever Rainbow had left.

The pegasus hadn’t hidden it, just flipped all the way to the last page. There was her signature and address, in hoofwriting messier than Firefly's own. There was a brief note, reiterating what she had just said. Firefly should send her a letter before applying to the Wonderbolts.

But I never will. Lilac is going to get us back to Earth. I won't be staying around long enough to get accepted.

Firefly needed some time to catch her breath, so she used the next hour or so to write what she remembered of her meeting with the Canterlot investigators—in English, of course. When Lilac came back, she might be able to make sense of it. But for that to happen, she would need to record their words exactly.

Dusty would be at work right then, probably visiting with the Skywatcher Society, or maybe up in the air investigating some new ruin.

I wonder what happened to that storm-castle. She would have to visit Refuse Cenotaph when she got the chance, and see if anything had crashed into it. She doubted that whole city in the clouds could have fallen, or she would've heard something by now.

She wasn't that surprised to hear someone knocking on her balcony door, then poke their head inside.

"Firefly, you back?"

That was Velvet Moon. These days, seeing her was a reminder of the unfairness of puberty—she looked so mature for her age already, while Firefly felt like she'd never grow up. Less embarrassing, since she didn't have any of the same confusing fog in her head when River was around.
Rainbow thinks I'm gay.

How was any one pony supposed to handle so much pressure?

"Sure am." She sat up from her journal, flicking it closed. There was probably more she could write, but she had already hit the highlights. She would go crazy if she tried to sit here all afternoon. "You're up early."

Velvet nodded. "Haven't seen you in days. Is everything okay?"

Firefly nodded weakly. This was her friend, so she didn't want to lie. But if she shared the wrong things, ponies might overhear. Maybe her dad would get in trouble—or she would.

The Lightless Star think we're gods. Would they still try to punish us?

"Better now. Got arrested for the first time."

"Arrested?" she repeated. "What does that mean? You’re not in jail!"

Firefly rehearsed the story the investigators had given her. She kept from lying as much as she could. Yes, they'd taken her to their hotel, and asked her many questions. She had warned them about various dangers in the city, but never mentioned anything she shouldn't know. She hadn't told them about the cult's hideouts, or anything specific about how to find them.

"Woah," Velvet said, when she was finished. "Why do you think they're here, anyway?"

She shrugged. "Something about that explosion, I guess. They're scared of the magic that happened. Wouldn't tell me why."

That last part wasn't technically a lie. She'd overheard most of it when she slept.

"If you're free, you should come over to River’s. Everypony's getting ready for the Fetlock Fete tomorrow. Are you going?"

She glanced nervously around the room, her eyes eventually falling on the dress she had stolen from the sky. She lifted it in one hoof. "Guess I should. Let's go!"

Chapter 51: Dark Probe

It took over a week for Firefly to hear from the members of the expedition again. They didn't visit, but instead their communication came in a letter she found waiting on her balcony by morning. She tried not to feel too much resentment that they didn't bother talking to her in person.

The letter obviously hadn't been written by Rainbow, judging by the precise hoofwriting on stationary paper from a library she'd never heard of.

"Miss Firefly,

I have some dark news to share with you. I would ordinarily not wish to burden someone of your age with this information, but you were so helpful to our investigation that we simply cannot leave you in the dark.

We found evidence of a powerful sorcerer living in Willowbrook, one with just enough knowledge and power to be a danger to themselves and everypony else. We were not able to identify who they might be, only determine that they certainly escaped the accident alive.

As I said, I don't wish to cause you anxiety. Do not turn this letter over if you think your mental health might be in doubt. If you decide to stop here, know that we didn't communicate with you again to avoid any connection between you and our investigation.

Living in Willowbrook is dangerous, and we don't want to make it worse."

Firefly stared at the page, suppressing a giggle. Did she actually think that would stop any young pony from reading? Something so scary she wasn't supposed to turn the letter over. Of course, she'd stop right away.

"Everypony in Willowbrook is in danger. There exists an ancient organization, one that is known to Canterlot but thus far has avoided conviction in any crimes. They are called the Lightless Star, the strange religion you mentioned to us.

We believe the sorcerer we're looking for is either a member or former member of this organization. They possess knowledge long restricted and thought destroyed. So long as they remain at large, everypony in your city is at risk.

Equestria will take steps to cement greater control of the region, and one day we hope to completely root them out. But in the meantime, remember this one important rule:

If you ever hear anything happening in your city—if there are fires, or screams, or the sound of fighting—fly away as fast as you can, and do not look back. If you even see what follows, your sanity will be compromised, and you will not be able to flee. If something like what happened in Cyan Mines ever happens again, I fear many ponies will die.

If you ever discover information that you believe might lead us to the sorcerer responsible for this, please write back to me at this address. I have included a thaumic cypher based on the alphabet you invented.

-Twilight Sparkle

PS. Sorry about copying your code, I couldn't help trying to solve it. I just love puzzles."

There was another sheet included, which had an incomplete table of the English alphabet, mapping to Equestrian glyphs. She giggled in spite of herself at the associations Twilight had chosen. She had tried to solve this puzzle, but this code was nowhere near correct. Writing Equestrian words this way would make unpronounceable salad in English.

Firefly tucked the letter away in her journal, at about the same moment she noticed another letter slipped under her door.

This one had a proper stamp and everything, and came from an entirely different writer.

Firefly tore it open eagerly, unsurprised to find English writing waiting for her inside. She read it over quickly, and found its contents entirely predictable. Lilac had been kidnapped without a chance to say goodbye, she was trapped on a ship and didn't know when she would get back.

Her friend had tried to warn her about the coming investigation, and the threat to her life if they discovered her.

Just like Dusty. Except they were both wrong. I spent a whole night with them. They think I'm on their side!

Wasn't she? Firefly had spent years in Willowbrook now, surrounded by mysteries and dangers. Her room had a pinboard of rules, updated whenever new dangers were discovered. She had to remember all the right holidays, who not to offend, and where not to go.

If that wasn't enough, there was an evil cult hanging over her head, promising that Equestria wanted her dead. Only total loyalty would guarantee her survival.

Nopony she ever asked told her anything new. They just repeated the same stories, reiterated the same dangers. Should I have told Rainbow the truth? Would Twilight Sparkle have really killed her, if she knew? They hadn't done anything wrong!

Well Lilac had, technically. Her failed summoning was the reason Equestria had investigated Willowbrook in the first place. All to find a way to return home.

Charlie had once longed to return to that life—back when her girlfriend might still remember her, when she still had pets and a home and a job to go back to.

It had been years.Her family certainly thought she was dead; her girlfriend would've moved on. There were no children waiting tearfully for their father.

Firefly missed that life. She wanted to tell those people how much she loved them. But did she really want to go back? She could imagine the awkward return to a world that had long-since moved on, like the ending of Castaway.

Lilac had more to lose. She was a doctor; she had a practice she worked for. But that office would be gone, her loans would be forgotten and not need to be paid. Her clients would've all found other psychiatrists. She didn't even have a significant other. Her secret passion, magic, was easier in Equestria than it would ever be on Earth.

Firefly copied Twilight's address into her journal, then shredded the letter along with Lilac's, placing them both into the fireplace along with some kindling. While they burned, she saw the solution that should've been obvious to her, dancing in the smoke and flame.

There was an easy way to prevent the "sorceress" from endangering Willowbrook again. There might even be a way for the two of them to escape the Lightless Star's influence, and become ordinary citizens.

Years ago, she never could've imagined it, let alone accepted what it meant. But now—now it was inevitable. All it would take them to escape now was letting go of lives they couldn't have anyway. How hard could that be?

There was only one more consequence of the investigation, one she should've seen coming the instant she agreed to help. The Lightless Star sent somepony to talk to her.

It wasn't a group of armed thugs, the way townsponies always whispered. Instead, it was Lady Iris Vale, who arrived after school the following day, and sent a servant to collect her.

Firefly climbed into the familiar carriage, half-expecting Lilac to be waiting for her. Her hope was instantly dashed when she saw the mare settled elegantly into the other side, sipping from a little tray of tea. "We speak for the honor of the gods," she said.

Firefly fell instantly still in her seat, ears flattening. That phrase was a code, one everypony in Willowbrook knew. It meant she was talking to a member of the cult, and they expected religious obedience. They were the real authority in Willowbrook.

Despite her role as a summoned, embodied god, those expectations were not lower for her. She just didn't know what they would do if she failed to measure up. "And I listen," she repeated, staring fixedly on the floor. She fidgeted her wings to either side, but otherwise remained entirely still, volunteering nothing.

"You might not be aware, but the Equestrian expedition left yesterday," she said. "The danger to you is over, for now."

She looked up. Iris didn't seem angry or judgmental—and she wasn't wearing one of those silly ritual masks. This might be official business, but maybe she was wrong to worry. "That's... good. I'm glad I'm safe."

Vale chuckled. "Don't mistake me, filly. We're all in terrible danger. Our ears in Canterlot listen, and what they hear is... danger. Celestia knows of the Lightless Star. We don't know how much she understands—whether she knows who we worship, or just thinks we're a strange group of extremists."

Twilight never said anything about the 'True Gods'. But maybe she didn't want to scare me. She didn't volunteer very much.

The mare was watching her expectantly. "She, uh—I don't know either."

Vale reached across the carriage, touching her on the shoulder. "I know they had you a full day for questioning, Firefly. We need to know anything you told them about us. I know you're probably afraid of the consequences right now, but know that they will be much worse if you lie to me. It is better to prepare for the danger than to be unable to expect or react when it arrives."

She should've known something like this would happen. Even if they thought she had been captured against her will, they would want to know what she said.

"I didn't tell them anything about where the Lightless Star hides," she began. “I don't... even know, really. Other than the old part of the mines. But Equestria was searching those anyway."

She explained what she had shared—the dangers of Willowbrook, and the various requirements to live safely in town. The places that might be friendly to Equestrians, and the ones they should avoid.

By the time she finished, they were a little way outside of town, on the same road she took when she was going to ride home with Lilac. "You made the... only wise choice I could imagine, in circumstances like yours," Iris said, when she was finished. "Enough to make them believe you were cooperative, without compromising your own safety.

"But know this, Firefly—Equestria has survived these many years with a veneer of friendship and kindness. They weave a careful net, erasing the true history while smoothing over what they can't hide. As friendly as they might've seemed to you, know that the one they work for is not.

"The one they call Princess Celestia—we call her the Great Usurper, Betrayer, Kinslayer. Do you know why?"

Firefly shook her head, avoiding Iris's eyes again.

"She killed you, once. Long ago, in memories lost to you and Lilac—you were there in the ancient days of Equus. You ruled the world in a golden kingdom of science and culture. She and her sister—destroyed it. Exiled your entire race, except for themselves. Not just fighting ponies, but mares and foals as well. She consigned them all to the void."

She leaned in, lifting Firefly's face with magic, forcing her to meet her eyes. "That terrible creature you saw—imagine what its home must be like. Imagine your friends and family trapped there, tormented forever. If she finds you here, Celestia will send you back without a thought, and without remorse.

"They may speak with you again, one day. When that comes, remember this conversation. Remember that our safety is your survival as well. Your only chance is to hope for our victory, so that one day you can rule in glory with your kin."

She snapped one hoof against the floor, and a servant appeared, opening the door for her.

Firefly hurried out. She stopped a few steps from the carriage, turning back as it started to roll forward again. "What about Lilac?” she asked, taking off and flying along it. "Is she coming back soon?"

Iris appeared by the window, watching her. Firefly thought she seemed sympathetic, or at least friendly. Maybe that was just another of the cult's lies. "Soon. Weather across the Strait was prohibitive of a Griffonstone expedition. They should return within the week."

Chapter 52: Hungry Dreams

Lilac would not have another chance to see Copper. They were arriving the next day—that was the entire point of the inspection. But if this was the last chance for her to ever talk to him, she had to work out a way to say goodbye.

Once she scribbled her farewell, she presented it to Saffron, lowering her head nervously. "Do you think there’s some way to make sure that Copper gets his hooves on this? I don't want to just vanish."

He landed atop the letter, staring down at it with disdain. "If you did not have commitments to the forest, I could help you disappear as well, if you wished it. But your banishment ends tomorrow, and so the grove waits for you." He flicked one hoof towards the air-grate. "I believe your friend will remember the way here, and attempt to visit again. Leave it out of sight for him to find.”

Of course—that was such an obvious solution, she should've thought of it herself. She'd spent so long trying to figure out new spells that she blinded herself to the more obvious, physical solutions to her problems.

She would have one last inglorious meeting with her tutor the following morning. She arrived with several angry bangs, rattling against the wood so loud it shook in its frame.

"Lady Lilac Vale. Open this door, we must have words."

She groaned, rolling out of bed. She still felt a little sore from the day before, but not in a bad way. Her first experience with love was a little like tasting magic for the first time—intoxicating, and addicting. How would she get it out of her mind now that she'd experienced it once?

She had done everything she could to clean up from her clandestine time in the engines, which basically meant shoving it all behind the vent for Copper to collect. Hopefully there was nothing left to give her away.

She opened the door, staring groggily up at Keen Focus. The mare looked exactly as she had the last time—sharply dressed, with an ever-sharper expression. The kind of glare that could cut steel.

"You look an absolute disaster, Lady. What happened to you?"

"I was barricaded in my room for over a week without food," she answered, glaring stubbornly back. "What do you think happened to me?"

She wasn't even pretending obedience anymore—why bother? This tutor had her threats, but they would be landing in Willowbrook soon. Could she even carry them out with Iris to protect her?

"If you think I'm going to mince words in my report to Lord Amaranth Vale, you're mistaken." She kicked the door shut behind her, circling around Lilac. "You've proven yourself to be—among the most intractable wretches I've ever had the misfortune of encountering. Frankly if you worked in his stables, I would still recommend he find alternate staff. You're unworthy to even set foot in his household."

Lilac stood up straight. She stopped slouching, and faced into the fury of this mare with as much confidence as her little body could summon.

The right thing to do was keep her head down, say nothing, and wait for her to leave. Let this mare rant and rave all she wanted—ultimately, she had no power over Lilac. As soon as she stepped off this ship, her domain ended.

The Lilac of two days ago would've done it. But the Lilac of today had spent a sleepless night tossing in her cot, hoping that Copper snuck back one last time, and not daring to risk reappearing below.

"You don't even know what I am," she said. She didn't scream or rave, not like this mare. That was reserved for ponies who needed to raise their voice to make themselves understood.

Keen Focus stopped right in front of her, sneering. "And what's that?"

She spoke in words that she had never heard; in a language no pony ear was meant to hear. "Songs that the Hyades shall sing, where flap the tatters of the king. Song of my soul, my voice is dead. Die thou unsung, as tears unshed."

Keen Focus's fury melted from her face. Her muscles slackened, and her mouth began to hang open. Her eyes seemed to focus on some distant point, far to the horizon. Lilac couldn't see it anymore, but she remembered.

The place where no living thing could ever grow, the place where time unraveled and space curved backwards. The place that had stolen a piece of her forever.

The unicorn's face twisted into a silent scream. Her pupils expanded until her eyes went almost black. Then she screamed, ear-splitting horror that echoed painfully in the room. She turned back the way she'd come, and blasted the door apart with a single flash from her horn.

It fell in smoking ruin onto the deck, leaving the empty hole Keen Focus had used to escape from her. Lilac dropped to one knee, feeling a sudden throbbing pain at the back of her skull. She reached up and felt blood trickling from her nose and mouth, dribbling faintly onto the deck beneath her.

Lilac straightened, then sponged it dry with one of the fine dresses she'd been given to wear.

"Careful," whispered a voice from over her shoulder. She recognized it without turning—there was no other so small, yet insistent. Saffron hovered behind her, putting her body between himself and the hallway.

"Power is a dangerous thing, Lilac Empathy. It comes from the bonds we tie, or tied to us against our will. We can pull against them, demanding strength flow as we require. But one force must always prevail. You float adrift, and cast your anchor upon an island. Tug upon the rope, and it seems as though you demand the land come at your decree. But it is not the island that moves."

She turned to look back at him—but found Saffron was gone. The single sapling she had cultured suddenly looked—shriveled. Its bright green stem withered to brown, and the leaves atop it fell away in autumn yellows and reds.

Lilac rose, stomping out the flames before they could grow beyond the remnants of Keen Focus's spell. Then she started packing. She couldn't feel the usual rocking of the ship in the currents of upper air. That could only mean one thing.

She rinsed away the slime of sleep in her mirror, and groomed her mane as she would have before her trip on the Magna Vale. She tied it back with a single retaining band—the kind that her tutor had told her were beneath the use of refined ponies like herself.

Aurum arrived himself a few minutes later, dressed in a crisp uniform. He stopped at the doorway, staring at the burning wreckage. "Oh. I see Miss Keen Focus... visited you as well?"

She rose from her desk, nodding towards him. "Do you know what's wrong with her? I've never seen a pony act so strangely before."

The captain stepped through the door, then levitated his cap off his head. "Afraid I have, Lady Lilac. Though I never imagined I might see it in friendly skies. I do not know how she could've been so afflicted while sailing in Equestria. What did she say to you?"

Before or after she tried to starve me? "Mostly just screaming," Lilac said. "She seemed really scared about something, but I don't know what. There was nothing in here."

He replaced his cap. "Then whatever madness had come upon her came before she reached your quarters. Troubling. I'll need to order my vessel stripped and searched. Best we get you to shore before that happens."

Lilac should be afraid, shouldn't she? Keen Focus might not understand the spell she used, but she would still know that Lilac had somehow been the cause. Somehow.

She felt no fear, or even guilt. Just satisfaction knowing that the one who had inflicted weeks of torture on her, then been willing to starve her had finally suffered what she deserved. How many other girls has she tortured like me? How much worse would she act if the trip kept going even longer?

Lilac stepped off the zeppelin, descending a landing ramp to the ground below. A familiar carriage was waiting, along with several carts of trade goods. As she watched, a hospital wagon arrived from the street, just in time to receive Keen Focus.

Several of the ship's burlier earth pony stallions had her between them, restrained with a tablecloth.

Both leaders of House Vale stood outside their carriage, watching. Lilac couldn't hear what was being said, but could see that her adoptive father was shouting, trying to get through to Keen Focus. He did not succeed.

Lilac tightened her saddlebags, walking with those deliberate, prim steps that Keen Focus had spent days drilling into her. She pretended not to see the hospital ponies emerge, with straitjacket waiting.

"Lord and Lady Vale," Captain Aurum said, saluting them both. "I'm afraid there is dire news to report. One of the passengers you sent with me appears to have gone completely star-mad."

Lord Vale loomed tall and imposing. He looked right through the stallion, and instead focused all his attention on Lilac. He knows it was my fault.

How could he? She'd barely stepped off the ship, and the captain was with her the entire time. She hadn't felt any sensing spells from him—what was happening?

"Star madness," Amaranth Vale repeated. "In Equestrian skies? Without affecting any of the other passengers?"

"Not to my knowledge," the captain said. "I recommend a thorough search of the entire vessel, starting with the mare's quarters. There may be some relic of forbidden magic aboard. The crew would be... much reassured by a few days in port to be sure of their safety."

"And our daughter?" Iris asked. She took a single step towards Lilac. Her eyes looked her over, searching for something? Was there some remnant of the spell lurking on her body, one she couldn't feel? I don't think that was even a spell.

She certainly didn't have the time to draw the runes and gather enough power to search herself. Or any idea what she would look for.

"That will be enough, Captain. Perform your search, and report back the instant you learn anything. I'll see the mare transferred to a more... discrete facility until she recovers."

The captain nodded politely to them both, returning up the ramp. A loading crew worked at the back of the ship, bringing down carts of goods. But nopony got close to their little group. They were practically in a bubble.

"That mare was meant to instruct you," Amaranth snapped, as soon as they were alone. "She should have spent her every waking moment in your company. There is no chance that some harm could've come to her and not you—unless you were the cause."

Lilac didn't meet his eyes, or keep up the same defiance she had used with Keen Focus. This stallion worked directly for Canterlot, somehow. His connections to the Lightless Star were unknown to her, just as any possible motivation for Iris to remain married to him.

"Forgive me, Father—" she began.

"Lord Vale," he corrected. "Forgive me Lord Vale."

"Lord Vale," she repeated. "Your tutor locked me in my quarters alone for the last week of our trip. She did not open the door a single time, not even to deliver food. I have not seen her until this morning, when she arrived at my door screaming like a madmare."

Iris's horn stopped glowing. "Every word of that is true, husband. Her belief is absolute."

Technically, everything she said was true. But would Iris have confirmed anything she said, even if it wasn't?

"That would be—uncharacteristic of her," Lord Vale said. Yet some of his confidence had deflated. Whatever surefire weapon he thought he held against Lilac, now it had a flaw. "I will inquire with the crew. If she did so... neglect her duties, and your welfare—it might suggest worsening madness on her own. If I can confirm your story."

He turned, striding up the ramp without so much as a farewell to his wife.

"Will he?" Iris asked, as soon as he was gone.

Lilac nodded. When she spoke, it was in a voice barely audible over the wind. "It's all true. But what happened to her—I did it. Somehow. I don't... know exactly how."

Iris didn't shout for the guards, or her husband. She just reached forward, embracing Lilac right there on the tarmac. She squeezed her hard against her chest, protective as any pony could. "I know."

Lilac's composure shattered, and she cried like an infant.

Chapter 53: Darkest Door

Iris Vale had plenty of contact with ponies on the edge of sanity. In some ways, this was expected of members of the Lightless Star. Even those with years of experience, who dealt only in the path of Wisdom, would eventually be exposed to secrets that strained the mind to see.

She got into the carriage with Lilac Empathy, expecting many of the same signs. Those whose eyes saw beyond the Gate, those who knew the Guardian of the Gate, had their perceptions altered in predictable ways.

Her daughter did not stumble as she walked, expecting a gravity that did not conform. Her eyes didn't lose focus, showing signs that she did not recognize the common objects in her world. The last and most painful sign was magical decay—once that began, it meant a painful death for the pony involved, despite all intervention.

Lilac settled into her seat on the far corner of the carriage, legs folded under her. Iris lit up her horn as she came in, brilliantly bright—but not with any spell. She just watched the filly's pupils contract. No sign of bodily decay.

"Your father wishes to remain with the ship for the next several hours, and evaluate what happened there," she said. "An unfortunate burden for the carriage-drivers, but I suppose this is why we pay them." She tapped on the wall, the one that led directly to the front. "We're ready. Take us home, please."

"I don't know what he'll find," Lilac lied. She wasn't very good at it—her eyes fixed directly on her own hooves, tail twitching nervously back and forth.

Iris concentrated, and this time cast a real spell—the pressure of silence, one that extended only to the carriage’s walls. Even the filly would recognize it immediately, as the sound of the road and jostling carriage supports faded away. "Let’s start with what we both know. Your exposure to the Void began when you tried to... scry, into the world you came from. Right?"

Lilac sat up. "When I succeeded at scrying into the world I came from. Kinda. Seeing the people there was hard, like they were out of focus. I mostly saw places I remember from living there."

Succeeded. She spoke with such confidence that Iris didn't doubt her, even without any kind of truth finding spell in operation. There was no reason to lie about that, when she spoke so openly about her mistakes. "Even that much would be an... incredible accomplishment," she began. "Don't take this as an endorsement. Your behavior endangered all of Willowbrook, not just your own life. Not even the Watcher has pierced the veil of Unreality that protects this world from the greater darkness beyond.

"We have spent a very long time searching for our gods. We hoped for your instructions to aid your return, rather than scrambling through the dark, constructing new magic on our own. You would not have to work so hard at your magic if we knew how to grant you a proper Alicorn's body. But that power is unknown by all, even the Watcher."

That was probably too much to give a little filly, even one with incredible magical potential. But instead of seeming overwhelmed or bored by what she heard, the child only looked thoughtful. This fit into her worldview, somehow. There was greater depth to that expression than Iris had ever seen from her.

Something happened on the Magna Vale, she thought. "I need you to tell me the truth," she began. "Did you try your scrying spell again on the ship? Did you speak to the Gate?"

"No!" Her reaction was instant and indignant. She wasn't avoiding looking at Iris when she spoke, either. That might just mean she got better at lying. Be cautious.

"I needed a low place, the spell I designed wouldn't work just anywhere. And Keen Focus didn't give me the free time to do anything I wanted. When I talked to her about magical study, she just laughed in my face. 'You're an earth pony, Lady Lilac. Your capacity does not include even rudimentary spellcasting. Your only role in this family is to conceive a unicorn child for a worthy heir, and prevent a lapse in House Vale. Aspire to nothing more.'"

Her impression was uncanny, enough that it made Iris chuckle. Yes, she could imagine the tutor speaking exactly those words. That went a long way of explaining Lilac's reaction to her.

If she thought only a low place would enable such magic, Iris would say nothing to disabuse her of the notion. Silence might not help much, even asking would probably inspire investigation. Her daughter would be a magical prodigy of rare skill, if she wasn't inheriting the knowledge of ancient gods.

"So what did happen? Is my husband going to find ritual magic all over your bedroom? I know you, Lilac—you wouldn't sit in your bedroom and stare wanly out the window. What trouble did you get into?"

That did it—the filly's ears folded back, and her face lit up. She lifted her tail, curling it around herself. She took over a full minute to say anything, with Iris staring at her without blinking.

"It was nothing magic," she finally said. "I didn't have any books, and most of what I want to do needs more work on the theoretical side. Also there aren't any trees, and it's hard to gather power when I'm up in the sky instead of a forest. So I... I... found a way to open the vent, and sneak down into the crew deck."

Whatever Vale was expecting, it wasn't that. She sat back, unable to keep up the stern appearance. Curiosity won over. "You went below, into the... engines? Why?"

"I wanted to learn about the airship," she said in a rush. "Anything to get away from Keen Focus, and her constant performances. Just lecturing me all day every day about how worthless earth ponies are, but how maybe I can make something of myself if I can manage to seduce a valuable enough stallion."

There's a cruel truth to that. Common ponies can be driven by love, instead of worrying about the consequences of their choices. But not us. Hearing that was not what this filly needed right now. If you get old enough that we start worrying about inheritance and succession, we did better than I could ever dream.

"So you hid with the crew?" she asked. "And they hid you, because you were my daughter. Didn't report you to Keen Focus, since she's a Canterlot type. All my crews are hired out of Willowbrook, they can see their own."

"I mean, kinda! I didn't exactly tell them who I was. I pretended to be part of the crew, and the unicorn kid who found me wasn't exactly digging for holes in my story." Then she stopped, looking away. "I shouldn't say who he was. He was doing his job. Had nothing to do with Keen Focus or any of that stuff."

Iris remained silent, watching her. That silence invited further speech from the little pony. "The captain said something I've never heard before. What is 'Starmad'?"

She could've refused to answer—but if she did, the filly would just find her own some other way. Probably distorted, out-of-focus half-truths, that might lead her down still darker roads.

"Magic suffuses all of Equus, a sea of great power. It is shaped by those creatures who dwell within it. The false gods, tyrants, and traitors—for all their evil, they are creatures of Order. They impose regularity on this sea, exerting a protective influence on all creatures. The further from Equestria you travel, and the higher you fly, the more vulnerable spellcasters become."

"Spellcasters," Lilac repeated. "You mean unicorns, though. I don't have any organ to sense or manipulate thaumic fields. So it shouldn't affect me, right?"

Iris reached across the carriage, taking one of her hooves. Their conversation had taken so long that she could already see familiar fields in the window. They were almost back to Vale Manor. "Lilac, I cannot even speculate. You looked into the face of an Unmade, and you're still able to speak with me. I thought you had escaped completely unscathed, except—Keen Focus."

The filly remained silent for a long time, staring back at her hooves. The nervous energy and barely suppressed eagerness were gone, replaced with shame. "She was yelling at me, this morning. Threatening all the things that Lord Vale would do to me as soon as we landed. Then I... felt something."

Her eyes snapped to the side, staring directly at an empty place on the wall. Except it obviously wasn't empty to her. "I can feel the place I saw into. She was right next to me, and I sorta just—shared what I saw."

Iris's horn glowed again, and with no simple illumination this time. It was a sensing spell so powerful that the filly would feel it itching on her skin. There was no subtle way to probe for something like this. She scoured her pattern at the most basic level, searching for damage.

She found none—no enfeebling rot. She found no decay in the filly's mind, either. Her sanity wasn't unraveling, but there was a thread. A connection trailed away from her in the exact direction she was looking, yet somehow down at the same time.

Iris turned in that direction, following it with all the expertness of her craft. It was a powerful thread, the kind that usually bound parent to child, or lovers.

Her concentration soon faltered, as the thread curved along axes that made no sense, through space filled with unknowable colors. The thread seemed to fracture to a thousand colors and shades, and looking directly at any of them burned right through her.

Lilac Empathy is bound to the void. She wouldn't be the only one to be able to see it—if any of Equestria's skilled unicorns saw her in this state, they would sense this connection. They would fear, perhaps rightly, what she could do with it.

"This wasn't here before," she whispered. Maybe she shouldn't have said it out loud, but once the words were out, there was very little she could do. "It happened when you cast your scrying spell, didn't it?"

She nodded. "It took something from me, the Unmade creature. It stole my name." She rested one hoof up against her head, shivering. "It should be there, I know it should. But it's missing."

Iris's breath caught in her throat. Her heart felt as though it slowed in her chest, struggling to beat. The Unmade hadn't erased this infant god, she knew that already. But it had taken a piece of her—enough that it could eventually take the rest, if they let it.

Her mind filled with everything she knew about sorcerers and their craft. There was so little to go off—that knowledge itself could be corrupting in a weak will. Iris was not weak, but she felt it a little now.

She dropped to one knee in front of the child, resting one hoof on her shoulder. She forced her to meet her eyes, using a few gentle prods from her magic. "Listen very closely, Lilac Empathy. I would never share this with you if I had another choice."

She waited for the filly's nod to continue. "You have a sympathetic connection to the void. It ripped out a piece of you, and took it back. If it was a piece of your hoof, we could chop it off. But it took something much harder to sever, a name."

Lilac started shaking, eyes welling up with tears. "W-what happens to me?"

"If we don't find a way to cut it?" She didn't look away, no matter how much the words hurt, no matter how much she wanted to. "You lose your mind, and your body starts to fail. At the end, the demon who marked you returns, and takes whatever's left."

The child melted under her touch. She cried, springing forward to embrace Iris. Little god or not, she was still a quivering child in need of comfort. This was heavier than most adult ponies knew how to handle, let alone children.

"W-what... what do we... do I—"

But if the filly wanted sensitivity, she shouldn't have peered beyond the Outer Gates. "I don't know," she whispered. "But I'll find a way." She held her against her chest for what felt like ages, until the carriage stopped rolling.

She couldn't hear the driver's voice, but she guessed he would have announced their location. He would probably be quite confused by her silence.

She remained still for a few seconds more. Then she let go. "For now, no more scrying spells. Never try to look past the Outer Gates again. And whatever you did to Keen Focus, don't do that either. No matter how tempting, no matter how much it calls to you, you can't look. The more you look, the more of you gets pulled across."

Chapter 54: United

Lilac lay sprawled on her bed, body limp and all the lights off.

She wasn't sure how long she had lain there since getting home—maybe minutes, maybe hours. The sun no longer glowed through the window to her left. Servants had brought suitcases of her belongings, unpacked them in her wardrobe, then left just as quickly.

How much could one little mare go through in a day? She'd been with a stallion for the first time in her life, and discovered that actually it wasn't something that should make her feel sick. Then she'd blasted a pony with dark magic, and discovered she could do it because her first big spell had actually poisoned her soul and she was doomed to die.

Eventually the stress became too much, and she just sorta gave up.

Lying here would not make any of her responsibilities go away. The Grove waited for her, with its fairy creatures increasingly agitated from her absence. Her friends would be worried about her, and there was the whole “dying” thing she should probably research. And of course there was Amaranth, whose research to the sorry state of Keen Focus might point back at Lilac any second now. Maybe an Equestrian police team would arrive to drag her away.

They didn't, though. For a long time, nopony at all did. She heard Iris shouting down the hall once, and servants brought a meal for her a little later. There was some talk of returning to Whispering Willow, but even that was quiet.

Were the ponies of House Vale afraid of her again? Had they forgotten everything she did to save Risk's life?

She should be with Copper right now, experiencing things that she craved to understand. She still wouldn't put on dresses for him, that was too much. Copper was not even capable of understanding the nightmares that tormented her, but he would probably still listen.

That was what she really needed, somepony to talk to.

Something knocked against her window. The sound was soft, quiet enough that she thought it might be a bird at first. Feathers tapping up against the glass, quiet but insistent.

That was an extremely determined bird—after a full minute of knocking, the sound grew louder. Maybe the poor creature was stuck.

She lifted her head from the pillows, and finally turned.

Charlie stood outside, balanced on the railing. She tapped with one wing, repeatedly sounding against the glass. She saw Lilac, and a goofy grin split her face.

She could barely even remember what this pony had been like, a world apart. But she was pretty sure Charlie made all the same silly faces that Firefly did. She just couldn't use her wings to be annoying, because she didn't have those.

Lilac wasn't feeling strong enough for this. She forced herself to get up anyway, rolling out of bed, sulking over to the window. "You just... flew over?" she asked, keeping her voice down. "Aren't you afraid the house guard will see you?"

"Vedette?" Firefly repeated. She hopped down off the fence, facing her through the glass. "You're joking. It's dark, he's probably already drinking by now. He wouldn't see me flying in unless I brushed his face with my wings on the way."

Lilac reached the door to her balcony, then stopped. She turned back the way she'd come, trotting to the bedroom door. She pushed it closed, then hopped up to push the lock into place.

Either of her parents could magic it open from the other side, but doing so would take a few moments of extra time. But that would be quite unusual for either of them—Iris was too respectful, and Amaranth had never visited her in the bedroom, not once.

Only when she had it shut did she cross back to the balcony. Her friend tapped one hoof impatiently, watching with annoyance. "Something wrong, Lilac?"

Was something wrong? Could she even narrow down the answer into a list that would make sense to her friend? At least she wouldn't lose her mind and forget their conversation.

"A f-few things." She pushed the door open. Tears streamed down her face, splattering onto the carpet. Since when was she so bad at controlling her emotions? How long had she hid her research from her adoptive family? Now here she was, bawling like a foal. "Y-yeah."

Firefly slipped inside, then wrapped a wing around her back. The pegasus always felt light against her, like she might blow away in a stiff breeze. Even so, the comfort she gave was genuine. She guided Lilac through the bedroom, over to her window seat. She joined her there amid the cushions and stuffed toys.

"You're growing out your mane?" she asked, oblivious. There was no trace of recognition in her face. This pegasus couldn't understand the pain she was in. She couldn't understand the damage she had done. One spell, one bucking spell, and she was dying.

"No." She pawed weakly at the cushions under her forelegs. "I had a tutor on the airship. She said my mane was too short, and threatened me if I—I cut it."

Charlie hopped down off the seat, pacing into Lilac's bathroom. She returned with a hairbrush and a pair of scissors. She jumped back up onto the bench, then curled up against her, shoving toys out of the way to make room.

Her old human self twitched in embarrassment at the closeness. No humans would do this, particularly boys. But she was neither of those things anymore. Hadn't she learned that, when a real boy was with her aboard the Magna Vale?

"Tell me what's bothering you," Firefly said. "I was going to tell you about what happened while you were gone, but it sounds like—maybe more happened to you than me. Do you want me to cut it how you had it?"

Lilac shook her head once. "N-no. I'm not sure what I want to do with it anymore"

Her friend nodded. She brushed Lilac's mane with her wing, dislodging the little cloth bands that held it in place. She had to brush it with her mouth, since neither of them were unicorns. Her friend didn't seem to notice the physical contact, or care.

Lilac wanted to feel uncomfortable, but that was a losing battle. The contact relaxed her, soothing away her discomfort in something simple and physical. "You'll never believe e-everything that happened," she finally said. She wasn't sure how long. "But you should know—my father is upset with me. You'll need to hide if he comes in."

Firefly nodded. "If that happens, I'll be gone before he can blink. Right out the window, a blur gone without a trace."

"Maybe a few traces." Lilac nudged something on the bench beside them—an orange feather, shed from the underside of her wings. If keeping a mane brushed was bad, doing that for two more organs would be so much worse.

She still resented not being a unicorn, considering all the amazing things she would be able to do with magic if she could use it natively. But at least she wasn't a pegasus.

"I stopped noticing those a few years back," Firefly admitted. "I think that's part of the reason pegasus ponies like living in clouds. You can't shed if it just falls right out of the floor. But my dad always keeps his room spotless, so I have to do the same." She picked up the brush again, and went back to what she was doing.

How much could Lilac tell her? "I know... I know I promised to get us home," she began. "When I dragged you here with me all those years ago, you were counting on me to reverse this. I know how much your old life matters to you. Your girlfriend, your career, everything."

With a brush in her mouth, Firefly didn't interrupt her. She just watched her seriously, never more than a few inches away. She could smell her fresh perfume, the slight fire of ozone around her. Pegasus magic, wild and powerful.

"I hurt myself scrying. I think you saw that—I told Iris about it. You wouldn't understand the magic, but the important thing..."

Firefly just watched, expectant. Waiting.

"If I can't stop it, I'll die. She doesn't know how, but she thinks there might be—" She was crying now. Even her own thoughts didn't make sense yet. But at least she had someone to listen.

Firefly wrapped one wing around her in another hug. "How do we treat it?" Her friend didn't argue, or press trying to understand things she was unqualified for.

"I don't know yet. Only how to not make it worse. I can't... do anything that would expose me. That means I have to put all my research on hold. All my planning, getting back to Earth—I don't think I can do it."

The pegasus dropped her brush. Her mouth opened and closed, as though she were trying to say something. She shook her head once, frustrated. "Y-you said it! The planet we came from, how did you do that?"

They had spent years with the same blocks on their minds. They were so ingrained that they believed it was something inherent to the way they'd come between worlds. It didn't stop them from thinking of an idea, just from saying or writing it. Except now she could.

"The force that stopped me is gone. I guess maybe the demon did that too. But that's not the important part, Firefly! Were you listening? I can't keep experimenting with magic to get us home. I have to put it on hold. Maybe for months, maybe for years—or maybe longer. I don't know."

Charlie watched her closely. She could probably read her emotions from scent alone, that was hard to hide when her feelings were this powerful. "When you were gone, the investigation team came to Willowbrook. I spent two days with them, helping."

Maybe Firefly saw the shock on Lilac's face, because she sped up, speaking faster and faster so she couldn't get interrupted. "It wasn't that bad, everypony scared of them blew it way out. Listen, they were smart. Their leader was a mare named Twilight Sparkle."

"Apprentice to Celestia herself," Lilac whispered, awed. "She was with you? You survived that?"

Firefly rolled her eyes. "Yes. They're not evil like everypony says. Lilac, I think the Lightless Star lies to us. I think they lie a lot, about everything. I think maybe... they tell us things to keep us close to them, dependent. But that's not what this is about.

"Equestria wants to find the pony who summoned that demon. They're going to keep hunting, so they can make Willowbrook safe from danger. But we can make Willowbrook safe ourselves.All you have to do is stop trying to make portals to our old home."

She hesitated, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "All we have to do is... accept what we both probably figured out a long time ago. There's no way back home. We're never seeing our old lives again. We have to move on, just like our loved ones probably moved on from us. Then Willowbrook isn't in danger."

The weight of those words bore more heavily on her than layers of makeup and dresses at Keen Focus's hooves. Admit that she could not return to Earth. "You want me to... give up on magic? Make it so my last years of research were for nothing?"

Firefly whimpered, avoiding her eyes. "I mean—only a little! You love magic. When we were still tall and weird, you seemed really interested in magic. You talked about it with more passion than you did about your doctor's office. You can keep learning it, just not the kind that makes portals back home. That way, Twilight doesn't need to hunt the sorcerer. Let me tell you, she's way off the trail. We give her no more leads, and Willowbrook is safe."

How was one mare supposed to deal with all this in a single day? Meet and give up her first love—learn she was dying—now give up on the only goal that had driven her last years of life?

While she struggled for an answer, someone else spoke. Or more precisely, it laughed. Tiny, high-pitched, and bitter. "Willowbrook, safe?" Saffron said. He landed on her shoulder, as always utterly unconcerned with the danger of his small size. "You think so? You summoned one Unmade by accident.What happens when your cult friends bring a whole civilization here on purpose?"

Chapter 56: Blood Offering

Lilac stared up at these two furious ponies. Here was Amaranth, looming over her with an armed pony, weapon ready. What did he expect to happen, that he thought he needed weapons?

"I don't know what happened to her," she repeated. It was the same lie she'd already told. But now that she fully understood her own powers, it was far less true. Though it was still close enough that she could probably fool a lie detector. She didn't know the exact effect. "I'm an earth pony, Lord Vale. I couldn't use dark magic on her even if I knew any."

The unicorn loomed over her, eyes full of doubt and fury. "That is such a simple explanation, isn't it? The earth pony isn't capable. Yet her mind is completely undamaged, except with regards to you. The crew saw you together a dozen times, they speak of your lessons in the smoking lounge and the mess. Captain Aurum remarked with her on your progress. Yet now, nothing."

Lilac stared back, defiant. What was she supposed to do, admit her magic to him? Amaranth was no member of the Lightless Star. He couldn't understand her, and had no desire to try.

She shook her head again. "Did the crew also tell you about the week she spent not visiting me? Did they tell you that my door was kept locked, and not even opened for food? Maybe whatever happened to her has something to do with that."

It was crossing the line. She already knew it when she said it—but she could only keep her mouth closed so well. She wasn't a god, no matter how much Lightless Star thought so.

"I would ask my wife to search you for magical corruption, if I believed I could trust her judgment. But Iris has shown herself entirely taken in by your act, filly. This is it—these are too many worrying signs. You are a danger to Equestria, one that Princess Celestia must understand."

Lilac caught one last look through the bathroom at the cracked linen-closet door, before something yanked on her, pulling her by her hooves. It was Amaranth's magic, dragging her towards the door. She slid without resistance, eyes wide with panic. "W-what?"

"I don't know if this will rate the intervention of the princess herself," he continued, as though he didn't even hear her. "She has many affairs of state to concern her time. But I will do everything necessary to see she is there to evaluate you. She will see when others don't."

Celestia. The thought of that name filled her with panic. More than her strange origins, there was now a sympathetic connection binding her to the Void, something that even Iris could see. If she could, than the princess everypony said would murder her on the spot certainly would.

"No!" Lilac drove her hooves into the ground, hard. Power flooded into her through the floorboards, wood bringing with it the strength of earth. Moss sprung up from under her, spreading from the edges of her hooves. Little white flowers bloomed there, expanding in fractals from where her hooves touched.

Despite no physical bonds between them, the stallion tugging her went flying off his hooves, smashing into her desk and snapping its fine wooden legs. It toppled sideways, taking books and bottles of ink with it.

"No," she repeated, turning in a slow circle. Her voice sounded lower than it should. It didn't just come from her, but the wind in the branches of a whole forest. Grass sprang from the cracks in the wood at her hooves, and thin vines crept up the walls. "I will not see her. I refuse."

Where had the strength come from? It was no weaker than when she faced down Keen Focus, only this time she didn't call to unseen, terrible places.

The forest was distant, yet within reach. Saffron was still here, along with a balcony covered in plants and flowers. The forests of Equestria would all come to her aid, if only she asked. She didn’t need to be a unicorn to use magic.

"How dare you!" Lord Vale stumbled to his feet, fine jacket stained by ink. He yanked free of pale green feelers trying to entrap him, albeit slowly. "You've revealed yourself now, sorcerer! Dark magic, in my own house!"

"It doesn't seem dark to me," Iris said. She stepped inside, walking calmly through the grass and growing flowers. They rose almost to her fetlocks now, yet none of them were trying to grab her. "Amaranth, look around you. That's earth pony magic. Some of the most powerful I've ever seen." She stopped not far from him, offering a hoof to help him stand.

He ignored her, stumbling forward on his own. "She attacked me, in my own house! Look at her destroying it, even now! It's completely out of control—she's a monster!"

He turned to the guard, expectant. "Iron Gate, grab her. We'll drag her unconscious to the carriage, if we have to. If she refuses to surrender, you may use your weapon."

Iris glowered at him. "You will not. Lilac Empathy is our daughter, Amaranth. You attacked her with magic, you know how young ponies can be. Defending herself was not an attack, and may not have even been under her control."

Iron Gate, though, didn't seem to care about what they were saying. He approached Lilac, blade raised in his magic. He might be a stallion, a full head taller than her, and fully armored—she faced him down anyway, glowering at his weapon.

"Downstairs," he said. "Please, Miss Vale. Down to the carriage. We'll just take a little ride to Canterlot."

"I will not go," she said flatly. "Now decide what to do."

He shoved up against her with an armored shoulder—then went sprawling backwards the other way, sliding along the wooden floor. As he touched down, vines wrapped around him, weaving through the little fasteners and clasps of his armor.

He started to fight, straining and tearing to free himself. “Let me go!" The sword faltered, then dropped to the floor as well. He was panicked, fighting to tear free.

Lilac smiled faintly—the guard might be muscular, but he didn't have the concentration to keep up a single levitation under stress.

"I don't know what's come over you, wife. Open your eyes! My house is under attack! All these years, it was no child you let through my doors, but a monster! She's running completely amok! Guards! Guards, we need everypony in here! Sound the alarm!"

I can't keep this up for long. Even a few of the house's real soldiers would make short work of her. Earth ponies could stop landslides, but all they had to do was get her hooves off the ground, and she'd be as defeated as any of the children of Gaia that Hercules had fought.

"Your house," Iris repeated, standing calmly beside him. Amaranth rushed to the aid of his guard, struggling to tear him free from the strangling vines. "Amaranth, can't you see? Lilac is our daughter. Her powers are rare and beautiful. We can't bring them to Canterlot, or risk some cruel pony without understanding destroying her."

He stopped pulling on Iron Gate, roaring with frustration. His horn flashed, and he severed a few bits of little green vine. The spell was inexpert, singing the floor underneath, and bleeding most of its energy as light. It made him pant with effort, raging.

"Guards! Guards, we need you!" He yelled again, louder. "Where in Celestia's name are you? I'm under attack in my own house!" Finally he reached the sword, lifting it in his magic. He kept it right in front of him—not some vague gesture, or weapon he was holding nearby.

He advanced on Lilac. "I'm not asking again, demon! Surrender now, and I will take you to Canterlot for evaluation. Perhaps you can even be saved, if there's something of a normal pony buried in you somewhere."

Lilac glared back, defiant. "Or what?"

The answer was a surge of sudden violence, one so outrageous she hadn't imagined he would actually do it. Amaranth swung the sword, slicing down directly for her neck. It came so fast that she couldn't react, not even to roll out of the way.

The blade hit, and she felt a brief moment of pain. Not much—less than a papercut, really. Much less than the terrible burns she took when she encountered a spirit of flame. Those scars remained forever etched on her coat, with little fur growing there even after years to heal.

The blade shattered, hot metal spraying away from her and all over Amaranth. He screamed, flesh searing with the heat, and dropped from the shock. Blood seeped from a dozen little wounds—none of them life threatening, but all painful.

"G-guards!" he yelled. His voice was hoarse, catching in his throat this time. "W-where are you?"

The broken sword lifted into the air, glowing with a different color now. Only a thin line of steel remained, glowing faintly red from the impact. "They aren't here," Iris whispered. She stood over him now; had she teleported to cross the room so fast? "This is house Vale,Amaranth. Whose staff do you think they are?"

She glanced across the room, to where one was completely buried in vines at this point. Lilac couldn't even see a face through all that.

"What are you doing?" Amaranth asked. He looked between them, eyes wide with terror. Enough blood dribbled from his face that he was almost blind.

"I act for the honor of the True Gods," Iris whispered, so quiet that Lilac barely heard.

He froze. Even greater horror spread across his face. "Y-you're one of them? That evil cult, festering in Willowbrook? That was supposed to be the domain of the common ponies. The lunatics who want to dethrone Celestia!"

She nodded once. "And you tried to murder my daughter." The jagged knife zipped down towards him, slicing across his throat in a neat line. Iris stepped to the side, blocking Lilac's view of what followed. But she heard the desperate gasping anyway.

There could be no mistake about what was happening.

"I would have made you forget, as I've done so many times before," Iris whispered. She bent down, holding the stallion's head like she was cradling a frightened foal. He struggled, kicking out in vain with his limbs. None did anything to her.

"But you attacked my child, in my home. You can't have her. Celestia can't have her. The Watcher can't have her."

A few seconds longer, and Amaranth stopped struggling. He fell lifeless to the floor. Lilac felt the life flee him, with those same senses that intuned her with the trees and flowers.

Should she feel... horrified? Relieved? Even satisfied, that someone who had just tried to kill her was dead himself?

She felt only emptiness and confusion.

Iris stepped back, retreating slowly from the corpse. She reached Lilac, then wrapped one hoof around her, squeezing her tight. Lilac squeezed back. She whimpered, and tears welled up.

It hurt, yet—the pain came mostly from confusion. A guard still struggled to escape, his voice muffled, vines straining. With Lilac's focus broken, he would probably tear himself free soon. "W-what... what do we do?" she whispered, terrified. "Mom?"

"This is bigger than any of us," Iris whispered back, staring down at the limp body. Grass and moss covered the spreading pool of blood from around his throat, and the damp dagger resting there.

"You may not have known—Amaranth was the constable of Willowbrook. By manipulating him, I shielded the Lightless Star from Celestia's eyes, led him down false trails, and kept our brothers and sisters in safety. His death is..." She sniffed, wiping the tears from her face. "A tremendous setback. I must consult the Watcher."

Lilac nodded once. "Before we do, there's something—" She pointed across the room, towards the linen closet. "My best friend Firefly is in the closet. Can she go home?"

Chapter 57: Camping

"Even if perfectly accomplished, this destruction will turn Equestria's eyes further towards Willowbrook," someone said to Iris, from behind a complete facemask and robe.

They spoke with authority and conviction, and provoked only obedience from her mother. Lilac had no illusions about how a fight with those three would go, and so she did not even try.

"As the actions were yours, the Watcher decrees the harm will be yours also. House Vale will burn. If the Lightless Star survives the storm gathering on our horizon, he orders it rebuilt into the new center, to replace the one destroyed by the tantrum of our ancient gods. So speaks the interpreter of divine will."

"And so we listen," Iris answered, bowing in supplication.

Lilac overheard bits and pieces of what came next—what Iris would save from the house, and what would be left to burn to make the wreckage convincing. The cult would not allow her very much, though they did agree to start the fire at the far end, and allow Willowbrook's fire crew to arrive just in time to spare the library.

"I need you to hide for a few days," Iris told her, deep in thought. "Gather anything you love from your room, so long as you can fit it in your saddlebags. Then... I'm not certain where to send you—"

Lilac pointed straight out the window, up at the distant mountain. "Snowdrop Mountain," she said. "Equestrian search teams could circle the skies, they won't find me there."

The mare's eyes widened. "Snowdrop Mountain," she repeated, baffled. "The domain of breezies? It's true Equestria couldn't find you, but only because nopony would. You can't risk offending them, out of the question."

"I... know this probably isn't a good time to tell you," she whispered. "But they won't be bothered, unless maybe I don't visit. They've been tutoring me in magic for years—they'll protect me, they won't harm me. I could probably persuade them to hide you too, if you don't mind being small."

Iris shook her head sharply. “Did you just say--the breezies? You’ve been studying with them?” Lilac opened her mouth to answer, but her mother stopped her. “Wait, don’t explain now. No time. When you return, we can discuss this. As for me--I have another role to play in all this. I have to be a bereaved widow. And you—you were away on a camping trip to Snowdrop Mountain, with your good friend Little Risk. Weren't you?"

After a few minutes of hasty packing, she was. There was thankfully little to bring from her bedroom. Still enough to keep her there for the moment that house guards arrived to cut Iron Gate free, and drag him screaming through the house. Only Celestia knew what would happen to that poor soul.

She took everything referencing her own spellcasting, she took her diary, along with a few jackets and cloaks. She left every single one of the dresses, skirts, and other frilly pink crap hanging from the wardrobe untouched.

A few minutes later, she found Little Risk waiting by the back door. He lit up as he saw her, grinning so broadly that she almost forgot about how truly awful her last 24 hours had gone. Almost.

He wore a fine stitched traveling cloak over saddlebags packed far better for the trip than she was. There was an actual bedroll hanging off his back, along with a few large pitchers of water. He was actually ready to spend the night out in the woods. At least they would look convincing if anypony talked to them.

"Hey, Lilac. How was your time in the air?" She reached him, then hugged him as tightly as she dared.

Yes, there was that stallion smell she had learned only recently. No engine grease this time though—Risk smelled like books, and uncast spells. Like electricity and ink.

"Oh. Not good then?"

She nodded. "Nopony told you?"

He was silent for a few seconds, watching her. Maybe he was surprised by the level of physical contact, when she had previously been so averse to getting close. "I got the strangest orders from my father. He handed me this saddlebag, and said that we had been camping together for two days. I would follow where you told me, and stay there until you said. You have any idea why?"

She said little until they were on the road. As they left, the flurry of activity in Vale Manner intensified. Servants rushed about, doing things she could only imagine. Whatever it was, they didn't have much time to get it done.

"You're loyal to House Vale, aren't you?" she asked, as soon as they were on the road. This one led between Vale's own farms. Though it was strange to be walking it in darkness.

Risk lit his horn, but she shook her head, hissing under her breath. "No light. Ponies can't see us." She pulled her own dark cloak tighter about herself, then sped into a trot.

In testament to Risk's greater strength and practice, he managed to keep pace with her. But she wasn't galloping—that would be obvious too. "Of course I am," he said. "I'd do anything to protect you, Lilac. You know that. I'd go with you into a weird mine, or camping at the middle of the night. Camping where?"

"Mt. Snowdrop,” she answered. "To the Grove."

He slouched. "Oh. Firefly's meeting us, then?"

"No. Firefly flew right home after it happened. I'm pretty sure she saw, but she'll keep quiet. The Lightless Star will probably give her father different instructions to keep her from Equestria's eyes."

That got his attention. Risk sped up, enough that he could look back at her, meeting her eyes directly. "Something happened?"

"It's about to," she said flatly. "I could tell you more, but you have to—it's safer for you if you know less. You can't get interrogated about things I didn't tell you." A shiver passed through her, from her head all the way to her tail.

I saw somepony die. Or she'd heard it, anyway. It was at least partially her fault. All this because she didn't just let Keen Focus punish her. Or traced back a little further— "This is all my fault," she eventually said. "Everything bad that's happening is because of what I did in the mines. I cursed all of Willowbrook. I'm not sure when we'll be finished picking up the pieces."

He was silent for a long time, at least until they reached the edge of the fence, and passed up onto the hill. As soon as they were into the trees, he lit his horn again, a deep red this time. This spell was meant to restrict its light to a limited area. They shouldn't be visible for very far.

"I'd do anything for you," he said, his voice only a little nervous. "But are you sure the Good Folk will let me? The breezies never seemed as fond of me as you and Firefly. I'll go if you ask, but this seems like a bad idea."

"I'll protect you." The trees were too close to trot, the trail too narrow. So she slowed to a walk, slow enough to brush against his shoulder. "Just watch your step when we get there. Don't step on anyone sleeping in the flowers for the first few minutes. It won't be a problem after that."

A second later, she saw the flash of orange from behind her, and turned to watch. House Vale was an old and storied manor, its wood as ancient as Willowbrook itself. It burned with heat and vigor, bright orange and yellow staining the night.

Risk gasped, staring horrified back the way they'd come. "Lilac, your house is burning! We have to get back, we have to help—"

She grabbed him by the shoulder, holding him in place. "No, Risk. That's an accident, but it isn't an accident. I knew it was coming."

His mouth opened and closed several times, struggling to form words. After failing for a few minutes, he just gave up, watching the fire with her.

She saw the moment the flames reached her balcony, and her garden of flowers burned. She felt them die, though she wasn't there to see. The pain was almost worse than when Amaranth fell. At least those flowers hadn't tried to kill her.

"I'm sorry," Risk whispered. "I don't know why this is happening, but... there must be good reasons. Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head tearfully. "Just keep me company until my mother comes for us. Don't complain about living with the breezies. She says it's really important that nobody can find us no matter what. If we really want to hide, we have to do it their way."

"Right." He swallowed, nodding weakly. "Is there anything you can tell me?"

She nodded, but didn't elaborate. For a few more minutes, she watched her home burn, flickering orange and yellow in the trees. She could make out distant voices, calling out for help. Yet nothing dulled the flames, not as they spread through the old mansion.

Her only home in Equestria burned before her eyes. With it went her comfort, and any chance she had of returning to the old one. The flames burned fiercely indeed that night.

At least she had someone to lean on. Little Risk was taller than she was now. Not only that, but he had spent his entire childhood in the same house. He would understand her pain. She even caught him crying silently for a bit there, just as she did.

This death was not hers alone to bear.

Finally she stood again, wiping the tears from her eyes. She shook herself out, and Risk did the same. "It's getting cold, and I... haven't slept in a few days. Let's hurry, I want a roof over my head before I collapse."

Risk followed without objection, though there was doubt on his face. "I have a tent... I've never set it up, but I know it has room for two. We could set it up here, and keep going to the breezies tomorrow morning. They can't offer you shelter."

A tent, a warm sleeping bag, and some company she could trust—it was all a tempting offer. She might've accepted it, were it not for her obligations to the Grove. She had been gone for weeks, and now she arrived at their doorstep begging for refuge.

"I think they'll be happier with me if I go straight there," she said. "Even if I'm too tired to work for them tonight, it shows commitment to my responsibilities." And I brought a hostage, she privately added. They'll feel confident manipulating me with you there.

Distances on Snowdrop Mountain were always hard to gauge, even more so by night. One moment they were walking, and the next they had already arrived.

She would've known it even if she were blind, from the revitalizing magic that suffused the place. Standing here lifted the weight from her shoulders, and eased her aching muscles. Not as much as real sleep, but it was close.

Of course she wasn't blind, she couldn't miss the thousands of glowing flowers. They came in cool shades, blues and greens and purples. Most were short, but some rose all the way to her waist. Toadstools dotted the ground beneath them, converted into little homes. But the more important Folk all nested in the trees. Lights glowed from their windows, like a modern city by night.

It resembled a sleeping city more than some busy Earth capital, though. There were few bugs flying through the air this late. Those that were gave them a wide berth.

Lilac guided him towards the center, following the smells to keep from treading on dangerous ground. There was a passage kept clear for creatures their size, and no protection promised to anyone who strayed from it.

Of course, there was nothing visible to mark it, just the nectar from a few flowers. But Lilac had long-since mastered their smell.

"Back again, apprentice," said a voice, alighting on the edge of a nearby fern. Saffron, looking incredibly disapproving. "Quite a day you've had. Prices paid to the Unmade, cascading series of failures. Have you learned your lesson?"

Another test, even now. She could not lie. "I am learning," she answered, her voice exhausted. "Please, master. A place of safety for the next few days? We must hide together."

"Hide together," he repeated. "And labor. Yes. Worth it just to see his face. Come inside from the cold, apprentice. You look awful."

"I feel it," she whispered, tears welling up all over again. "Thank you."

Chapter 58: Foul Wind

Firefly should’ve flown directly home, cutting across Willowbrook with all the speed her body could muster. She knew thanks to her time with Rainbow that she could move with speed that other ponies could scarcely even see, avoiding terrible conditions in the air.

Instead, she went all the way to the clouds, and drifted along barely faster than the breeze. The air on her feathers spoke to her of worsening conditions—of a growing storm in the distance. By this time tomorrow, there might be flash flooding in the city below, or maybe even hail. Willowbrook didn't have the weather crews to head off difficult conditions—all they could do was brace for the storm.

Firefly had a hard time caring about that. She still felt dazed from what she'd seen—an explosion of plant life, a bloody corpse wrapped in vines. The bathroom closet hadn't given her the best view, or much chance of overhearing what was said. At least it wouldn't have, if Amaranth hadn't spent most of his final moments screaming.

She knew little about Equestrian politics, even less than Lilac. But even Firefly knew that the confrontation would have terrible fallout for all of Willowbrook. Amaranth Vale was a member of Celestia's own court. Manipulating him was key to keeping the crown from coming down on her town, somehow.

I should've told Twilight more about the cult. I should've told her who I really am. The Lightless Star had been wrong about how Equestrians treated her. They didn't discover the truth about her, and they didn't murder her. She had a hard time believing any of the visiting investigators were even capable of murder.

But Iris Vale was. She saw the bloody knife herself, before saying goodbye to Lilac.

“You both need to keep your heads down for the next few days,” Iris had said, before sending her off. “Equestria will react, I don't know how. Don't give them any reason to notice you.”

She didn't even get to hug her friend before she was out the window, and flying home. What would Dusty think about all this? Would he think this was her choice somehow, like when she'd helped Lilac with the scrying spell? Her adoptive father was patient and forgiving, but his tolerance would eventually run out.

She lingered near the cliffs, as she passed River Breeze's cloud house. She could fly in and ask to stay the night. River's parents liked her for being such a good flying tutor to their daughter, they wouldn't mind at all. But she couldn't just vanish on her dad, not with news of the chaos in House Vale bound to spread across town.

She flew slow enough that she almost missed another set of wings trailing near her. The pony keeping pace wasn't a pegasus, and didn't make half as much noise. But Firefly felt the disruption in the air, and turned anyway.

Velvet waved, meeting her in the air for a brief hug. “Firefly! What are you doing moping around up here?”

Firefly pushed her away, glaring. “I'm not moping, I'm just—” She stopped herself abruptly. She couldn't tell anyone where she'd been, or what she saw. Amaranth had attacked Lilac, and died for it. Sharing what she knew would only put her best friend at greater risk.

She turned her back on Velvet Moon, arcing over the wispy strands of cloud and gathering them in front of her, until she had a little island under her hooves. She settled onto her haunches there, overlooking the town. “I just don't feel good.”

“Oh.” The cloud shifted a few moments later, as Velvet joined her there. She sat close, the way ponies always did. Human standards of personal space were a nearly-forgotten relic for her by now. “Me too.”

She shrugged. Charlie scanned the town below, until she found her home. Even at this distance, her eyes were sharp enough to pick out the lights on the top floor. All on, which meant Dusty was home. Firefly's absence wouldn't be that strange right now—but as the sun set and nightfall descended, he would start to worry.

Firefly was so consumed in her own moping that she hadn't even looked at her friend. But now she did. The batpony's wings sagged, and her huge ears folded back almost completely. What could be bothering her?

She wrapped one wing around her. “Sorry I haven't got to spend time with you lately. I... ever since I got really into weather and flying, it feels like we spend less and less time together. That's not fair. I'm sure you'd do weather stuff with the rest of us if you could.”

The bat nodded. “It seems like fun! But thestral wings don't work the same as yours. Bats can't even do the fancy acrobatics you do in the air.” She opened one wing. “The membrane isn't strong enough.”

Firefly shouldn't be up here chatting with a childhood friend, not now. She fidgeted in place, eyes still fixed on the lights of her distant apartment. The usual clear smells of upper air were soon joined by something else—smoke.

“We'll have to do something together soon,” she said. “With River and Sunbeam too. Maybe when this next storm is over.”

“You mean Vale?” Velvet asked.

“No, there's another storm coming. Like a few weeks—” She turned, and finally looked at her friend. “What storm did you hear about Vale?”

“It's, uh—look!” She pointed with her wing, off into the country behind them. Flickers of orange rose from the building, along with a line of black smoke.

Accelerant, she thought. They lit their own house on fire. “Celestia, it's on fire!” Was she a better actress than Velvet? Probably not. “Somepony should tell the weather ponies! They might be able to get some rain together to put that out.”

Velvet shook her head once. “With a sky of altocumulus? The water won't reach the ground.”

Firefly nodded absently. Velvet was right, the puffs of higher cloudlets would take time to gather, and even longer to bring low enough to make rain. The bat was selling her weather knowledge short.

“Should we tell someone else?” Firefly asked, a little more hesitantly. “The fire brigade can get a carriage out there.”

The bat shook her head. “If we see it, half of Willowbrook is watching too. You already got foalnaped by Equestria once, do you want them to interrogate you again?”

Another good point, even if it came buried in a lie. Anything connecting her to the fire growing in House Vale would give any investigation that came after reasons to look into her, and her friends, and the truth of her origin.

Unless the Lightless Star were all lying, and Equestria wouldn't hurt her. Shame the stakes of that truth were so high.

“I guess I should go home then, keep my head down,” Firefly said. She spread both her wings, then kicked at the cloud she'd made. It dissolved in an instant, plunging her into the air. Her friend struggled for a second to catch herself, but Firefly barely noticed.

“Are you ever gonna tell me about what happened in that mine?” Velvet asked. “Risk said you were gonna invite me, but you must've asked somepony else.”

Firefly's face warmed. She hadn't made a terribly practical choice during that adventure, choosing to bring another young mare based on her looks, instead of the friend whose natural talents would actually help in dark, enclosed spaces.

“You dodged a bullet there, Velvet. That trip was an absolute nightmare. I wish I hadn't gone either.”

The bat watched her, confusion growing on her face. “What's a bullet?”

“Nevermind.” Firefly was just surprised she'd got away with that one. Trying to think of her name still made her face scrunch with pain, so it wasn't like the spell was gone for her. Not like Lilac. “It was awful, okay? Like really, really awful. Lilac's magic went so haywire that Risk and River's brains got fried. They don't even remember it.” She turned back towards the clouds again, and River's house.

She still needed to do something to make it up to the young mare. So much for a romantic adventure into ancient magic and amazing places.

“But not yours, right? What happened?”

On any other day, Firefly would've just brushed her off. But she was already stretched to the edge of her restraint. “Lilac tried some really dangerous magic and it backfired. It summoned something, and we blew it up with dynamite to stop it from getting out.”

Even speaking about the Derek Ashsen made her stomach turn. Every sensation she remembered from that creature felt wrong. Much worse than someone's hoof moving against the grain of her fur, or metal on a chalkboard. It was every missed note and bad smell and ungroomed feather all in one.

“I think you made them angry—” Velvet said. “Or she did. Do you have anywhere—you could hide? If you had to. Next time something bad happens?”

Since when was her friend so insightful? Firefly shook her head. “Lilac does, but I don't have anywhere specific. I guess I could go up into the Cumulus Maze... there are sometimes some cloud buildings so big they just pass right over the Gyre, then continue back into Equestria. It happens so often that no one would bother investigating them. They'd have to search hundreds of different clouds to find the one that still had a building on it.”

“That's a good idea,” Velvet said. She glanced back at the fire, then at Firefly again. “If you think anypony would be mad at you, you should probably hide for a while, until the smoke clears. I'm sure your dad would understand.”

Until the smoke cleared. That had painful meaning just now, while the largest and grandest manor in all of Willowbrook burned to ash. How many afternoons she'd spent playing there with Lilac, and now it would be ashes.

“Maybe. But I shouldn't just hide in the clouds. And I can't run away from Willowbrook—this is my home! Lilac is here, and River, and all my other friends! I know you—” She lowered her voice, hoping she didn't sound too harsh. “I know you don't have any parents, Velvet. I'm sorry about that, really! But I couldn't leave mine behind. Dusty took me in when I had nowhere, and he's stuck by me no matter how much trouble I caused. I'm not just gonna run away because I got myself in some trouble.”

Firefly could understand plainly how a pony like Velvet Moon could recommend hiding—without a family of her own, why shouldn't she run and hide for a few weeks if something spooked her? Equestria was a safer place than the old world had been, but not that much safer. There were plenty of dark forces in Willowbrook that would take advantage of a young filly on her own, if they could.

“Just think about it, okay?” Velvet asked, floating over to her for another quick hug. Firefly felt moisture on her coat as she did so. Even a gentle reminder of her situation was too much for the young mare. “I don't want anything to happen to you! And Willowbrook is so dangerous right now, hiding just feels like the best option.”

Then she dropped, so fast that Firefly struggled to find her against the darkness. “Velvet Moon?!” she yelled, standing tall. “Don't go!” But she didn't reappear. Willowbrook was a blur of activity beneath her, with ponies emerging to look towards Vale. From the ground they wouldn't see the flames, only the thickening band of smoke against the sunset sky.

Her friend was gone too soon to interrogate. What had her so worried for Firefly that she begged her to run away? Not badly enough that she wanted to go with me. If River asked something like that, saying no would be much harder.

Guess I should go home, she thought. She didn't fly straight there across town, not when that might still suggest her origin to a clever pony who happened to see her. Instead she continued at altitude, until she was directly over the apartment. She waited a little longer, until darkness had fully set in.

Even the lights of her top-floor suite went out, leaving only a faint glow emerging from the windows.

Firefly had to fly especially slow in the dark. There was little moonlight, and even less than there should be thanks to the smoke. She bumped a wing on the railing in the gloom, but still managed to land securely. She brushed her mane with a hoof, or what little had grown back so far. Hopefully there wasn't much ash stuck in there.

Then she opened the sliding door and stepped into the darkness. Her eyes did even worse inside than out, and she fumbled against the wall until she reached the switch. She twisted, and the gas-lamp grew into a steady warmth.

Four ponies waited inside, spread around her room. Three were strangers, wearing the white masks and dark robes of the Lightless Star. The forth was familiar—her father, wearing the same outfit, right down to the mask. He pushed the balcony door gently closed, and latched the lock across.

“Welcome back, Firefly,” he said.

Chapter 59: Crowning Achievement

Firefly stood at the center of four cultists. Mercifully her father was the only one behind her. Though it was hard not to feel at least a little fear of him too, given the similar mask and robes.

“I have long yearned to make your honored acquaintance, great one,” said another cultist, stepping forward from their ranks. A unicorn with a dark-colored horn and yellow eyes. She couldn't see any more detail through the robes. “Call me Ether Lens. And you are Firefly, yes? The unborn god.”

She nodded weakly. Firefly spun in a slow circle, taking them all in. None of these cultists wore weapons. Aside from her father, she counted one member of each tribe. That pegasus with the black and gray wings was the leader of the junior weather ponies, Murus!

But Firefly needed no instruction in the religion to realize that breaking their anonymity was a bad idea. Otherwise, why would they all dress like this? “I'm Firefly,” she finally said. “I have been... told, that I am one of the True Gods of Equestria. But my memory is weak.”

“The time has come for your elevation, great one,” said Ether Lens. He dropped into a bow, joined by his companions. Even Dusty, though there was something sluggish and reluctant from him. “We have emptied this structure so that no unworthy eyes will behold this sacred moment. We alone witness the true birth of a God.”

“I don't understand.” She stepped cautiously down from the balcony and into her bedroom. She shuddered with discomfort at the thought of so many strangers in her private space—had they gone through her diaries, digging up all her embarrassing secrets? Why did that bother her so much more than the idea of Rainbow reading it?

The lights from the apartment beyond were out, but flickering orange candle-flames glowed through the open doorway. Her home was filled with strange smells, an otherworldly perfume of nameless herbs. “Isn't now... kinda a bad time? I think Vale Manor is burning down.”

“I'm the wrong one to explain these things to you, unborn god,” whispered Ether Lens. He stood, along with the other two cultists, and her father. “The Watcher will perform the ritual. I'm sure he would be honored to reveal whatever mysteries you require.”

“I am... honored to serve at your hooves,” her father said. “When the true gods return to Equestria. I hope I played some role worth remembering.”

His pronouncement of faith used the same language Firefly had heard her whole life. But he sounded as glum as a prisoner preparing for execution. From behind his mask, his eyes looked anywhere but at her. The sick feeling in her chest grew stronger, and she nearly turned to flee right out the window. There was only one pegasus among the witnesses in front of her, would they be able to keep up? Would her father chase her too?

Maybe she should've gone with Lilac after all, be damned what any Equestrian investigation thought. Instead, Firefly stepped forward, following Ether Lens. “Where are we going? Cyan Mines?”

“No,” Ether Lens said. “To call forth your brothers and sisters, your wisdom may lead you there. But your elevation doesn't require any specific location. We will do it here.”

Around the corner, she found her living room had been entirely cleared of Dusty's furniture collection, leaving only torn carpets and the occasional old stain. A great circle had been drawn into the carpet with thick oil paint, forming complex designs she only recognized thanks to her time with Lilac. It was a runic spell diagram, though she could make no sense of what it actually meant. Hundreds of candles surrounded the circle, and five crystal pillars were arranged at points along the outside. Each one had a chunk of... something resting on it.

Her eyes strained, glazing over and around while failing to settle on any. They weren't just black—they erased the light coming nearby, giving them no detail, no depth. A faint current of air trailed towards each one, lifting her feathers slightly in ways only an experienced pegasus would feel. There was a power here not even Lilac's scrying spell had let her glimpse. Her friend might be passionate and gifted, but whoever created this was a genius.

Other than the ritual objects, the room contained only a small cloth tent opposite the ritual area, with rich purple and gold fabric like the palisade of a king. A shape rested within, obscured by overlapping layers of thin lace.

Her guides took her around the ritual circle, and brought her directly before the pavilion, until she stood on a velvet carpet at the front. This close, the source of the strange smell was much clearer to her. Spices wafted out from inside, not the spell-diagram. They reminded her of a memory she'd almost forgotten.

It came to her in a rush—that was the chemical smell she remembered from inside a morgue, when she identified the body of a biker-friend after a crash.

“You stand before the Watcher,” Ether Lens said. “You need not bow before him, as he is the servant of your kind. Even so, you should show him respect. He is the greatest and oldest of your servants, honored greater than all. Without his intelligence and skill, you would never have returned to your homeland. Without him, you will never retake your throne. Do you understand?”

Firefly nodded. She shifted awkwardly on her hooves, almost a bow. Her wings opened to either side, and refused to close. The air felt electric, even more than the storm she sensed outside. Whatever hurricane was brewing in here would not take until tomorrow to arrive.

A horn began to glow from inside the pavilion, and a figure lifted into the air. Firefly saw it, and at first she couldn't even tell what she was looking at. A smaller stallion, without a single part of their coat visible through white robes. A black mask covered his face. She saw the glitter of eyes through the slits, as reflective as glass. Or maybe they were glass, with strange shapes and facets that warped the light within.

Only the bony horn was visible above the mask, stark white and unnaturally thin. “One who is Charlie,” he said. His voice was thin and reedy, barely more than a whisper. “Concealed with the name that is Firefly. Long have I waited for this meeting.”

He stopped just behind the lacy veil, close enough that she could see his mask in more detail. It wasn't a simple face suggestion, but covered in hundreds of intricate lines, connecting tiny gemstones set into the mask. Each one glowed, like a field of angry stars.

“I am, uh... I'm honored,” she said, without looking at him. The smell was so much stronger when he got close. Did he swim in a spice-cabinet?

He inclined his head in a slight nod, but nothing more. He didn't move his body when doing it, but levitated himself at a slightly lower angle. Why haven't unicorns thought of flying like this before? If Risk is so much better for Lilac than I am, maybe he should fly too.

“I do not expect you to understand the significance of present events, banished and unthroned. Yet soon you will. As you see before you, we have prepared a powerful ritual, one we believe will unlock the magic locked away. No longer will you be confined as a single tribe, stripped of your other magics. Though I understand your grasp of pegasus knowledge is exceptional, just as Lilac's earth pony magic is without peer.”

He spoke so unnaturally too, never pausing, just rambling on and on so much she almost missed what he was really saying. This was the day of her ascension, giving her the magic of the other tribes? It felt like there was something missing here, though she couldn't put her hoof on why.

Lilac wasn't just good with plants, she would be able to look at that diagram and actually know what it said. Maybe if I had a unicorn horn, she'd give me a chance instead of him.

“If I'm allowed to ask—why are we doing this now?” She didn't actually wait for permission—if she was really one of their gods, they couldn't refuse her, could they? “I saw Amaranth Vale die, I know there's... gonna be trouble. Equestria will discover. If you're doing powerful magic here, won't they find out?”

The Watcher remained utterly still beyond the veil. He didn't twitch, or bob up and down, or even seem to breathe. For that matter, his scent didn't change either. She couldn't read his feelings that way, as she might have with another pony. It was just those awful spices.

“That is why this ritual must happen now. The servants of Vale are loyal to the True Gods—but when the fire crew arrives, they will search the property. They will discover their royal constable dead in a terrible accident. They will send telegrams—which we will intercept. Even so, Equestria will discover. Ponies arrive by train and airship, carrying word. When Canterlot discovers, it may be the moment of crisis for all worshipers of Equestria's True Gods.”

It was so hard to tell when the pony talking to her used a grave whisper for every word, but Firefly didn't think he sounded dishonest. That future seemed so plausible. Celestia found out about her dead representative, and she might even come down to investigate it herself.

If there was any truth to what the Lightless Star said about ponies who wanted Lilac and Firefly dead, it had to be in Celestia. The immortal ruler, who had once banished the Alicorns from her world. The one who turned her enemies to stone and sent her own sister to the moon.

“What are we doing here, exactly?” Firefly asked. “What's supposed to happen?”

Ether Lens stepped forward, nudging her eyes away from the Watcher. “That is easy, Firefly. We will restore you to your status as an Alicorn, unlocking all the magic that has been repressed. With your new power, we won't need elaborate rituals and subterfuge—you can open a portal yourself, and return all your banished brothers and sisters. The greatest power you've seen from mortal ponies will seem like the fumblings of a foal compared to your potential.”

Firefly's wings twitched, her ears folding back. “Why me? Lilac is much better with magic. She could probably tell you what this circle is, and how it works. All the power in Equestria and I'll still just know flying stuff.”

“The knowledge is there,” the Watcher whispered. “Even the lowliest among the ancient gods were scholars of immortal lifetimes. When we succeed, your first act might be to elevate your companion Lilac Empathy as well, and do this work together. Once you are upon your throne, it will no longer be the domain of any mortal to give you instruction. We will do as we are commanded. And, we hope, you will return our service with kindness and mercy. You will need ponies to assist you in ruling over Equestria, once the tyrants are dead.”

Dead. Firefly glanced nervously to the front door—and found one of the cultists standing there. There was another blocking the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Her father and Ether Lens both stood aside, closer to the ritual circle than anywhere else. There were endless problems with the plan the Lightless Star had constructed, but one stood taller than all the others. Firefly wasn't a god.

Firefly eyed the Watcher one last time, then spread her wings as wide as they would go and took off with a blast of wind and crackling lightning.

Chapter 60: Witnessed of Storms

Until meeting Rainbow Dash, Firefly imagined she was the fastest pony in all Equestria. Even with the painful reality of her limitations, she still saw herself as fast. She could move quick enough that she didn't even leave a blur behind.

She crossed her apartment in a flash, moving well away from the ritual circle. Without Lilac to tell her what it would do, she wanted nothing to do with its contents, or the magic it might summon. It wasn't that she knew it would hurt her. There were just too many unanswered questions, too many strange decisions and coincidences.

More than anything else, Firefly didn't want to hurt anyone. If the Lightless Star wanted to give her all that power, but made her kill with it—she wanted nothing to do with it.

A wave of air formed ahead of her, tossing the cultist in the hallway aside like dry straw. He smashed through a side door, before landing with a groan in a huge pile of chairs. Firefly tucked in her wings, preparing to pass through her bedroom—and stopped dead.

In just a few feet she had already reached considerable speed, enough that the sudden stop stole the breath from her lungs. She should've dropped to the ground, yet even with her wings frozen, she remained in the air. She struggled, muscles in her back aching as she fought against the strain. It felt as though her whole body was instantly submerged in thick gelatin, rendering her almost immobile. She couldn't even open her mouth to breathe!

Her eyes darted madly, watching paralyzed as she drifted back into the room. The force holding her was incredible, pressing down on every inch of her body at once. Even so, there was some give. She grunted and strained, and her feathers opened. If she kept pushing, she could even speak. “D-Dad! Don't—”

“Your father was appointed by the Lightless Star,” said the Watcher. His voice remained a whisper, yet somehow she heard it as though it were only inches from her ears. She couldn't turn to see, just felt something hovering in the air behind her. “His role was to prepare you for this moment, unborn one. We always knew you might recoil from your responsibility, retreating into the simplicity of your false life. But this cannot continue. We require the essence of one god to birth another.”

She floated over the ritual circle, perfectly in its center. She rotated slightly as she did, and could finally get a good look at Dusty. The pegasus’s wings were splayed to either side, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't want this any more than she did!

She kept staring at him until their eyes met. She would be sobbing with terror, if her face wasn't frozen in rictus paralysis.

“Dusty rises above the vermin he was born to be,” Ether Lens hissed. “When the true gods return, they will elevate him to a true creature, with a soul of his own. You may even be the one to do it, in gratitude. If you will it.”

“Focus on your task, Ether Lens,” said the Watcher. He seemed so much further away now. Had he returned to his pavilion? “Abandon your pretense. I cannot hold her for long. If she were much older, this would be impossible. Perform the spell, now.”

She could hear the strain in his voice. That whisper sounded even older than last time, a dying patient shriveled on an oversized hospital bed. Holding her cost the Watcher somehow. His power wasn't endless.

The diagram began to glow, coming to life with a faintly green light. Ether Lens stood at the center, beside the largest crystal pillar. It was just like Lilac's scrying spell—some of those words were familiar to her, but most were utter gibberish, spoken in a language that made her head ache to hear.

Not just her head. With the volume of his incantation, an ache began in Firefly's body. It brought with it numbness that spread through her.

It was a little like falling asleep, and soon the numbness overpowered the pain. Why should she keep struggling, anyway? Fighting was hard, and she was so tired. She should just rest now.

She barely even felt it as she dropped to the ground, landing in an awkward heap. She bounced to one side, smacking against the inside of the circle. It was a shield, the same kind Lilac had used when they hid from Derek Ashsen. Only this shield faced inward, trapping her.

That shock was enough to cut through the numbness, at least for a moment. Her limbs moved sluggishly, but she still moved, staring around at the ritual. The two cultists returned, albeit one limping his way over with huge tears in his cloak. They surrounded the circle, while the Watcher observed from beyond a veil.

Dusty did not join the ritual circle. He took a place beside one of the dark pillars, but didn't chant along with the others. “H-help...”

Firefly wasn't going to curl up and let them do what they wanted to her. If she didn't get out, who would warn Lilac? She took off again—clumsier this time, bumping one wing into the circle. She flew up, bouncing from one side of the circle to the other. But she didn't have far to go. Soon she reached the ceiling, and would just smack her head into it. That roof was sturdy, with solid beams and tile and a whole garden up there. She couldn't buck it over like an earth pony.

The voices below got louder, accelerating. One by one the candles burning around the circle went out, their light somehow devoured by one of the five pillars. She felt them pulling on her too. A whirlwind, drawing her down towards each of those black points.

“I won't!” She whimpered, spreading her wings to either side. She didn't need to feel her body to change the weather. She moved her wings anyway, reaching, longing for the endless sky above. All she needed was a window, and she could leave even the Watcher behind. She had to get out!

“Hurry!” another voice spoke from below, barely audible over the chanting. The Watcher, with real desperation now. “Look at her! Finish the spell!”

Lighting arced between her wings, striking out at the ritual circle. Sparks exploded from the contact, and her ears rang—but the circle remained. Her mane lifted, and one bolt was joined by others. The downward gravity of air became a whirlwind, spinning in a blur around her. She trimmed her wings, tucking her legs in close, and fought the storm.

She rose upward against the current, towards the wooden ceiling. A blast of energy struck against it, igniting it in a flash. but there was only a tiny gap, not even as wide as her hoof. She strained, gritting her teeth, and a second blast tore it open—revealing sturdy wooden beams, blocking the way upward.

No! Even incredible power wasn't enough to open the ceiling—not in time. Firefly began to sink. Not towards the floor anymore—a vortex of smoke and darkness rose beneath her, extended from each of the fire pillars. Within it she saw nothing—no alien stars, no hideous void. There was only oblivion.

Her strength waned. Another bolt struck, but this one was barely a firecracker. It isn't enough. I can't get out.

Firefly's confident flapping became a desperate struggle, feathers billowing through the air around her. Now the pain reached through magical numbness, the burn of terrible cold against every muscle and sinew. She screamed, struggling in futile desperation, fighting for every inch.

Firefly had survived the transit between worlds, survived a second childhood as an alien horse, survived against demons and fairies. Now she would die to a dark spell cast in secret in the place she thought was her home.

She faced her father as she dropped lower and lower, where he stood in silence beside a crystal pillar. Tears streaked down her face, drawn down into the vortex beneath. The pony who had protected her all this time was there to watch as she died. She didn't even have the strength to call out to him anymore.

Dusty jerked sideways abruptly, smashing his shoulder into the crystal pillar beside him. Firefly watched, transfixed as it tumbled to the ground in front of her, then shattered in an explosion of pink and blue sparks. It tumbled across the edge of the circle, breaking the even green glow into an unsteady pulse that barely held together.

Strength washed over her in an overwhelming flood. A few desperate flaps became confident and powerful, her wings arcing with a trail of bright yellow.

She screamed, sending magic exploding from her in all directions. She barely even heard the shouts of panic from under her as thunder rocked the building, shaking the unsteady apartment to its foundation. Windows shattered, photos tumbled from the walls, and the building groaned under the strain.

The other crystals toppled over, one by one, shattering with little explosions of light. With each one she felt her strength returning, until she could feel the sky above her again. More than feel it—Firefly could reach it.

She was in no place to think, her voice twisted into a shriek of terror and desperation. Nothing mattered to her now except escape. She felt the currents in the flow across the face of the planet, great processions of moisture and trapped potential on their own appointed courses. Equestria was an organized ballet of hot and cold, damp and dry, delivering ideal weather to its inhabitants.

Firefly didn't care about the greater design, she just needed a way out! Something gripped her again, the same force that had dragged her into the ritual circle to begin with. She couldn't hear the Watcher’s voice over the ringing in her ears, and the terrible wind. But she didn't care what he said anymore.

She flapped her wings, leaving glowing afterimages in the air behind her, and spreading the growing flames above until they caught the carpet, the walls. “Let me go!”

The roof lifted off the building, spinning into the deep green vortex. It lifted Dusty's furniture collection, then the cultists too, powerless to resist its current. The whirlwind spun wildly around her, yet she remained perfectly still at its center, hovering where the ritual had trapped her.

Only when she saw Dusty go spinning up into the air did Firefly even realize what she'd done.

This isn't an abandoned mine! We're in downtown Willowbrook! This was her storm, and already it strained, tugging away from the building she had called it to escape. How many ponies would get swept away, caught out of the blue by a magically-summoned storm?

With so much power flowing through her, Firefly didn't have to know how to stop the storm. The winds themselves were her teacher. They spoke a harsh lesson—she could not banish the power she demanded just because she didn't want it anymore. It could only be transformed.

Firefly shot up into the sky, coursing straight through the center of the vortex in a yellow-orange trail. She caught great waves of air with her wings as she flew, disrupting the cyclone's contact with the ground.

She could not banish it now, but this tornado was only a subtle flavor different from a thunderstorm. The altitude blurred past her as the cloud expanded into a vast, dark thunderhead, roiling with energy within. Wind howled and moisture smashed up against her, buffeting her in the air.

Whatever surge of magical strength the failed ritual gave her—it was running out. Her mane stopped standing on end, and the glow in her feathers dimmed. The gale had been her servant, but now it reminded her of just how small she was, shoving her hundreds of feet through gaps in dark clouds.

She struggled forward, searching without flight-goggles for one dark speck against the downpour. “Dusty!” she screamed, her voice desperate and afraid. “Dusty, where are you?”

Equestria would be better off if the storm took the cultists into the sky and they never came down again. But not Dusty. Whatever the Lightless Star said about all the ways he had been working for them from the beginning, Firefly didn't care. His intervention set her free.

She broke the top of the cloud, emerging into the thin upper air. Moisture on her feathers and coat froze instantly into a spiderweb of frost, chilling her. She ignored it, arcing up over the thunderhead, scanning the cloud beneath.

There! A single dark figure was splayed atop a stable portion of cloud, unconscious. Even at a distance, she could tell it wasn't a pony. Firefly didn't care. She tucked in her wings, and dropped into a dive.

Chapter 61: Fireflies

Firefly landed atop the cloud, feet from the unconscious form of a creature she had never seen before.

After what she had just suffered through, Firefly was hardly in good shape herself. She felt as though her whole body was covered in unseen burns, leaving patches of feathers and fur gray and colorless. Mentally she wasn't in much better condition, after witnessing the first death of her lifetime, then almost being murdered herself.

Her last few hours had been so confusing in fact that she was barely even aware of the procession of information she'd been exposed to. Were there secrets to the cult's true plans buried in what they did, or right out in the open for all to see? She didn’t know, and just now she didn't care.

The creature before her was even worse off, she could see that even without knowing what exactly she was looking at. Its wings were tattered and frayed at the edges, its black body scorched with little electrical burns. It was thinner and slighter than a pony ought to be, with holes running through its legs.

But maybe those weren't wounds. They weren't bleeding anyway, and she couldn't see any disgusting views of internal organs through them. It was an alien creature, but not in the way that the demon Derek had been deep beneath the Cyan Mines. When she nudged it, it opened a single multifaceted eye, brilliant blue and emotionless. But were those scraps of torn cult-robes clinging to its legs there at the bottom?

I don't have time to waste investigating this for too long, she thought. I need to find Dusty.

If this was some straggler left in the building after it should've been evacuated, there was little she could do to help now. It wasn't falling, and its many minor wounds only seeped the thick blue blood. It didn't seem to have any broken limbs.

Water atop it froze, making the creature shiver. It looked away from her, covering its face with one hoof. In shame?

Rain and wind raged over Willowbrook below, but the air up here was too thin to carry much sound. She could even hear its ragged breathing.

“I'm sorry, I can't help you down,” Firefly said. “I have to find somepony else. My dad, he...” She sniffed, “I tossed him up here somewhere. I have to find him. But I'll... try to come back for you when I do!” She took off again, hovering over the cloud. “Just keep your head down. There are some really bad creatures down there.” She wiped her eyes, shaking away chunks of frozen ice.

When she lowered her hoof again, the half-insect creature was gone. In its place, Velvet Moon lay sprawled on the cloud. She showed similar signs of injury—burns on her coat, bleeding from little cuts and wounds that came out in familiar red. “I t-tried to... warn you,” she whimpered.

Firefly dropped from the air, landing stunned on the cloud beside her. Beneath them, a terrible storm met existing currents, growing worse by the second.

Snow blasted out from inside the cloud all around them, drifting slowly back down overhead to be reabsorbed. Mostly it just made them colder and more miserable, obscuring her view of the city beneath.

“What just—was that a teleport?”

Velvet ignored the question. Nor could it be anything as simple as a teleport, when the injuries of the larger insect-creature transferred to her friend. Had she heard Lilac talk about creatures that could change their shapes before?

There was something there, but her friend knew so much magical lore it was hard to keep track of it all.

“I couldn't say—so many things. The Lightless Star presses on your mind. Geas keeps you from speaking, saying what you really think. I tried to send you away!”

Velvet had tried to warn her. It was so indirect that Firefly hadn't really noticed, or understood what her friend was trying to say.

She moved over to the bat, brushing the ice away from her face with a wing. She was still shivering—Firefly thought that was a good sign. It was when somepony stopped shivering that you needed to worry.

“Were you waiting outside?” Firefly asked, whimpering with her own guilt. “I'm s-sorry. I just... I didn't mean to suck you up here. But if I didn't get out, they were going to kill me. I just have to find my—”

This time she was sitting directly beside the bat when she changed. There was a faint flash of light, and the creature grew. It wasn't her friend anymore. Instead it was a stallion, one she'd spent countless hours flying beside.

Her father looked just as injured as the insect or bat had been, feathers ragged and fur scorched by electrical burns. He struggled to sit up in the clouds, barely managing it. “I'm sorry, Firefly. I—”

She wrapped her forelegs around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she'd ever hugged another pony in her life. The chill of upper air, the struggle to breathe for long periods—none of that mattered.

It took her a long time to get out anything like words through her pained sobs. “Y-you stopped the spell,” she cried. “Without you, th-they would've killed me!”

The creature under her hooves changed again. She felt him shrink—not smaller than she was, but not as large as an adult stallion either. Suddenly there were bug eyes watching her, and he pushed her away.

“I don't deserve your love, Firefly!” he called, prying her off him. He seemed so much stronger than he had been moments before. Were there fewer injuries on his shiny black coat? “Look at me! I'm not Dust Storm, I'm not even a pony! My name is Septum, I'm a changeling spy sent by an evil queen from far away, hunting for somewhere vulnerable to attack! Don't love me!”

Only seeing so many changes in rapid succession could she finally connect them in her mind. Her father, Velvet Moon, they did have behaviors in common. Whenever she put herself in danger that Dusty couldn't be there, Velvet Moon usually was. Never together, but never far apart.

The thestral tried to warn her away from returning home, hinting at the cult's true intentions without speaking to them directly. When she ignored the warning, Dusty had been there to save her life. Only he had pulled her back from the brink.

She sat up, wiping tears with one leg. It did little to stop the new ones. “You were Dusty, all this time?” she asked.

“I don't deserve what you feel, Firefly! When I volunteered to take you, I only knew that young ponies were so full of love I would never go hungry, never have to flee back to the hive. You were just prey I brought into my nest.”

He backed away from her along the cloud, spreading both wings as he did so. They looked different than last time, somehow thicker around the edges, more like glass than dragonfly tissue. Was he healing that fast? “Ether Lens told you the truth. I'm a changeling, Firefly. Vermin.”

She felt her first twinge of real disgust then. A nest—that was what his home first felt like. Collections of meaningless objects, trapping her in a maze of possessions that Dusty didn't seem to understand. Figuring out how to cook her own food, fleeing out onto the balcony before she eventually made her room her own space.

But it didn't feel like that anymore. When she thought about her home now, it made her eyes water all over again. It wasn't the nest of some bloodsucking insect, it was the safe place she ran to when she ran out of places to hide. It wasn't the objects inside that had really changed—it was because of the pony she always found waiting inside.

“If you were a parasite...” Firefly followed him. “Why did you take me into the Cumulus Maze? You were a-always... down the hall when I woke with nightmares? Why tell me... what dresses made me look pretty? Why help me make friends in school?”

Her voice shook so badly that she could barely form coherent words. “You t-tried to warn me. And when I didn't listen, you protected me. What kind of parasite does those things? What kind of vermin?”

The bug-pony stopped moving. He looked overwhelmed, alien eyes glazed over with pain or stress. “I... I...”

Firefly reached the fallen bug. His body felt strange, neither hard nor soft. She didn't care, and hugged him tighter than ever before. “I lost everything today. The Lightless Star tried to kill me, and I don't even know why! My best friend almost got dragged before Celestia to get judged and who knows what after that. Now the princess will send ponies trying to kill me too. My house and everything I love is... gone, ripped away in the storm I caused.”

She sobbed for a few seconds, clinging tighter. “I don't want to lose you too, Dad. I don't care... I don't care what a changeling is. Just don't leave me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know where to go.”

She opened her eyes again. Between the snow and ice and wispy fog, she could barely even see him anymore. “I just w-want somepony to still be there. Somepony to tell me that there's... a way out of all this. That things will be okay. And if I have to call you Septum instead, I will. I don't care. I'm not really a pony on the inside either.”

She wasn't sure how much time passed like that, clinging to the strange insect high above the storm she created. The cold and altitude would get to her eventually. But endurance to those conditions were some of the gifts that came with pegasus magic. She had more than enough of that to spare.

Next thing she knew, there were actual wings wrapped around her again. Dusty pulled her in close, the same as he'd done hundreds of times before. Every time she came home from school crying, every time she sprained her wing in a fall, or made herself look stupid because she didn't know something about Equestria.

Every time she was scared or afraid or confused. Anytime she needed her father. “I love you, my little Firefly. Everything will be okay.”

Atop such a terrible thunderstorm, there was little chance of anyone finding them. She could only hope that the ordinary citizens of Willowbrook had somewhere to hide, too. And if they were all very lucky, maybe that the Watcher had been killed by the storm.

She started shivering after a while, shaking some of the ice from her body. “What do we do, Septum? Where do we go?”

He shook himself out, shedding bits of ice and snow from his coat. “I'm not sure, Firefly. The cult will be hunting you now—and Equestria won't be far behind. Amaranth Vale is dead. What you did to escape, right there in the center of Willowbrook—ponies will notice. I don't know what will happen next.”

It was wrong to expect him to have some magical answer for all her problems, he was mortal too. But whatever power the failed ritual gave her for those moments, whatever view into the truth of magic and the dangers of her true nature—she couldn't forget her second lifetime here in Willowbrook, with Dusty always there to protect her.

“What you suggested earlier—it's a good plan. The Watcher is dangerous beyond what you understand. You and I will be vulnerable to his magic for a great distance. But maybe if we fly far enough, we can escape it. Ride a cloud north to the... Crystal Empire, maybe.”

Or to Canterlot, she thought. Rainbow Dash would listen to her, and this time hear everything she knew about the town. Then the unicorn Twilight Sparkle would be able to keep her safe, couldn't she? Princess Celestia couldn't want her dead any more than the cult did.

She would've agreed, if it wasn't for one thing. “I have to see Lilac. The Lightless Star came for me. If I escape, they'll come for her too. We have to run together.”

Chapter 62: Good Folk

Lilac Empathy hadn't exactly known what responsibilities would be waiting for her when she accepted a covenant with the fairies of the mountain grove. What mattered to her was the new source of power, and more importantly—a new source of information. Having responsibilities to earn that privilege was no secret curse they sprung on her, but an expected and reasonable part of the process.

It was only because she had spent so long away from the grove that there was so much for her to do. Well that, and a few significant changes to the scale of her duties.

“I can't levitate something this big,” Risk repeated, staring up at the massive boulder before them. There were many like it all through the city—but this one obscured the location that shaman insisted would be ideal for a particularly choice flower. So long as the ground was covered, power could not spring forth to help her.

The fae folk might call their home a city, but that word meant something very different to them. Even feet from one of their finest mansions, the ground grew wild, with great plants growing so dense and thick overhead that Lilac sometimes couldn't see the sky.

There was barely enough room for her to circle around the huge stone, probing for hints at how they could get it out of the way.

She pressed both forelegs up against it from one side, bracing with all the strength of earth, and shoved.

It did move, sliding forward along the ground, but her shove only made it dig deeper into the ground, burying its front in soft soil, and sticking there.

Finally she dropped, groaning with frustration. “If we can't use magic to move it, what are we supposed to do?”

Risk rested one hoof over her shoulder in a brief hug. After spending a few days out here, there was something lighter about him, and leaner. It came from exchanging the fine foods of House Vale with nectar and pollen. “We'll figure it out. We cleared that whole field yesterday on our own, we can do this too.”

“It would be nice if we didn't have to!” she spoke, a little louder than she had to. But she was sweaty and frustrated enough not to care how many of the people watching overheard. “There's so much help around here! Think of how much we could do together!”

There were at least a dozen of them at any one time, perched on flowers overhead, watching through the underbrush, or sometimes even perched on the boulder she was trying to move. Sometimes they gave advice, but they never helped.

Lilac broke away a second later, then kicked off the rocky ground. Maybe she was just coming at this assignment from the wrong angle. Moving the rock didn't have to be that hard.

Firefly would probably be an instant expert at navigating like this, even if they had four wings instead of two and they were the clear stuff of dragonflies instead of muscles and feathers. But even after a few dozen brief visits to the scale of her teachers, Lilac still found the process clumsy. She could go up, hover in place, then go down again, and that was about it.

Little Risk couldn't even manage that. He watched from underneath, wings twitching in sympathy but unable to even lift off the ground. “See anything up there?”

She saw her last hour of effort hadn't gotten them anywhere. A little spell-diagram around the rock hadn't exploded it as intended, only made a few modest cracks down the center. Pushing it bodily wedged it in deeper, so any physical attack from that angle would only meet with failure.

Floating from overhead, she soon found herself distracted, watching Risk instead of the rock underneath. How many ponies would hold up through a trip like this? But she'd brought that unicorn deep under the earth, they'd fought demons, and now here he was in the domain of dangerous fairy creatures.

Still he followed her as loyal as he was cute. This would be so much simpler if her memory wasn't tied up with other complicated pain. She wanted to be with another boy again. But shouldn't it be Copper?

Compared to all that, her “father” trying to turn her over to Celestia for execution seemed like a little thing. The flames that came after were a little bigger, granted—she couldn't think of that without crying.

So she banished that thought, and landed beside Risk again. “I think I know something we can try.”

He nudged her with his shoulder this time, reassuring her as best he could. “Sure. Just so long as you don't want me to levitate something ten times my size again. Look at me, Lilac. I'm a bug, I'm not Celestia.”

She did look at him, right into his eyes. There were plenty of differences, but nothing different about him wasn't true about her too. She was stretched into the same “breezie” shape, with long legs, huge wings, and a relatively small body. Maybe that was why the differences in him didn't put her off.

“No levitation,” she finally said. “Just get around to this side, and we'll pull.”

As they walked, Lilac felt through the ground at their hooves. Her magic was easier than ever to reach at this size—not diminished by her scale so much as concentrated. Thin creepers wrapped around the stones she walked, vines that corresponded to no natural growth.

It was the same magic she used to defend herself, only without the violence this time. She got it around to the other side, then the plants extended like a rope, wrapping once past the stem of a nearby tree trunk. Well... probably the stem of a flower or something, at their scale.

She used a few other nearby plants in a similar way, working a simple mechanical pulley.

“That looks like a tangled mess,” Risk said. “How is that supposed to help?”

“Not magic this time, just mechanical laws.” She lifted the edge of the vine off the ground. “Help tie this around me, okay? I need a harness.”

He obeyed. The natural rope was strong stuff, so thick it would be difficult to tie. He recreated one of the simplest rope arrangements used by ponies of labor all over Willowbrook, except that it was a little further along her back. Lilac didn't even want to think about how much it would hurt to crush her wings.

“You think this will be enough?” he asked, when he was finished. “I think I see what you're trying to do here, but... I'm not sure you're strong enough.”

Lilac gritted her teeth, then started walking forward. As she expected, the extra loops in her makeshift pulley meant she had to move much further to get the rock very far. But with much less force required, this time her magic didn't give out. She heaved and grunted, but didn't use her wings to help. If she lifted off the ground, all the strength of her tribe would fail her in an instant, and she'd stop dead.

Risk followed along beside her, his horn glowing brightly. With his help, the tugging got easier, and the stone accelerated. Once past static friction and the softest soil, they were moving much easier.

Finally the rock touched up against the trunk of the first flower, and she stopped, turning to see her work. There was now a large empty place where it had been, along with a trail showing just how far they'd pulled it. Several whole body-lengths, plenty of room to plant a new flower.

“We did it.” She slumped against Risk, breathing heavily. For a few seconds the two of them just stood there, catching their breath.

Risk's horn glowed again, and the harness loosened around her, tumbling away. “How long do we have to keep... working here?”

Lilac's antennae twitched as she considered the list they'd received that morning. “I think that's all the manual labor! Saffron wants me to be part of a ritual tonight, and you can probably join if you want. If you... can figure out how to fly by then.”

Risk shoved her shoulder. Of course he was a unicorn, so the touch didn't even budge her. “I don't mean today. I mean how much longer do we have to keep hiding here in the grass, pretending to be breezies?”

“Act like people long enough, and you won't have to pretend,” said another voice. Saffron landed a little way from Lilac. No matter how many times she visited, it was still hard to look up at the breezie, who was now more than a full head taller than she was, with much grander wings. The latter mattered far more to the “people” than the former. “There's no reason to flee this place, apprentice. You know what darkness waits beyond its verdant walls.”

He approached, then touched antennae up against hers in the equivalent of a local hoof shake. It didn't get any less disorienting either. “The flowers still whisper from dark realms. Their roots probe deep, pry out what is dry and lifeless.”

Saffron was right—with so many natural duties, with the power of the living world as thick as sap around her, there was no reason to think about other things. The nameless vistas that bound her and the dark truths they whispered were little more than unpleasant memories here.

“We're not breezies,” Risk repeated. “We're grateful for your protection from Equestria, and we agree it's fair to earn our keep—but we've already been here for days. Lilac, don't you think we should at least check on Willowbrook? Our families might've been trying to reach us, but how would they even get here? This place is protected, even from them.”

Her teacher turned on Risk. His wings beat once in annoyance, but didn't buzz like smaller insects sometimes did. Breezies' wings were too large to move that fast, and each flap they made was deliberate. “Iris Vale has visited us before. She knows the path to follow to do so again, whenever she wishes. There are others too—Firefly's sympathy to Lilac is too powerful to sever. We will see one of them in time.”

“I know you don't want to stay like this longer than you have to,” Lilac said. “We probably won't have to. We can't stay gone for too long, or they'll miss us.”

“Unless what they think doesn't matter,“ Saffron finished. ”You could flee to return to this petty game of crowns and cults. Or stay in the wild and live forever. Even this one will learn, with your instruction. Great and small winds grant you sounder patience than I.“

Risk rolled his eyes, but didn't keep up the argument. It was the same discussion Saffron tried to raise with every visit. He no longer seemed to care that being small limited Lilac's ability to help the grove. In his strange, fairy way, he actually cared for her safety.

Lilac smelled it before she heard it—a silent call to alarm, released by one of the people in panic. There were many layers of subtlety to their pheromone communication, but almost all of it was lost on her. She sensed only the simplest concept underneath. “Something coming.”

Saffron took off instantly, hovering there. “See, unicorn? Your incessant anxiety to flee civilization was purposeless. Outsiders have arrived to lure my student away to foolish vanity and death.”

Lilac wanted to follow him immediately—but she couldn't, not without leaving Risk behind. She stayed with him on the ground, shouting up instead. “Where should we go?”

“Where it smells the worst!” Saffron yelled back. “How many hours did we spend scrubbing the pony out of you two? How can you not smell it?”

She could, now that he told her what to look for. She smelled ozone and moisture, along with winds so terrible they could sweep away whole cities. She smelled constant energy and motion. Firefly.

“She's here!” Lilac tugged at Risks's hoof, then started running through the plants. “Come on!”

He followed, glaring at her. “I hope you realize... what seeing me like this will do. She'll call me Little for the rest of my life.”

“I'm smaller than you,” Lilac insisted. “Just come on!”

Chapter 63: Aquire Bigness

Firefly had never visited Lilac while actually serving in the grove before. Sometimes they traveled together, but those visits were always spent at one uniform size, where there was no need to confuse Firefly’s already crowded mind with the difficulty of breezie existence.

Lilac had always meant to find the time to explain it, in the same way she always hoped to really dig into Firefly’s weather magic, and see if there was some cloud-based analogue to runecraft. Unfortunately the time continued to elude her. She’ll understand. We have more important things to worry about than how breezies work.

The Good Folk were clearly not bothered by the visit. As she flew across the grove, Lilac caught many excited scents, and just as many eager whispers about what their arrival could mean. Were more ponies renouncing their backward lifestyles and accepting the harmonious life in the forest?

She would’ve told them not to get their hopes up, if she didn’t think that would only make things worse. It’s going to be a fight when I try to leave.

She found Firefly in the central clearing, where valuable flowers were kept from growing and all rocks and refuse were dumped. There at least large-sized visitors with no respect for the ground wouldn’t destroy the hard work of fairy craftsmen.

Lilac would never quite get used to seeing ponies from so very far below. Her friend loomed terrifying against the trees. The nervous buzzing of her wings alone produced a current that kept the Good Folk from getting too close.

They assembled in the clearing around her instead, finding perches on whatever plants they could. It would be hovering-room only soon, with so many watchers.Even the fairies skeptical of outsiders and unhappy with Lilac’s presence were eager to see how this conversation went.

“Lilac?” Firefly called, more insistent. Her voice was so loud it made Lilac’s antennae curl in pain. Did she have to be so obvious? If there was anyone hunting them, they couldn’t miss a shout like that. Even fairy magic could protect them only so well.

Lilac flew straight up to her, stopping in the air about a foot from her face. That close, her physical similarities should be obvious, even to weak pony eyes. “Right here. Please stop yelling.”

Firefly blinked, her eyes struggling to focus. She recoiled, both wings spreading with her surprise. At this size, even Lilac could feel the sudden static in the air, like a thunderstorm had rolled in from nowhere.

Well not nowhere this time—there was a thunderstorm right now, raging across Willowbrook with devastating winds and pouring rain. The magic of the Good Folk kept its wrath from the clearing, though. As it passed down from the upper canopy of the trees, the rain transformed to a dense fog, which the plants greedily drank up.

They would allow the rain to come down, too, but only after dark, when sane fairies had found cover and the wild ones could dance with the falling gods of death.

“Lilac?” Firefly asked, barely any quieter than before. She reached for her with one hoof, but Lilac withdrew, dropping out of her reach. “Why are you tiny?”

“She isn’t,” said Saffron, buzzing into the air beside her. Lilac wouldn’t admit it, but she felt safer with another fairy close by. There were hundreds watching, but none close enough to help her. It was nice to have a reminder what size creatures should be. “You’re a gigantic, greedy distillation of rain and lightning. For her sake you’re here, cloudborn. Speak quickly.”

She glanced over her shoulder, as though expecting someone to be there to help. There was nopony else there. Firefly sighed, then settled onto her haunches. “Is that how you’ve been hiding?”

Lilac saw nowhere simple to land, so just had to hover there. She could just about manage it without bobbing around too much. Even so, the effort would exhaust her quickly. She had only so much endurance.

“Yeah. Risk is here somewhere. Probably still walking here, he’ll catch up in a minute. What’s going on? You came all the way here; it must be important! Is Equestria here, hunting for you? We can make room, right Saffron?”

“Over the stallion? Simple. She has much magic to give, and strange tales of distant places. Void-touched and darkness scarred, here perhaps relief waits for her. If she can accept a change of profession. It is not for us to tell the clouds when to gather, and when to release their deluge. Harmony requires acceptance, not control.”

Firefly shook her head. “Lilac, that’s not—how do I even tell you…?”

She did, or she tried. It took her over an hour, beginning at how she’d flown back from the burning house, then wandered across Willowbrook until she eventually returned home.

At some point Risk arrived, watching from the ground at their hooves without drawing much notice to himself. Lilac noticed because she wasn’t blind—but if he didn’t want Firefly to see, then she wasn’t going to spoil it for him.

Lilac landed on one of Firefly’s outstretched wings, which proved quite a bit more stable than her own hovering ability. Her friend overflowed with magical power, but none of it hurt her. Firefly would be careful.

What followed was a harrowing story of confrontation with the Lightless Star, which would’ve ended in her best friend’s death. More than once her friend had to stop to recollect herself, crying raindrop-sized tears onto the soil. Lilac could offer little comfort at her size, but she tried anyway.

There were other strange details. They’d always known her father was appointed by the Lightless Star, but he wasn’t even a pony. Rescuing him from the storm came near the end of her story.

“We spent the night up there,” Firefly finished. “There was nowhere to go back to in the morning. The cult is hunting for us now. Th-they want me dead. I dunno why. I don’t understand any of what they do anymore.”

“That can’t be right!” shouted a tiny voice, from down by the ground. Lilac heard it, but only because she was used to listening to fairies from a great distance. It came easier with practice. “We’ve been here for days! Like... three or four or... a week maybe?”

Maybe Firefly was more attentive than Lilac gave her credit for, because she looked down, to Risk’s outline perched on the grass far below her. “Risk? You let her bug you too?”

“Yes,” he said, puffing out his chest. His wings were all spread, but not flapping to hold him up. Instead, they twitched occasionally, making little adjustments to help him keep his balance. A few days with the Good Folk wasn’t long enough for a unicorn to learn to fly. “Are you sure it was only a few days?”

Saffron reappeared from the flowers, circling past Lilac. “He assumes that time is equal from all views. He does not consider how much more of it we enjoy here, in civilization.”

Even Lilac didn’t really understand that subject. She had a vague sense of time moving differently when she visited the grove, of being able to accomplish weeks of work and never miss school. But she’d never investigated too seriously, in case seeing the magic somehow took away its effects.

Just now there were more important thoughts on her mind. If they had a few more days to recover than linear time would suggest, that was strictly a good thing.

The Lightless Star had turned on them. “We always knew something like this would happen eventually,” she said, ignoring the question completely. “We’ve been pretending to be the gods they wanted, so they wouldn’t kill us or turn us over to Equestria. But we were only ever a psychiatrist and a real estate agent from Earth. We can’t make divines where none existed.”

“What do we do?” Firefly twisted her wing until she held it out in front of her. “I thought about running away from Willowbrook. But my dad says that won’t work. The Lightless Star has bits and pieces of everyone. With enough time, they can attack us no matter where we are in Equestria. We could think we escaped, then just drop dead.”

“The fateless parasite is correct,” Saffron said. “Sympathetic magic defies borders and distance. It cannot reach you here, however. This grove is sacred, half a world away from the high magic of great ponies. No search will ever find you within the shelter of the trees, no matter how powerful. The Dawnbringer herself could not pierce the veil that surrounds us. But fly beyond a single blade of grass, and the blind eye will see again.”

Firefly tilted her head to the side, annoyance in her voice. “Doesn’t matter, you won't let my dad come in here. I’m not staying here while he’s still vulnerable.”

Saffron turned on her. It was rare enough to see Saffron talking directly to Firefly—but he did this time, speaking harshly. “You discovered yourself, pony. Septum is a changeling. He cannot enter this ground without stealing its strength. The magic that would allow you to join us as Lilac has would not work for him. Even if his own powers were sufficiently advanced, it would be only a mask.”

“We were never planning to hide, were we Lilac?” It wasn’t even a question. “If we can’t get back home, and the Lightless Star wants us dead, then we have to look somewhere else for help.”

“Do you know somewhere?” Lilac asked. She had to be careful—she could offer no reason for her desire to leave that would insult the Good Folk. But she also couldn’t lie, or they would seize on it like thread, and use it to tie her.

“I know someone,” she answered. “Ponies I met while you were on that airship. I didn’t tell them very much last time—but they never tried to kill me, and the Lightless Star did.”

“You should not go to Equestrians without understanding the truth.” Saffron flew past her, hovering above Firefly’s wing without landing on it. “You could go before the Dawnbringer, but there’s no guarantee she will hear you. It would not be unlike her to slay the danger before it can grow. Her students may be soft, but she is not.”

“I know you want us to stay,” Lilac said. She kept her voice neutral now, with difficulty. Part of her wanted to stay, too. Escape the cult, somewhere she could continue studying magic without worrying about her past injuries, or Equestria, or anyone. Being small barely even mattered, so long as she stayed in the valley. “But if Firefly goes, I’ll go with her.”

“And I’m going!” Risk said. “I stayed for you, Lilac. But I don’t belong here. Even the breezies keep saying it.”

Saffron took her by the foreleg, pulling her up into the air. “I know, child. You are like so many others, caught in the illusion that your conflicts serve you. I will not keep you here against your will. But I would prefer your departure not be doomed for certain death. You should know the truth of the ancients—understand the gods your cult worships, and why the Dawnbringer guards against their return.”

“Can you tell us?” Firefly asked, way too loudly. “That would be... amazing!”

Saffron shook his head. “We do not know all things. But I know where you can find the answers.” He spoke quietly then, for Lilac alone to hear. Risk could have, if he hadn’t been down on the ground. The pegasus would never stand a chance. “In Equestria’s capital is the Royal Archives, history of all Equestria has done. Secured in the deepest wing, entombed in ancient stone, is a star that never shines. Whisper words of darkness to it, and it will open. What you find there—even I can’t say.”

“You’re letting me go?” Lilac asked, surprised. “You know I can’t hear about a mystery like that and not want to solve it.”

The fairy wrapped one foreleg around her shoulder in a brief hug. “When you return to us the final time, I want you to know the outside offers you nothing. The Good Folk are patient. Besides—we could never enter that library. You can. What you discover will serve us too.”

Of course it will. They didn’t do anything without expecting a return. “I think we’re ready to go now,” Lilac said. “If you could change us back... that would be good.”

“Pity,” Saffron said. “The stallion could’ve been civilized, with enough time. He will go wild if we release him.”

“Even so,” Lilac insisted. “Change us both back, please.”

Chapter 64: The Train

Firefly led the way from the grove, flying down into the forest below. “I need to find Dusty,” she said. “We’ll catch up to you!” And she was off, leaving Lilac and Risk to make their much slower way back through the muddy trails.

They picked a rough day to be leaving. It was still raining, with a constant downpour that soaked into much of the dirt and made the trail a nightmare. Lilac went from smelling like nectar and flowers to dirt and slime in less than a minute.

It was always tricky to get her hooves under her after spending time in the city. But Risk tripped every few steps, barely keeping himself upright. “You’re not used to being changed. It gets easier each visit, I promise. Make it out here a few times, and it almost feels natural.”

“I’m not coming back.” Risk looked intact to her—right down to the camping supplies they brought and never used. “I would if you were in danger and we had to hide, sure. But I’m not a bug, Lilac! Being that small was confusing and scary.”

He rested a hoof on her shoulder, stopping her in place. That wouldn’t bother her normally, but there was mud on his leg. “If we don’t go back to town, the investigation will realize something’s wrong. Do you really want to fight the Lightless Star? Do you think Firefly might be wrong?”

Lilac pushed his hoof from her shoulder, harshly. “About all kinds of things. But the Watcher building a spell to try and kill her to empower a different god...”

She pawed at the ground, ears folding flat. “I think I know which one. They kept both of us alive, but they don’t need both of us. It would only take one Alicorn to make regular travel back and forth between realms.”

“But you don’t think you’re really one of the True Gods,” he said. “You think you’re right, and the whole city is wrong?”

Lilac nodded sharply. “Positive. But if you’re not, you don’t have to put yourself at risk with me. You could keep hiding out here, or—go back into town without me. Hide on your own, forget trying to defend me. They won’t realize we were together.”

Risk shook his head sharply, taking another dramatic step towards her. “If I leave, you’ve got Firefly and a changeling. Those creatures that attacked Canterlot... dangerous parasites. At least if I’m there, we have a unicorn to blast him if he tries to attack you.”

Lilac rolled her eyes. “I’ve known Firefly’s dad my whole life. He’s not gonna do that. I’m more worried about what might happen if we get caught breaking into the Royal Archive. Maybe a changeling spy will help with that part.”

“We don’t need to break in anywhere.” Firefly dropped down from the trees overhead. Beside her was—not her dad, but Velvet Moon. What was she doing here? The bat didn’t land in the mud, but perched on a large branch of a nearby tree, watching them.

Firefly didn’t seem to care, smashing down into the mud beside Lilac. “I know the Equestrian investigators. I spent the night with them once, and—I trust them. More than I trust the ones who just tried to murder me.”

“You trust the investigators?” Risk turned on her, glaring. “They sent Twilight Sparkle last time. Celestia’s personal apprentice. She won’t listen to you.”

“She did,” Firefly snapped. “About lots of things! Not... every detail. We don’t have to tell her that Lilac and I were summoned here! What if we just say the Lightless Star will try to hurt us with magic, and we want protection?”

“Do you not feel any loyalty to the True Gods?” Risk asked. “Either of you. You’re the only ponies to travel to Equestria from beyond its furthest border.”

And look back there, staining myself forever. A piece of my soul I’ll never get back. “I would feel stronger about the True Gods if we know anything about them for sure,” Lilac said. “Maybe Celestia is evil, maybe she isn’t. I don’t know, but I do know that Watcher tried to kill Firefly. Whatever his reasons, that makes him my enemy too.”

Risk paced back and forth through the mud, frustrated. “So what, we go straight to Canterlot? We break into this secret library; one we don’t even know for sure is there—”

“It’s there,” Lilac snapped. “Saffron can’t lie. The Good Folk can’t lie the same way you can’t stop breathing.”

“Okay, but—” His horn flickered for a few seconds, then went abruptly out.

“Twilight lives in Ponyville, not Canterlot,” Firefly said. “I think we should go to her first, or even Rainbow Dash. We could ask them to promise not to tell Celestia about us, or maybe not even mention that part. They don’t need to know everything to help us.”

“Assuming she doesn’t figure it out on her own,” Lilac muttered. “I like getting the information first. But Ponyville is closer than Canterlot. There’s a village on the other side of the mountains, Acorn Acres. How many bits do we have between us?”

They did some counting, and soon produced the number. Enough for train tickets, not so much for starting a new life in a new place. They’d have to conserve if they wanted them to last.

“What about your dad?” Lilac finally asked. “Not that Velvet isn’t cool. But she shouldn’t get herself tangled up in all this. She has nothing to tie her to us, best to stay hidden.”

The bat drifted down towards them—then spread her wings, and changed. Risk recoiled in fear and disgust, mouth hanging open at what he saw “Ugh!”

Lilac couldn’t really see what was wrong with him. Bugs weren’t exactly good looking, but at least they weren’t demons from beyond time and space.

“It is me,” he said. Still male, though it was harder to tell with a bug. The scent was a confusing mess, not familiar. He eyed Risk warily. “You are right to fear. I am an unnatural parasite. My queen’s invasion failed, there will never be any home for me in this land. I could have had it with the Lightless Star. But not at the cost of Firefly’s life.”

Still her dad after all this, huh? Lilac nodded. “We don’t know what’s about to happen to us. We might get caught by the princess, maybe even killed.”

What about her mom? Iris Vale had never been anything but supportive of Lilac. She’d been willing to kill to protect her, if the need arose. If there was anypony in Willowbrook she could trust, it was Iris.

But that would mean going back to town. Equestria might already have its second investigation here. Coming forward to them would only be attaching her fate to a murder investigation. Or worse, implicating Iris in the killing that probably saved her life.

I’ll send her a telegram when I’m in Ponyville. We should have enough bits left over for that. “Okay, here’s the plan. We go to that town—Ponyville. Firefly and I can try to meet with Twilight, if she’ll see us. If that goes wrong for any reason, we keep going to Canterlot, and go into the library.”

“Why do we need that?” Risk asked. “Even hidden away, won’t that be the Equestrian perspective? I can already tell you what Equestria says about the True Gods.”

At least their conversation gave the rain a chance to clear. It no longer pounded on the canopy quite so energetically. The mud would still make travel a nightmare, but less wind meant Risk might not freeze if they had to spend a night out here. “What do they say? I don’t think... we didn’t cover that in class.”

“You were never ponies, but evil Outsiders that pretended to look like us, so you could infiltrate and take over. You grew in power until Celestia and Luna realized how much danger Equestria was in. They fought and killed you all, banishing the imposters back to where they came from.”

“Sounds familiar,” Dusty said glumly. “Imposters who covet Equestrian magic and try to take over. But they are not bugs. I raised Firefly, I have been with her for ten years and longer. She is no bug.”

The story had all the ring of truth about it as the one the cult whispered to her. “Sounds fake as buck. Good guys and bad guys, no complexity at all. That’s not how things ever are around here.”

How could she explain to Risk? The Fair Folk had no need to send her to read lies. “Equestria doesn’t hide a secret vault with riddles to keep their propaganda away from everypony. That story is what we’ll find in the history section. When we get to the secret part... hopefully we get better stuff. The key to stopping the Lightless Star, or what Firefly and I really are.”

“If there really are true Gods, I’d take their help over having Watcher trying to kill me and knocking my house down with a tornado.”

“I think... that was you,” Dusty said. “An excellent storm! Shame about all those chairs. I’d been collecting them for years now.”

Risk shivered, shaking the moisture from his coat. The bug wasn’t doing well in the elements either—his wings started to buzz, and those transparent fins along his back went limp. Lilac and Firefly were doing fine, but their companions wouldn’t make it.

“We can’t take forever talking things out.” Lilac thought through the trails, then picked a direction and started walking. This mountain might look like simple wilderness to most ponies, but it was somewhere she’d visited hundreds of times. Her oath of service to the breezies would keep taking her back here for the rest of her life, however long that ended up.

Only a few more days, now she decided to defy the Lightless Star. They had already shown they would consider murdering their embodied gods, multiple times.

They walked through the day and into the next, sticking to the densest parts of the forest. There was no danger of accidental discovery, not in land Lilac knew so well. In her old life, the wild would terrify her, Firefly was the Scout. Now, she felt perfectly at home in the rain.

They made camp by a river on the other side, all cramming together into Risk’s little tent. At least Dusty could change back into Velvet to save space.

The storm was gone by the next morning. They rinsed in the river, then headed into Acorn Acres with minimal wandering.

Buying train tickets without raising suspicion was a little more difficult—but then Dusty changed into a Filly Scouts instructor, uniform and all. She played the role of an overwhelmed youth leader with convincing credibility, and soon enough they were tucked away together at the back of a mostly-empty train, bound for Ponyville.

Lilac had never been aboard an Equestrian train before. The technology looked almost identical to her sparse memory of the same machines from her old world.

She wouldn’t have cared if ponies stood out front to pull them manually, so long as Lilac didn’t have to be one of them. As it was, they soon accelerated to blurring speed, riding past unrecognizable wilderness.

“Kinda looks like... other places I remember.” Firefly pushed herself up next to the window, watching a red rock desert blur past. “Those formations look kinda the same. But I guess they would, if the same erosion or whatever made them. You think Equestria looks like—home?”

Lilac was barely even watching. “Dunno why it would. It’s another world. A much, much higher world, if you believe Equestria magical cosmology. So much more magical that the old one doesn’t even rank. It’s light to our darkness. Their laws of physics have nothing to do with ours.”

She looked to the side, expecting Risk to interject—but he only snored quietly away from his chair. I’m just lucky he came. Not sure how I would live with myself if he gets hurt.

She leaned to the side, resting her head up against him. “Just... wake me when we get to Ponyville. I don’t feel much like sightseeing right now.”

If they were lucky, nopony from the Lightless Star would hit them with a magical heart-attack on the way.

Chapter 65: Investigation

Iris Vale paced nervously back and forth in the fine glass elevator, as it ascended above the streets of Willowbrook. Of course she could have afforded to remain there herself—House Vale was not instantly impoverished by the destruction of a building.

The Lightless Star would never allow her to remain away from them for that long. Iris had been on an increasingly short leash since the moment she defied his will, and insisted the imperfectly-resurrected gods be preserved.

With the death of her husband, that strictness only intensified. It didn’t matter if she was a full Witness of the Order, it didn’t matter her sham marriage had protected Willowbrook from true investigation for two decades. Her latest failure was so monumental, that Watcher would never really trust her again.

If he could somehow concoct a reason for somepony else to attend the investigator’s demand, he would have. But how could she not meet with the princess’s representative after the death of her own husband? Those events were already dark enough, and hiding from them would only make her more suspicious.

They would get rid of me if they could. But the Lightless Star would never get my family’s wealth if that happens. The Crown will take it.

The doors opened, revealing a top floor crawling with soldiers. There were at least a dozen royal guards scattered through the hall. Two stood by the elevator, weapons at the ready. At least they didn’t threaten her.

“Twilight Sparkle is waiting for you,” one said, waving her forward. “First suite on the left.”

Iris Vale dressed appropriately for the occasion. She wore nothing, and hadn’t even had a chance to bathe since the fire. If she tracked ash all over this loyalist carpet, she would count it as a personal victory.

She felt the unicorn before she saw her—a subtle glow of hostile magic in the room beyond, one that pushed against all other effects.

The suite beyond had been entirely rearranged—the usual furniture was replaced with several boards—maps of the town, none of which could be found inside Willowbrook itself. Somepony with greater knowledge had helped her make those.

In the center of the room was a desk, where Twilight sat. She was much smaller than Celestia, but there was no less intensity in her eyes. “Iris Vale,” she said, rising from her chair as she entered. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Two tragedies in one night, it’s—incredible, almost. How far can fate turn against one family in such a short time?”

Iris nodded. She had a lifetime of practice simulating emotions, and she used that now, projecting a balance of pain, anger, and confusion. How would a pony feel who actually suffered a tragedy, instead of one who took a life to defend her daughter?

“I don’t know. It strains my faith in Harmony. I don’t know what we could’ve done to deserve this.”

The unicorn’s horn glowed, and a chair levitated over to her from the wall, settling in front of the desk. Twilight sat, and so Iris did too. Most importantly, she kept up her mask.

“That is what I am here to determine,” she said. “A murder on the road, the destruction of your household. And... other disturbing events. A single structure destroyed in the very center of town, by a storm that spared every building around it. An Equestrian tutor confined in your hospital with sudden, inexplicable insanity. Willowbrook is under attack from every side.”

Iris nodded sharply. She had seen newspapers with the cyclone that tore a hole in downtown. That would seem strange enough, if it wasn’t directly over the home of the stillborn goddess Firefly. Unfortunately she didn’t have access to any of her contacts at the Lightless Star right now. She had specific instructions not to return to them until summoned.

“It feels like an attack. If there’s anything I can do to help you catch the ones responsible, please tell me. I want justice for my husband.”

Twilight settled her hooves on the table in front of her. She watched Iris in silence for several seconds. “House Vale is the oldest, most powerful family in Willowbrook. Would you agree?”

She kept her face impassive. “Oldest, yes. But I don’t feel powerful right now. Somepony is trying to destroy us.”

“You’re the first of your family to marry outside the city in five generations,” she said, levitating an old book onto the table between them. A genealogy. The unicorn had really done her research—all that in less than two days? “Not just any stallion either, but a stallion of the Celestial court. I have a theory, Misses Vale—have you heard of the Lightless Star?”

She looked nervously to either side in mock fear. “Everypony’s heard of them. But we’re not supposed to talk about them.”

Twilight nodded again. “Exactly my point, and my fear. The way I see it, there are only two explanations for what has just happened to this city. I’m trying to determine which of them is the truth.”

She settled back into her chair, watching Iris. It was a tactic Iris had seen used a dozen times before. Let the silence make a pony uncomfortable, until they were so nervous they started talking to fill the gap.

Unfortunately for the unicorn, Iris had been in politics her whole life. She started crying, sniffing and wiping away tears. It was easy enough to fake, when she had so many genuine worries to be upset about. All surrounded her daughter.

Equestria wanted her dead. Her own experiments had twisted her mind with void corruption. Her friend’s house exploded. And she had a contract with the mountain fae, maybe for years. How could one little filly get herself into so much trouble?

There were several paths back to her that the investigator might find. Keen Focus was the worst of these—nopony understood how void corruption really worked. Were her memories of Lilac still there, buried under pain? Or had she been completely wiped away?

“My first theory. Your family has been pushing against Willowbrook’s native religion for too long. Eventually you upset ponies a little too much, and they acted. You had many servants in your staff, and I know your husband trusted many of them to accompany him on trips to Canterlot. Any number of them could be working for the cult. A coordinated attack against you... the timing makes a coincidence impossible. What do you think?”

She leaned across the table, focusing on Iris. “Silence surrounds us now, Iris Vale. No word of this conversation will escape this room. Don’t fear the Lightless Star, tell me the truth. Have you been fighting them?”

Was she bold enough to lie to Twilight’s face? If the unicorn didn’t trust her now, she could create whatever trouble she wanted—she could get her thrown into a Canterlot dungeon without any evidence beyond her own word.

“My husband was,” she eventually said. “Amaranth wanted to hunt the Lightless Star wherever he found them. His investigations in the city weren’t... very successful. But he tried.”

Twilight nodded. “That may be all the answer we need. Magical experts from Canterlot Forensics are examining your home, and the carriage accident. They may be able to point us to the killer. But while they search, we’ll also be conducting interviews. Everypony who might’ve been there—your servants, family—everypony.”

Iris nodded. “We only have one daughter. My son passed early in his childhood. I fear you may not get much from my servants, even if I encourage them to speak. A shadow looms over Willowbrook, darker than any Alicorn’s wing.”

Twilight Sparkle remained silent and still for another minute, looking between something on her desk, then Iris herself. “You may be right. Getting justice for Amaranth may take more than finding who killed him. Equestria must finally take steps to unravel this cult, and free Willowbrook from captivity. Could you help me, for your husband’s sake?”

Could she? Few ponies in all Willowbrook knew more of the Lightless Star’s secret places, hidden words, and the identities of more of its members. They were her friends, colleagues, and enemies. They were behind every corner of town, inside every house.

Few of them knew her true identity. But the Watcher did. If she somehow revealed him to Equestria, her own life was forfeit just the same.

If the True Gods would hurry up and return in their glory, we could really use their help about now. But they didn’t, of course. They were trapped in realms beyond, and would only be taken back to their thrones with the help of loyal servants.

Shame they were stuck with ponies like Iris instead. “If I can. There are... places we’re warned not to go. There are words we have to say. Signs they make. Some things I picked up just living here. Everypony needs to know how to keep her head down, if she wants to keep it attached.”

Twilight nodded. She levitated something across the table to her. Her heart slowed in her chest; her breathing went shallow. She recognized it.

It was a True Tongue, one of ten-thousand dark languages that clawed up from the void. Thanks to Lilac and Firefly, this one was believed to be the language of the ancient Alicorns, returned at last. It was hard to argue with two ponies who could effortlessly read and write the same language without coordination.

“I see you recognize this. Can you tell me more about it?”

Iris took it in her own magic, holding it up. This was obviously a scribbled copy of something, because some of the letters weren’t quite right. The True Tongue of the Gods was a dense language, with letters so small and detailed that common ponies would have an incredibly difficult time writing with it.

Alicorns had no need to make accommodations to those without horns. “This is... a language.”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “An alphabet, instead of the Equestrian Syllabary. These symbols trace to no lineage on Equus. Not Yakyakistan, or the forgotten depths of Mount Aris’s hippogriffs. They belong to another realm.”

Iris could read more of it than most. She expected to find a spell description—the Lightless Star concealed their most powerful magics with this dead language. That wasn’t what it said.

In fact, much of the words weren’t decipherable to her at all, thanks to their strange context. These weren’t magical terms, but descriptions of a... dance? Something about a cute mare, outfits, flying maneuvers. It didn’t help that the author’s own thoughts were such a rambling mess.

“What is this? Magic?”

“Not this one,” Twilight said. “It came from a diary, belonging to a young mare I believe is my primary lead on this case. Unfortunately her home was the one destroyed by that inexplicable storm. Somepony is trying to keep the truth from me, Iris Vale. I am going to find it.”

She wasn’t sure what possessed her—maybe it was the recklessness that came from having her home destroyed and her daughter missing. Maybe it was some compulsion inflicted by the investigator herself. Maybe it was simple stupidity.

“Do you know what the Lightless Star believes, Twilight Sparkle?”

She shook her head. “Celestia shared a few details. Mostly she reinforced how untrue it was. A distortion of history much worse than any ever applied for her sister.”

“They believe in ancient Alicorns, the True Gods,” Iris said. “That Celestia and her sister belong to an entire race of Alicorns. For some reason, they turned against the others, banishing them to another realm.”

She tapped the page with a hoof, pushing it back across to her. “This realm, the one this language was taken from. I don’t know any secrets of Canterlot’s royalty. But whatever you know about Alicorns—it will help you against the cult. They worship the same creatures, just not the same individuals. If that... makes sense.”

Twilight was silent for a long time. Eventually she nodded, then rose into a standing position. “Thank you for your cooperation, Iris Vale. You’re free to go—just don’t leave Willowbrook.”

Chapter 66: Canterlot Trot

Flying into Canterlot was like something out of a dream.

Firefly knew she was somewhere special long before she actually arrived. As they drew closer, the number of other ponies passing in either direction in the sky increased, until a small handful filled to dozens, then hundreds of creatures. They passed entire suburbs of cloud-houses, floating over other mountains. Others passed over the fields all around Canterlot, watering the crops in a continuous circuit.

“Those are... like in the maze, but—they’re not broken,” she whispered, slowing as they passed a neighborhood particularly closely. “Ponies are actually living inside. A whole town of pegasi...”

Despite claiming he would find a body specifically designed for the trip, her father looked like Dust Storm again, not some strange new pony. There was some increased risk that would get them discovered, maybe—but Firefly would rather fly with him than anypony else.

If the cult was going to find them on the way, it could probably find her just as easily as it could him. They wouldn’t be in any more danger because of a little familiarity.

“Of course there are.” He couldn’t keep up with her, not by any stretch. But he never asked her to slow down, relying on her to notice when he was in trouble and reduce her speed.

He landed on a cloud walkway leading into town, gesturing with a wing. “There’s... thousands of little neighborhoods like this. About as big as old town, but without the farms. They all work in the weather industry, with contracts on the ground. Hard to grow pony food up in the clouds.”

As though there’s another kind. Her wings buzzed, but she didn’t let herself land, hovering alongside him instead. Somewhere below them was the train carrying Lilac and Risk. They could get a little separated without Firefly worrying. But if something really bad happened, she wanted to be prepared to swoop down and rescue her friend.

Lilac would find another way to get herself into trouble, if she had a chance. “I think I want to visit a place like that,” she said quietly. “When we’re safe, and the danger’s gone. Not right now, or...”

Her father took off, following her away. She matched his speed, leaving the town of pegasi behind. She wouldn’t get a chance to see what life was like here, not today. “You might love it here. I was never comfortable with the idea of a cloud home myself. Some tribes can’t live in them—it would cut down on potential visitors.”

And it would stop you from using other disguises, Firefly thought. She kept silent on that particular subject. There was no telling which ponies might be listening. Changelings were not well-liked in Equestria.

“Of all the places to go—” she asked, when they’d left it behind, and had only open sky around them. “Why Willowbrook? Compared to all these wonderful places. Ponyville has more love.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “The Lightless Star speaks of Celestia’s evil—but they have no idea what a real tyrant is like. A changeling queen has the power of life or death over every bug in the swarm. Obedience must be absolute, and the response to betrayal is swift. She sent scouts all across Equestria. Those she liked least—”

He glanced back the way they’d come, at the distant gloomy clouds suggesting Willowbrook far, far on the horizon. “It was convenient to be so far from Canterlot when the invasion failed.”

“You stayed with me,” Firefly continued. “Did the queen not call her scouts back? Before invading, I’d want everyone on my side. I’d want to go over everything they learned. Why did she leave you in Willowbrook?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Mostly he watched the other ponies passing on their arcing flights into Canterlot. There were more of them the closer they got. They wouldn’t have any time to themselves for private conversation before too long.

Not that Firefly minded talking to other pegasi. They might have all kinds of interesting things to say about the city. “I don’t know why I refused the order. You could say... I didn’t need love from the queen anymore. I had as much as I wanted from my friends in Willowbrook. I had you in my nest. You could say it was the threat of what the Lightless Star could do to me. What they can still do, if they think I’m alive. I really should give up this identity.”

Firefly ignored that last part. “You stayed because you loved me,” she argued. “I love you too, Dad. It’s not complicated.”

“Changelings can’t love other creatures,” he said reflexively. A conditioned, pressured response, without a second’s hesitation. “They’re parasites, consuming the love of others to survive. They couldn’t love a pony any more than you could...” he trailed off awkwardly. “I don’t actually know. There’s no equivalent. Protecting you doesn’t prove otherwise. It just proves I’m dependent on you. It’s rational to take risks to protect a food supply.”

She nudged him in the air with her shoulder. Some part of her couldn’t shake just how uncomfortable a term like that made her feel. But he was trying to be honest with her. Getting upset about his honesty wouldn’t help him do more of it.

“Love doesn’t work that way, Dad. It’s not something that each of us have in reserve and runs out each day. I can love as many ponies as I like, and I don’t have less of it left. I have more, since I’d be feeling it all the time. I love my friend Lilac, I love you, I loved Velvet too, even if we weren’t as close as some ponies. I—” She stopped abruptly. “I think River is nice, even if I wish I hadn’t dragged her to so many dangerous places.

“I even think... don’t tell him, but Risk isn’t so bad either. I wish he’d stop looking at Lilac like she’s his marefriend. But he stuck with us when he didn’t have to, and that counts for something. If I got to know Rainbow Dash better I’d like her. There’s room for an endless number of ponies, I’ll never run out. Works the same way for you. You don’t lose love by caring about me. There’s always enough.”

“That is not... the way we understand it,” he said. “You produce your own love, all ponies do. We can’t. But I do admit that... I do want to protect you. I would take steps to defend you from danger, if I could.”

“You’ve spent a lifetime doing that,” she said. “And I know... even if you have to look like somepony else going forward, you’ll still be you. I care about the person underneath; not however you look.”

They flew in silence the rest of the way. Or rather, they spoke often, but mostly to other ponies. Canterlot had so many visitors in the sky. Mail carriers, diplomats, tourists. Despite the transport network below them, she saw several pegasus families just flying into the city.

But if each of them had wings they could use, stopping to camp on clouds along the way wasn’t so bad. I could see Equestria that way. Float from city to city, making friends, seeing how different they are.

If only there wasn’t an evil cult out to kill her, so much would be possible.

They might be right about what Equestria would think. Escape was eternally impossible, and she was trapped between two implacable enemies.

If that was what waited for them in Canterlot, she would reconsider the breezie’s offer of sanctuary. Being tiny sounded weird, but at least she’d be alive. She had already been changed into one weird thing before, a second transition couldn’t be that much worse.

They did have the style and grace going for them. But giving up weather magic...

Dusty found a cloud to change in before they landed. “The Lightless Star has ponies in the city. If anyone saw what I did to help you, they might be watching for me.” But they wouldn’t be watching for Velvet, so she flew into Canterlot with another pony her own age.

He could always look like an adult if the need arose. Firefly wanted to ask how he could switch from one sex to another with such grace, when it had taken her the better part of a decade to accept her form—and Lilac never really had.

But questions like that would have to wait for when they weren’t in a city that changelings had invaded, and soldiers might be watching from every corner.

Finally Canterlot came into view below her, and she was rendered speechless. It was a beautiful city. Not the largest she had visited—at least not if her old life was considered.

Life flowed through it in constant motion. Where Ponyville had been more or less equal in size to Willowbrook, this place dwarfed it. Thousands of structures clustered on several tiers, each one carved into the mountains until they were wide enough.

They were linked by rail, by twisting footpaths, and charming wire gondolas, rising from one level to another.

“I thought Celestia was supposed to be a tyrant,” she whispered, as they circled towards the area Velvet said held the park. “Where’s the evil armies? The propaganda posters? Where’s the public executions and the starvation?”

The bat shrugged her shoulders. “They lied about all that. Ponies from Willowbrook never leave. The city makes sure they never want to. Most visitors don’t want to stay.”

“I don’t think—” But it wasn’t true. Firefly didn’t know for sure that Canterlot was any better just because it looked so bright and inviting from the air. Maybe the ponies inside were just as closed and hostile as the ones she left behind.

But even if they weren’t, could she really give up the Cumulus Maze? “Okay, there are some things I would go back for. Just makes me wish we could keep the same town, without the whole... cult part.”

Velvet pointed them towards a patch of trees and grass in the center of a humble neighborhood in the lowest district. That would mean flying all the way back up if they climbed. But since the ponies waiting down there didn’t have wings, it would be walking either way.

“There are lots of other dangers there. But anywhere with magic has dangers, Firefly. Even Ponyville has the Everfree Forest. Nowhere can be totally safe.”

“I wouldn’t even want it to be. All those times we went through the Maze together. Climbing through old buildings, racing before they crashed into Refuse Cenotaph. I never wanna give that up.”

They circled over the park a few times, flying low to the trees. Nopony seemed to think it was strange that two fillies were flying into Canterlot alone. There were so many ponies that plenty of the ones they passed were just as young as they were.

Then Firefly saw them—not in the park yet, but moving up a sidewalk through a nearby neighborhood. And good thing too considering how red the sky was looking, as sunset approached.

They flew in together from the front, so Lilac and Risk would see them coming. The two ponies looked as exhausted as Firefly herself was beginning to feel, but otherwise healthy.

Firefly landed ahead of them, grinning. “How was the ride?”

Lilac shrugged. “Productive. Uneventful.”

“Spoke to somepony about the park. We won’t be allowed to camp there. They’ll think we’re homeless... and cuz we’re so young, that could get a call placed back to Willowbrook.”

“I know somewhere cheap,” Velvet said, “that won’t ask questions. Just don’t get separated in this part of town. It’s nothing like home, but... a filly doesn’t want to be off on her own. You’ll see.”

They followed her, packing in close together against whatever danger might be waiting in the capital.

“Tomorrow, the archive,” Lilac whispered. “And the truth.”

Chapter 67: Archive

Firefly followed Septum into the Royal Canterlot Archives. With every step, she found herself increasingly nervous. Were those guards watching them? Had that one whispered something to the other? Was a telegram already going out?

There was something incredible about a dangerous mission like this when they had a changeling. There was no need to wander through the city, searching for somepony who might be willing to help get them in. There was no need to break into the building, risking arrest.

Granted, what Septum was doing now would certainly risk arrest,if they got unlucky.

“Don’t get too far, fillies,” said the mare ahead of them. Septum had captured Rainbow Dash’s likeness perfectly, right down to the multicolored mane. Shame he hadn’t met any of Twilight’s other friends in person. If these guards knew what Rainbow was really like...

But nopony did. Nopony tried to stop them from setting their own route through the building, cutting lower and lower as they progressed.

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Firefly asked Lilac, whispering to her. Risk was close enough to overhear too, but there was no way to stop that from happening. However jealous she might be of his relationship to Lilac, if he was willing to risk his own life to join them, then he deserved to be part of decisions.

“Hidden section of the library,” she whispered back. “Probably in the restricted section. If I built it, I would hide it behind as many layers of security as I could. Can she get us in?”

The archive was a busy enough place that they didn’t stand out too badly. Hundreds of ponies were here, most tucked away in reading nooks with a few titles to study. Unfortunately there were also more royal guards inside than Firefly had ever seen in one place. And probably more than she ever would, unless they had to visit the palace.

She nodded. “I think so. If anypony can. But what do we do when we get there?”

Lilac looked away. “They didn’t tell me that, exactly. Hopefully I recognize it when I see it. Something that ordinary ponies won’t notice, but will stand out to somepony looking for them. If you see anything weird, tell me. You’re from the same home I am.”

Firefly wrapped her wing around Lilac’s shoulder. “Sure. But if I was half as smart as you are, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I would help you with all your crazy experiments.” The way Risk does.

She fell silent as they reached the end of a twisting hallway, and a set of heavy iron gates. Through them was more library, not that different from the ones all around them. Only this one had a royal guard standing beside it, with a spear resting against his leg.

He was the only armed pony they’d encountered so far. Firefly’s wings twitched reflexively, as a subtle dusting of light arced along her body. Not bright enough for anyone to notice.

Except Risk. The unicorn gave her a scathing look. “Can’t you keep that under control?”

She stopped as the others did, pawing at the ground. “You try living with this much magic for a few minutes,” she whispered. “Feels like any second I might just explode.”

“Hey!” Not-Rainbow-Dash walked directly for the gate, without even slowing down. “Open it up for us? Got some work to do in there.”

The stallion jerked to alertness, glancing back at Firefly and the others. “M-Miss Dash? You want to go into the restricted section with... three foals?”

“Three of the most talented fillies and colts in all of Equestria,” she snapped back. “Twilight Sparkle sent us. Am I supposed to tell her you turned us away?”

The Royal Guard rocked back and forth, eyeing the fraudulent Rainbow Dash. “How long do you need?”

Septum posed dramatically, spreading both wings. “Have you even heard of me? We’ll be gone before you know it!”

“Right.” He leaned the spear up against the wall, then removed a keyring from his belt. A few seconds later the door was open. He stepped aside. “Please hurry. There are all kinds of forms most ponies fill out when they come here.”

“Thanks!” Septum stepped inside, waving for the others to join her. Firefly was the first to do so, not looking up at the watching royal guard. “I’ll remind Twilight to send all those your way when I get back to Ponyville.”

And just like that, they were through. The guard slammed the gate shut behind them, then locked it. There would be no easy way out if somepony did raise the alarm. They hurried away from the gate, until they were out of sight from the exit.

Firefly felt the oppressive weight of the building overhead. There were hundreds of ponies nearby, yet the sounds of their hoofsteps and quiet conversation died completely. Maybe there was magic in the walls.

“I figure we have until the changing of the guard until we raise an alarm,” Not-Rainbow whispered. “This stallion is going to mention it to whoever replaces him, and word will get around, and they’ll realize something’s wrong. Whatever we’re here to find, do it quickly. We still have to get out of the city.”

Firefly eyed Lilac, expectant. But the mare only seemed confused. “We need a star that doesn’t shine,” she said. “I don’t know exactly what that means. But we should split up and look for it.”

“There aren’t any stars in a library,” Firefly began. “Too bad those fairies couldn’t just tell us what we were really looking for.”

They spread out, scattering across the library floor to look. With every passing minute, Firefly’s anxiety grew. They really needed the information that was hidden here—but if they got caught, it would hardly make the Equestrians willing to hear them out. If Celestia found them, she might have a real reason to think Lilac and herself were enemies of the country.

What kind of dangerous knowledge hid among these old shelves? The books here were much older than in the rest of the library, broken with racks of scrolls and sheafs of parchment. Many of them had the sickening smell of real leather to them. What kind of Equestria made those?

She glimpsed the others searching, just as energetically. Lilac would be the one to figure this out, just like she figured out every other puzzle they encountered. If it wasn’t so dangerous, she might have even found a way to send them home.

Firefly didn’t want to go back to Earth anymore, though. All that dangerous magic no longer served a purpose. They were free.

“Hey, uh... Lilac? Did you see this?” She stopped in place, staring at a strange glass case up against the wall. The books inside were locked away, behind yet another layer of security. She was certain one of them was whispering to her.

But it wasn’t the book she cared about right now, it was the model.

Lilac appeared beside her, squinting up. “What, the moon? Yeah, I saw that. Not a star.”

“Not the moon,” Firefly took off with a few flaps of her wings, hovering beside the top-shelf. “This is what the moon used to look like, when we were fillies. Remember?”

“You do?”

“Not well,” she admitted, tapping against the glass. “There used to be a mare in the moon that used to be Luna, that whole thing... but look.”

She tapped one corner. “There are four stars arranged around it made of glass. Well there’s supposed to be four, but this one is missing. There’s only three.”

“Get me up, I wanna see!”

Firefly considered trying to hold her up—but that would take some intense flying, and make a lot of noise. Instead she landed on the ground, dropping one shoulder. “Climb up. Just try not to put too much weight on me with those hooves.”

While she did, the others reappeared—Risk, wandering down from a neighboring row. “Rainbow Dash” wasn’t far behind, with a book tucked under her foreleg. Was her dad actually interested in what it said, or did she just want to look busy?

Firefly grunted in pain as the pony stood there. Earth ponies were not light, even a willowy one like Lilac. At least she wasn’t a stallion. “Risk, Rainbow Dash—please back up. Get far enough that you can’t hear me.”

“Not her?” Risk eyed Firefly, annoyed. “You don’t have to keep secrets.”

“I’m not,” Lilac said, pleading. “But last time you were exposed to something like this, it messed with your memory. Nothing will happen to Firefly, she’s from the same place as me.”

Septum closed one wing around Risk, backing away with him. “We don’t have time for an argument. Let them work.”

Firefly looked up at her friend. “You think you have to cast some kind of... dark magic on it?”

Lilac nodded weakly. “It would have to be something so obscure that nopony could use it by accident. So it—” Then she froze, and her voice changed. Firefly could still understand her, though it took some concentration to keep the words clear in her head.

She wasn’t even entirely sure her mouth still worked to speak to them, anymore. “Charlie and I have come all the way from Earth,” she said. “Let us in, please.”

As strange as the language sounded to Firefly’s pony ears, she was still just talking, right? What difference could that make?

A lot, as it turned out. The shelf rumbled, then slid to the side, revealing a dark staircase in the wall. Lilac hopped down off her shoulder a second later, looking relieved. “That could’ve gone worse. I was sure it would make me—but it didn’t. Guess Princess Celestia wouldn’t have a sympathetic connection to the void, she couldn’t open it that way.”

“What are you talking about?” Firefly asked. She stretched, rolling her shoulders to loosen them. She just wasn’t built to have the weight of another pony on her shoulders, even a relatively light earth pony.

But her friend was already setting off down the stairs, apparently unconcerned with the near-total darkness within. Firefly winced, waving the others back over. “Come on!”

Not a moment too soon, either. The bookcase began to retract, sliding back almost as quickly as it opened. Septum and Risk barely made it through before it settled heavily into place behind them.

“Can’t believe Equestria has something like this,” Risk said. “There’s a hidden section in the Royal Archive.”

Rainbow Dash vanished in a flash of light, replaced with Velvet Moon. That made her fit better in the tight quarters, but that probably wasn’t why she’d done it. It was so dark down here. “If you think this is the only secret Princess Celestia keeps, you’re a particularly naive little pony. No ruler stays in power for over a thousand years without skeletons in her closet. Where else would she bury them but in her capital?”

Risk lit his horn with a feeble red glow, like the last ember smoldering from a fire. “I know what the Lightless Star says about her—about killing the True Gods. But then they tried to kill Firefly, so... I’m not sure anymore.”

Velvet sighed. “The Lightless Star are a pragmatic hive. They’re prepared to spend any resource that brings them closer to their goals, even lives. The ritual that brought Lilac and Firefly here in the first place—they knew ponies would die. Nopony knew the toll would be so high. But they paid it. Dozens of ponies dead in one night. It was the greatest defeat in our history, until....” She eyed Firefly. “I wonder if we killed the Watcher.”

“I hope so,” she answered. “I didn’t get a good look at him through all those veils, but what I saw—I’ve seen a demon before, and I think he might be worse. Mostly dead, all gross.”

The stairwell wound down into the dark for what felt like hours. Lilac led the way, her tail faintly visible against the gloom. The dark didn’t bother her the way it did Firefly, huddling close to Velvet for company.

But then they came to the end, and an old stone archway. It opened into an enclosed cavern, far larger than any room in the Royal Archives. The walls were made of crystals, each one bigger than a pony, in at least a dozen different shades of pink and blue.

There was only one shelf, at the far end of the room. It held books, but not like Firefly had ever seen them before. They were made of silvery metal, hammered paper thin and held together by more metal rings.

As Lilac stepped into the cavern, light began to glow, as soft as moonlight but stained purple. It came from an opening in the cavern floor, one apparently filled with dark water swirling ever-downward.

“A low-place,” Lilac whispered from its edge. “Wider than anything in Willowbrook.”

Chapter 68: Alicorn Record

Firefly followed Lilac through the doorway into the strange cavern. She kept to the cavern’s edge, staying far from that dark water. There was no telling what would happen to any creature who fell through it, but she knew she didn’t want to find out.

“A low place,” she said, her voice echoing strangely in the cavern. “I remember you mentioned something like that before. We need it for... spells that looked back at—”

Her friend had said the word not long before, to open the secret passage. Try as she might, Firefly couldn’t force it out. She struggled, before dropping to one knee, hoof against her head. “Home,” she finally said, defeated.

“Canterlot wasn’t always the Equestrian capital.” Lilac crossed swiftly to the other side of the cavern, keeping away from the opening in the ground. There was far less fear from her than Firefly felt. But she knew the magic far better, too. “Before Luna’s fall, it was inhabited almost exclusively by unicorns, who created some of the most advanced magic in the world.”

As she got closer to the opening, Firefly felt—cold. Far worse than the weight of the ground overhead, something about that hole crushed the magic from her. Her wings jerked against her sides, and any flicker of lightning died. There would be no calling a storm down here.

“You’re saying this room is a thousand years old?” she asked.

Lilac shrugged. “Probably much older.” She finally reached the bookshelf. It wasn’t wood, but made from stone, reinforced with spurs of crystal in the same shades as the cavern around them. There was no paper anywhere, only the books it held.

Two of them, made of the same silvery metal shining with the light flickering up from realms beneath Equestria. Lilac tapped one with her hoof. “This is platinum. They needed something that wouldn’t rust, tarnish, or fade. Can you lift them down for us?”

Firefly took off. It felt a little like flying through slime. She reached the shelf, then gripped the first of the two books and lifted. It barely budged. “Ugh... this thing is heavier than you are. Stand back!”

Firefly stopped holding back, opening both wings to their full span and flapping with desperate, frantic energy. Feathers scattered from around her, along with a thin layer of ancient dust. She slipped her hooves around the first book, then slid it backward.

She didn’t have to hold it up, only lower it down slow enough that she didn’t break the priceless, ancient record.

It was a near thing. As soon as the weight was released, she dropped like a rock. Between the incredible weight and the pinhole in reality a dozen meters away, she dropped the record with a noticeable thump of many metal sheets.

She collected herself, took a few deep breaths, then lowered the second one, a little more successfully. She landed beside it, chest rising and falling rapidly from the tremendous effort. “Damn Alicorns and their... being so tall.”

it took a long time for her breath to come back to her—so long that by the time she sat up, Lilac already had one of the metal books open. It took an effort of precision with her hooves to turn thin metal pages obviously not meant for somepony without magic.

There was no ink on these pages—instead, somepony had pressed into them by stylus.

“Can you read it?”

Lilac nodded, not looking up. “Check on the others. Make sure they’re okay.”

Right, they weren’t alone! Firefly had barely even thought about their companions until then—Risk and her dad were with them. But where were they now?

She found them waiting in the open stairwell. Risk sat on his haunches, eyes locked on the opening in the floor. Violet lay beside him, facing directly away from the opening.

She considered staying to study the other book, but dismissed that thought quickly. Her best friend wasn’t just smarter, she was also much better-versed in ancient lore. She would do far better prying the truth from this text.

She crossed around the Low Place with just as much care as the time before, but even greater discomfort. There was no denying the subtle gravity it had. When she passed closest to it, Firefly could feel her hooves slipping.

It took far longer to make it back to the doorway than it should have, minutes of intense effort. “Are you two alright?” she asked, still breathing heavily. “Lilac wanted me to check on you.”

Risk shook his head once, but never made eye-contact. “I feel eyes in the dark. There’s a fault in the foundation, an opening in the gate. It calls.”

“Don’t answer.” Firefly stood directly in front of him, braced one hoof on his shoulder, and pushed. He slid backward until he touched against the steps.

Then he blinked, staring at her. “How are you just standing in there? You can’t even cast spells, you should be more vulnerable.”

She shrugged. “It’s awful... worse than the mines. But there’s something familiar about it too, like a weight I had to live with for my whole life. I can do it. Lilac can do it. I think you two should back up, until you’re feeling better.”

She turned, looking at her father. Violet’s mouth hung open, her eyes as wide as saucers. But she wasn’t even looking into the room, instead fixated on a patch of blank ground.

Firefly wrapped one wing around her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Septum? Can you hear me?”

She twitched once, then looked up at her. Her eyes were bleary, like she’d just woken from a dream. “Here was your home, when you had sight.”

It was no pony language she spoke—it was more English, harsh on Firefly’s ears. Meanwhile, the bat’s body was cold and shivering, even though the cavern was a comfortable temperature.

“Septum!” she yelled, much louder now. “Septum, wake up!”

The bat opened her mouth again, but no words came out. That was all the sign she needed. “I think changelings are worse at resisting this than ponies are.” She slid her neck under Velvet’s foreleg, then lifted her onto her back, walking back up the steps.

Risk followed, dragging his hooves a little on the steps. But at least he was moving on his own.

“Dad, do you need me to take you all the way up?” she asked, as soon as they were around the corner. Some part of her still thought the whole concept was strange, speaking to somepony she’d thought was one of her friends a week ago.

Shouldn’t it be harder to adapt to her father’s true identity as a formless creature, constantly shifting between bodies?

It wasn’t. The bat blinked, and her eyes finally seemed to focus. “Firefly? Where are we going?”

“Up here.” She continued for a few more steps, until she no longer felt the strange pull of gravity. The stairs were still dank and confining, carved directly from the old stone, and barely lit by Risk’s little red glow. But none of that should hurt a changeling.

“Don’t go any lower,” she said, depositing her on the steps. “There’s something down there that’s hard for you. Risk, can you keep an eye on her?”

The distance helped him to recover, too. “Sure. Don’t leave Lilac Empathy alone, okay? She’s brilliant—the smartest pony I’ve ever met. But she has a hard time with consequences. Help her get what we came for, then get out.”

She touched his shoulder with a hoof. “Thanks, Risk. We’ll go as fast as we can.”

She took off, galloping back the way she’d come. When she emerged at the bottom of the steps, Lilac was exactly where she’d left her, hunched over a strange metal book. She was much further than the last time. She didn’t seem to notice Firefly’s return, not until she tapped her on the shoulder.

“What does it say?”

She looked down herself, eyes settling on the book. It was incomprehensible to her, symbols she’d never seen in Equestria before. It didn’t even resemble the written language they had taken such a painful time to learn.

“They were real,” Lilac answered. She sat upright, lifting her hoof away from the metal pages. “They’re not called the Old Gods in here. The first hooves to press against the grass, travelers from impossible stars. They searched forever for a world until they found one. It was perfectly ordered, a landlocked wasteland without an atmosphere—and they brought chaos.”

Firefly slid to the side, until she was between her friend and the Low Place. She opened her wings, shielding her. “It’s a creation myth?”

Lilac shook her head. “No. This isn’t just a record, it’s instructions. The spells they used are here—spells to alter a planet’s orbit, spells to pull in comets, to pull minerals from the rock, to force volcanism... it’s a spellbook, Firefly. A spellbook so advanced I can barely make sense of it.”

She flipped through the pages rapidly, and Firefly forced herself to stare. As she did, she saw some glimpses of familiar things. There were a few of the runes Lilac used in her spells. Most of them weren’t runes at all, but complex numbers, creating equations that Firefly herself could never fully grasp.

“You’re saying the Lightless Star was right after all? There were... ancient Alicorns, who made the world instead of Celestia and her sister. It’s real.”

“It’s real,” Lilac agreed. “I would need months to pull apart most of these spells. Even the commentary is strange. The way it talks about Equus—none of it sounds right. Like the sun.”

She stopped on one page, this one showing a distinct diagram of a solar system. Except that the distances were all wrong. Even an elementary-school student from Earth would’ve known that. “They knew they needed a source of light and heat for the planet. But they didn’t have enough hydrogen for a star, so they...”

She tapped it, mouth hanging open. It took a little prodding from Firefly to get her talking again. “It’s like a giant... magical spotlight. It orbits the planet, and doesn’t waste any of its energy on the rest of the system. Because there’s... barely any system at all. Just the moon there.”

She flipped the page, showing a much closer view of Equus and its single moon, together. Only from this angle, the moon didn’t look like a moon should, but another disk, a simple mirror poised to catch the magical sun’s light.

“I think ponies... understand this stuff, on some level,” Firefly whispered. “Everypony talked about how Celestia raises the sun, and now Luna handles the moon and stars. Even with as powerful as Alicorns were, the idea that they could move a star just seemed... silly.”

“There aren’t any stars here, Firefly.” Lilac’s eyes were wide now, almost as bad as Septum’s had been. “The travelers liked stars, and they liked a moon, so they made them here—chaos they understood, imposed on this place. There was barely even enough for one planet. They made the rest with magic, copying where they came from.”

Firefly never would’ve believed a story like that, except that her friend sounded so absolutely certain. If she could trust anything from Lilac, it was her ability to understand magic.

“I think we’re... reading the wrong book, then,” she said, pushing on Lilac, pointing her towards the other book. “All that magic about how Equus was made is beyond us. We need to know what happened to the Alicorns, remember? We’re trying to stop the Lightless Star.”

“I should’ve stopped reading before you got here. But the magic in there—it’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen. It makes Starswirl’s first thesis look like it was written by a little filly. With a copy of this book, I could do—anything. Change my body to give myself a horn, change a pony’s age, their sex, repair broken memories, rewrite their true name... anything. This is the recipe book for Equestria’s reality.”

Even Firefly felt the temptation nagging at her. There was so much power here, but also so many questions waiting to be answered. What were the Alicorns, and where had they come from that felt so familiar? They’d taken a world of forms, and given it a sun, a moon, stars, and a planet very much like her home.

“Maybe one day, Lilac. But my dad says the Lightless Star has magic that can attack us from far away. Unless you can learn enough while we’re down here to stop that from working, we have to put that aside. We need to know what happened to the Alicorns. I don’t like how much the cult was right about so far.”

Lilac finally looked away from the book. In a way it seemed to draw her attention more than the Low Place behind them. “I could be fast, but not... that fast.”

She rose, then walked along with Firefly over to the second of the two ancient records. She turned the first page, then the next, with Firefly watching along. But just because she had a good view of the page didn’t mean she could actually read what it said.

Lilac accelerated, flipping page after page in rapid succession. She stood up, squinting down with growing panic. “It can’t... it has to be here.”

In moments, she reached the final page, and tried to turn it. There was nothing beyond.

“I don’t...” She looked up, eyes wide.

Firefly held her with a wing, the same way she’d done several times before. “It won’t be less true if you don’t tell me. I need to know too.”

“No!” Lilac flipped back through the pages, this time in reverse order. There was no way she could possibly be reading them all that fast—but maybe she hadn’t the first time. “It’s not what you think! Firefly, this doesn’t say anything about the Alicorns!”

Firefly’s wings snapped open in surprise. The movement came slowly, but then everything did when she was in here. Keeping important magical books in the secret magical library was one thing, but how could anyone study them next to that awful hole?

“It has to be something!” Firefly squeaked. “It’s a secret book made of platinum hidden underground! You said that first one was all about how to make a world! What’s in this one?

Finally Lilac reached the first page. She sat back, looking away from the book. “Ponies who know call it Abaddon—the Void, Abyss, Outer Darkness. This is a map through it.”

She pointed at the first page, and Firefly leaned forward to look. Most of it was meaningless magical information. But there was a solar system there, pressed into the metal. A star, eight planets, each one familiar. “Recognize this?”

She nodded. “Why is that the first page?”

Lilac looked away. “It doesn’t say. There aren’t explanations for any of these places, Firefly. Directions for how to get there, displacement in time and space. No wonder that scry was so hard the first time. But I don’t understand—this was supposed to have their history! It should tell us what happened to the other Alicorns, why Celestia supposedly betrayed them, who they were—”

Noise came from the stairs. It might not be the first, but this was loud enough that Firefly turned. How much longer had it been? Was Dusty okay?

Light exploded into her vision, blinding against the perpetual flickering gloom of the Low Place. She recoiled, shielding her eyes with a wing.

It made little difference. This wasn’t just bright, it was an overwhelming wave of magical strength, standing under the sun and noonday. This was far more powerful than any unicorn—and more dangerous.

When it finally faded, she saw an Alicorn standing over them, her horn glowing with powerful magic. “There’s no record because I remember it,” Princess Celestia said.

Chapter 69: Exile

An Alicorn princess stood above Lilac Empathy, her horn already burning with a powerful spell. Lilac couldn’t tell what it was—she lacked the senses to read runeless unicorn magic. But she had no reason to suspect it would not be lethal.

Everypony in Willowbrook who knew what she was all said the same thing. If Celestia found them, it would lead to instant, painful death. Lilac reached out, wrapping her foreleg around her best friend, and holding on tight. At least she didn’t have to die alone.

She didn’t die at all, at least not in that moment. The princess was still there, with Firefly’s wings open wide, trying in vain to shield them both. As though feathers could protect them from a spell like this.

Lilac tried to speak, but she couldn’t look up into the light without feeling a sudden, searing pain in her head, and quickly looking away again.

“We—mean no harm to Equestria,” Firefly whispered. Whatever pain attacked Lilac clearly wasn’t bothering her friend. Either that, or she had a far greater tolerance for discomfort.

“If I thought otherwise, we wouldn’t be speaking.” The books levitated up off the floor, returning to their place on the shelf. Lilac watched them move, longing for the secrets that first one had contained. Even half an hour reading it had taught her things about magic she never could’ve imagined.

If she lived through the next few days, Lilac’s magical study would take an exponential speed-boost. Her mind swam with ideas that just dared her to explore. Even if none of them were as powerful as what the ancient gods had done, the same principles could still be used.

“You do not belong here. You look like little ponies, yet—how? How are you here?” She raised a wing before they could answer, silencing Firefly’s nervous squeak. “You remain conscious beside the Void. Where did you come from?”

Firefly tried to answer, then dropped to the ground, whimpering with pain and clutching at her head. But Lilac was not so constrained. She spoke. “The planet we come from is called Earth. I think the world we came from is... very different than yours.”

Celestia followed Firefly with her eyes, but didn’t move to comfort her. She remained out of reach, her horn glowing with power that somehow remained undimmed by the opening in reality. Or—no, it was draining her. But the princess had so much power she could fight through it far better than they did.

Lilac felt the Low Place the same way she might an all-nighter, making her ache with tiredness and slowing her thoughts. She could still fight—she had to.

“Different than Equestria,” the princess said. “Tell me about those others waiting outside? Are they your... servants? Cultists? What have you done to them?”

That cut through Lilac’s tiredness. “He’s my friend!” she shouted, finally looking directly at Celestia. She must be adjusting to the heat, because it didn’t burn her anymore. “I’d never hurt him. We’re here because—it’s... a lot.” She bent down, helping Firefly stand again.

Her friend was actually bleeding from her nose. Where red blood struck the rock, it was drawn away from them, down towards the Low Place.

“Tell me anyway,” Princess Celestia insisted. “It has been thousands of years since any creature has arrived here. We made a covenant that the simple creatures of this realm could develop without our interference. Luna and I were to be the only protectors left behind. Why have you violated that oath? Did you think to escape my gaze by seeming so small and helpless? I see the magic you constrain, the force unwielded. Your deception could never fool me.”

“We’re not trying to deceive you, or anyone Princess, we—” Lilac felt the heat building, magic growing more intense. Princess Celestia was not feeling patient. She could be pushed only so far before she decided to answer with hostile magic.

She’s not the princess the Lightless Star told us she is. But she’s not as peaceful and understanding as Twilight either.

“We came here against our will,” Firefly said, desperate. Even if she lacked the same experience with magic as Lilac, maybe some part of her sensed the danger they were both in. “Years and years ago, when we were just foals. But the more we saw of the Lightless Star, the more we wanted to fight them. We came here hoping to find a way to save... my dad, Lilac’s family, our friends—to stop the Lightless Star.”

Celestia’s horn stopped glowing. She focused on Firefly, intention burning . “How is this possible? You stand beside the naked void, pony. You carry the magic of a dozen ponies, more. You say you didn’t travel here willingly? But what kind of Alicorns are you, to be wandering beside a dead star and scorched rock?”

Lilac tried to answer, she did. But nothing made sense, and the harder she fought, the harder it was to speak. She wasn’t supposed to be fighting against an Alicorn, she should be in class, or inventing spells, or helping patients, or—there were so many lives, they all blurred together.

What she really wanted was somepony to hold her again. Risk could do it, and he would actually understand what she said. He’d come with her despite every danger, even when she turned against his faith.

She started to cry. She wasn’t sure where it came from—but there was no way to stop. She broke down, clinging to Firefly with all her strength. Her friend held a little stronger than she did—for a few seconds, anyway. Soon her voice joined Lilac’s.

She was helpless, terrified, and defeated. Of all the places to meet with the pony who wanted them dead the most, why did it have to be here? The secrets of the Lightless Star should’ve just been there for them to read, so they could study, then save Willowbrook.

Princess Celestia, sun tyrant, ruler of all Equestria, betrayer, watched them for a few seconds. Lilac couldn’t see her clearly through her tears. If the princess was going to kill them, hopefully she did it painlessly.

Magic flashed around her, a spell so precise that Lilac could sense nothing of its nature. It lasted only for an instant, an overwhelming flash of light.

When it faded, so did the pressure of exhaustion, the overwhelming magical lethargy that kept her nearly-paralyzed. She looked up, blinked away the confusion. She wasn’t underground anymore.

The walls were still stone, but a lighter variety, the kind that built the fine homes of Canterlot’s streets. They stood in a sitting room, with old wood furniture and wide glass windows. Lilac could see blue sky beyond, and rooftops.

And other creatures too. Risk and Velvet were both here, resting on the sofa. Neither of them moved, though Risk at least opened one eye to watch. He endured the process better than the changeling, then.

“That was an awful place to have a conversation,” Celestia said, walking past them to a cabinet against the wall. “One moment, I’ll make tea. But cast no spell, and make no move from this tower, or I will release the magic you now confine, and send your souls to join the dead of Equestria.”

If she were less of an emotional wreck, Lilac might be carefully memorizing everything the princess said. Even if she didn’t mean to, Celestia’s words revealed secrets, a perspective that no pony before could give her.

Iris Vale always told Lilac what she thought was true, but her vision too was cloudy. She had only the cult to teach her, with much that was unknown. Nopony in Equestria knew the truth of what had happened to the ancient Alicorns—but most ponies neglected it, while the cult only told them what would serve.

Firefly sniffed, wiping the tears away with a wing. She let go of Lilac, glancing around the room. “She didn’t kill us,” she whispered. “I told you. Everything they taught was a lie.”

Even at a whisper right into her ear, Lilac knew the princess would overhear. There was no chance they could hide anything from an Alicorn. All this time they lived with the ponies of Willowbrook calling them goddesses—this was the real thing.

“I’m glad,” she said. “Since they tried to kill you. It would be bad if they were right.”

Celestia didn’t react to their conversation, just poured boiling liquid into several cups, seeming focused on her task. “Take a seat, ponies. I’ve called for my apprentice, but she may take some time to arrive. I have yet to make up my mind about the two of you. These next few minutes will decide what I do with you.”

She turned, levitating a tray of tea ahead of her. Lilac hurried over to one of several cushions arranged around a low table. At least she had Firefly for company, settling into the cushion beside hers.

She set the tray down between them, then sipped at the glass, as though she hadn’t just threatened them with death several different ways.

Maybe the Lightless Star wasn’t completely wrong about this princess.

“How did you know we were here?” Firefly asked. She took a glass with her wing, somehow drinking from it without spilling. She grinned at the taste, sipping loudly. “We didn’t make a scene, or hurt anyone. Lilac knew the password to get in.”

“Ancient homeworld,” Celestia agreed. “But imagine the Chief Archivist’s surprise when Rainbow Dash of all ponies decided to appear out of nowhere and ask for the forbidden section. The ancient lore of pegasi is in Cloudsdale, not this library.”

Her eyes flicked to the two resting creatures. Septum’s eyes remained closed, her body curled in sleep. Risk had one eye open, and watched their conversation in silence. “I have my guesses of how you did it. But that is not what we are here to discuss.”

She set her cup down, watching Lilac. “Drink, little pony. Now.”

Her eyes widened, but she reached forward just as Firefly had. Her friend seemed unchanged by her experience—her cup was empty, and she eyed the kettle longing for seconds, but not daring to ask.

Lilac took her cup, then drank. It was warm and refreshing, her first sip of something wholesome after the cold darkness near the Low Place.

Then it hit her stomach, and she felt a sudden wave of sickness. The world warped and distorted, and she clung to the table for support. She felt something growing along one leg—green creepers, which wrapped themselves in spirals, all the way to her hoof. Little pink and blue flowers appeared on those vines, the same ones she’d seen around the Good Folk’s fine homes.

And something else. Around the other foreleg, a rusty metal bracelet, with chain trailing away after a few links.

“W-what did you do to her?” Firefly asked, growing bolder. “Was there something in her cup?”

“I suspect she knows what I’ve done. You, filly, your name is Firefly, isn’t it?” At her nod, she continued. “Twilight mentioned you in her report, and I see her assessment of your character was accurate. Take another sip. Here, let me refill your glass.”

Firefly did so. As Lilac watched, she saw her friend change too—her hair grew longer, a blue and yellow uniform appeared, holding tight to her body. A few badges joined it, along with goggles in her mane. She posed on the cushion, spreading both wings.

“I’m a wonderbolt?” Firefly asked. A flower appeared in her mane, a much bigger version of one of Lilac’s own. Then her ears flattened, and the illusion vanished. “I'm sorry, princess. Lilac Empathy is the one who knows magic. I’m just... confused.”

“I see the ties that bind you,” Celestia said, sipping her tea. “I expected an ancient one, secret survivor of Homeworld’s desolation. I see instead... what my apprentice saw. A promising young filly, eager to make her place in Equestria. You may rise, Firefly. Join your friends on the couch, and wait for Twilight’s arrival. Your judgment is finished.”

Firefly did rise, and she made it halfway from the table before she stopped, then turned. Her eyes met Lilac’s, overflowing with confused tears. She made her slow way back, and draped one wing protectively over Lilac’s shoulder.

“I can’t leave her, Princess. We came here together—whatever happens to her, happens to me.”

Any minute Lilac would see the furious anger this princess was known for. She had a lifetime hearing Iris’s warning, and here Firefly was openly defying her.

“Don’t do this,” she whispered, through the tears streaking her face. “Firefly, she let you go. You’re free.”

The filly didn’t move. She faced Celestia directly, and didn’t budge.

Awkward silence stretched between them. The princess poured herself another glass of tea. “Tell me what those mean, Lilac Empathy. The ties that bind you. You too lack any tether to the Homeworld, or sign of ancient wisdom concealed. Explain yourself.”

She couldn’t hide from her choices now. If the sun princess wanted to kill her, then a loyal friend would do little to change her mind.

She lifted her right foreleg, the one covered in flowers and vines. Lilac wasn’t afraid of this oath, and she wouldn’t take it back. “I swore to the Good Folk of Snowdrop Mountain,” she said. “They’ve taught me the magic of the earth, the names of every flower and the season of every wind. They’re... eccentric, maybe. They can be territorial. But they wish no harm for Equestria.”

She lowered her voice, looking down. There were so many living plants in this sitting room, potted trees and flowers in a dozen varieties. The Good Folk were probably listening right now.

“If they got their way, I would’ve stayed there, away from all this. They think ponies are—fleeting, and shallow. They want me to be one of them instead.”

Celestia said nothing—her expression remained unreadable, and one hoof tapped against the table. At least she didn’t interrupt. “Breezies escape memories and lifetimes by confining almost none of Equestria’s magic. That is not what I fear.”

Lilac looked down at her other leg, ears folding behind her. Of course she’d already known what would bother the sun princess.

She lowered her leg, and the illusion vanished from it. Then came the metal chain. It must be her imagination, but it felt as though it grew tighter with every second it remained on her leg. Any moment now it would break the skin and she would start bleeding on Celestia’s carpets.

At least she didn’t have to face Celestia alone. Her friend was there for her to lean on. So much for Lilac being the one to get them home. But she couldn’t think about that, or else drown in guilt and wait for Celestia to kill her.

“I tried to scry the place I came from. Succeeded, but... brought something here. The investigation you sent to Willowbrook, you were hunting for me, and maybe the demon that followed me.”

“But she killed it!” Firefly added, defensively. “It didn’t hurt anypony, we beat it together before it could get loose!”

She was crying again. No matter how hard Firefly fought for her, she couldn’t make that lie into the truth. “Not nopony. It hurt me. It took my name—the one you don’t remember. I know yours—Charlie. But you don’t know mine, because it’s gone.”

Princess Celestia remained frozen for a long time. Lilac would’ve thought that time itself stopped moving, if she didn’t feel the tears trickling down her face, and see the sun slowly descending in the sky.

Not a real sun. A ball of magic, simulating one for this tiny planet in a sea of almost-nothing.

“And the reason a void-touched mare was breaking into the archive, studying the spells the ancients used to organize Equus?” She folded her hooves on the table between them. Her horn glowed again, and Lilac felt the pressure of magic against her. This was a truth spell, the same flavor that Iris had once threatened her with.

But coming from the Princess of the Sun, it would probably burn her to ash if she failed to be honest.

“To learn the truth about the ancient Alicorns that the Lightless Star worship,” Lilac said. “We didn’t know there was a spellbook here. I wanted a history, something that we could use to see their weaknesses.”

She gestured over her shoulder, at their not-sleeping companions. “The Lightless Star is powerful in Willowbrook, Princess Celestia, maybe more than you think. They use sympathetic magic to trap each of their followers, to kill them if their loyalty ever wavers.”

“And that bat right there saved my life a few days ago,” Firefly said. “Not to mention that the Watcher tried to kill me too. Otherwise, we might just run away, live on the other side of Equestria and hide forever. We don’t want to change anything, we just wanted to be left alone.”

I couldn’t leave Iris. She’s still back there, with the cult. The thought of her name made Lilac’s heart ache. If she couldn’t have a boyfriend to hold her right now, a mom would be just as good. Maybe better, considering how badly she’d screwed up today.

Celestia sighed. Her mane stopped glowing quite so brightly, and her wings seemed to sag. “You aren’t here to destroy what I was left to protect. I have many more questions, and I assume that you do too.”

“One that matters more than the rest,” Lilac said. “The whole reason we were in your archive in the first place. What happened to the Alicorns? The Lightless Star thinks you and Luna betrayed them, but that doesn’t seem true. The Good Folk don’t think you did. I don’t think you would’ve kept their records if you did.”

The princess spread her wings, staring down at Lilac in silent contemplation. But whatever judgment she was considering, she clearly decided against it. “They finished, pony. Their work was done, and they left, traveling to another realm recorded in those ancient records.”

“But not you?” Firefly prompted.

“My sister and I… volunteered. We would remain here in exile, to protect the ponies here from threats they could not overcome on their own. Occasionally we might nudge them in small ways, helping them grow into beings like us. We knew it would take many lifetimes. But my sister--she was young enough that she remembered no realm but this one, and volunteered. I stayed to give her wisdom.”

She closed her wings again, looking away. “That is enough for now. In time, every question will be answered. You are welcome to Equestria, Firefly. To take that privilege for herself, your friend must sacrifice. But not now.”

Celestia rose from her seat, turning to go. “My apprentice Twilight will be here soon. She will find a place for you for the next few days. I’ve looked aside from the Lightless Star for too many centuries. With your knowledge, we will finally end that threat at last.”

Chapter 70: Sympathetic

The next few hours passed in a blur for Firefly. In many ways, visiting here was a luxury unlike anything she had experienced before. How many ponies would get a chance to visit the royal palace? Of those, how many thought they would spend their lives as fugitives in Equestria, ready to be executed the instant that Celestia discovered them?

A lifetime she spent in fear, a lifetime for nothing. Princess Celestia was a harsh ruler, one who probably would have killed them if she thought they were a danger to Equestria.

Firefly wasn’t. She passed—she was welcome to stay. Thinking that still seemed hard for her to believe, and she expected somepony to come around and disabuse her of that belief at any moment. Celestia would reappear, announce that she had reevaluated the judgment, and that Firefly was an unwelcome intruder in the realm.

There could be no complete joy for her and Lilac Empathy, not yet. If only Lilac had postponed her scrying attempt a few more weeks—but then none of this would’ve happened.

The Lightless Star still had the power to strike against them from afar. Just as frightening, Celestia was not done evaluating Lilac yet. Whatever she decided to do to the mare, Firefly would insist she suffer too.

They weren’t out of the woods yet.

At least Celestia was taking the first threat to them seriously, the one posed by the cult. She didn’t remain behind to deal with it herself, but soon enough the unicorn she promised appeared in the tower. She explained the situation privately, then vanished off to whatever it was the ruler of a planet did when she wasn’t interrogating intruders.

Twilight Sparkle stopped in the doorway, surveying the room. By then all four ponies were awake, sitting together by the couch. Septum still looked like Velvet, though Firefly suspected that Celestia knew exactly what was underneath.

Twilight might not, so that was the third item for her list of dangers. The unicorn made her slow way inside, eyes settling first on her. “Firefly. I’m not sure what I should feel about seeing you again. My friends and I came to Willowbrook, and we trusted what you told us.”

“I never lied,” Firefly insisted. “I told you about every danger I could! Doesn’t that count for something, even if I... wasn’t brave enough to defy the Lightless Star?”

Twilight made her slow way into the otherwise empty room, looming over her. “Nopony would expect a filly to stand up against the Lightless Star, particularly when they had so many weapons to use against you. But you should’ve told me about your friend.”

Her eyes settled on Lilac, expression unreadable. “If I met her sooner, I could’ve started helping her back then. At least one pony has been hurt thanks to her. A tutor, Keen Focus. She was with her on one of the Vale airships. Is she responsible for the murder, too? Amaranth Vale... her father.”

Her friend withered at those words. Twilight Sparkle might not be threatening her with death the way Celestia had, but she was no less hostile.

“She didn’t!” Firefly said, confidently. “I was there, I can tell you about it. But Twilight—we’re in danger. Even in your castle, the Lightless Star can hurt us. If you want us to last long enough for your questions...”

She whimpered, unable to look directly at the unicorn anymore. Her best friend was in even worse shape, though—somepony had to stick up for her, and that pony was Firefly. Her friend would do the same for her if she could.

Celestia didn’t accept her. That has to hurt.

Twilight pawed at the ground. “Right. There are defenses we can make against sympathetic magic. They will take time to put in place. But not in Princess Celestia’s tower. Follow me, all of you. Unless your friends aren’t in danger.”

To her surprise, Velvet spoke up, hopping down from the bed. “Firefly is in the most danger, they already tried to kill her once. Then me, if they think I’m still alive. Lilac they will want to take alive, I know what the Watcher wants to do with her. Little Risk isn’t in danger—he’s too young to swear his first oath yet. The Watcher doesn’t have any of his blood. These two would be safe, if they weren’t... the ancient gods we called.”

Twilight rounded on her with renewed intensity. “You don’t look older than he is. Why are you in danger, and not him?”

Firefly closed her eyes, mouthing one last desperate, silent plea for the changeling to stay quiet. Septum ignored her, and changed... into Dusty. Twilight gasped. At least she didn’t blast him into paste.

“I see.” She sighed, tone exasperated. “I see I’m over my head and completely uninformed. Fantastic. Everypony stand next to me, then. You can explain this entire mess to my friends and I once you’re safe.”

She spared one last look for Dusty as he approached. “If you try any invasion stuff, I’ll blast you out the window.”

Firefly scampered over to him, standing protectively beside Dusty. “He won’t! If it wasn’t for him, the Lightless Star would’ve killed me! He loves me, and I love him.”

“I didn’t know a changeling could do that.” There was another flash, and they were somewhere else. Judging by the fine stone and expensive wood paneling, it was probably somewhere else in the castle. Instead of a well-furnished tower, this was completely devoid of furniture, with a floor of gray slate. At least it had plenty of windows, out into a beautiful Canterlot under the setting sun.

There was so much out there to see and do—she could probably spend weeks here exploring it, and barely scratch the surface of what the city offered. Once we’re safe and the cult is gone, maybe I can stay for a while. I don’t have a home to go back to anywhere else.

Twilight’s horn flashed again, and a heavy case appeared on the ground next to her. It unzipped in her magic, revealing a spellcasting kit not too different from the one Lilac carried. There were a dozen different colors of chalk, measuring tools, a length of twine, and stranger things Firefly had no names for.

“Alright everypony, don’t leave this room. This is a complicated spell, I want you right here when it’s finished. Don’t step on anything I draw. Lilac Empathy, how about you step outside, find a guard, and ask them to get a cook’s assistant in here. I assume everypony wants some food. Except the changeling—I guess you don’t have to get anything.”

She levitated several pieces of black charcoal out of the bag at once, and started drawing with each of them, recreating in moments what Lilac would’ve slaved over.

Her friend hesitated near the door, eyes wide. “You’re sending me? I thought Celestia didn’t trust me. Thinks I’m d-dangerous.”

Twilight shrugged, but didn’t look up. “When I took my magical kindergarten admissions exam, I turned my parents into plants. Dangerous doesn’t mean bad, it means you need somepony to teach you.”

She set the charcoal down, looking up. “You looked beyond the Outer Gates. But you put yourself between the monster and your town. That’s not what a bad pony does, it’s what a mare does who’s gotten in over her head. You’re more than your mistakes, Lilac. We’ll get you through this, if you can learn.”

She whimpered, then started crying again. They’d been doing that a lot lately. “C-can I... can Firefly come with me?”

Twilight shook her head sharply. “The changeling thinks she’s the most in danger, I trust the spy. Take your other friend. Don’t get lost, the castle is bigger than it looks from the outside.”

Lilac shot Firefly a pleading look, but Risk hurried over, nudging her. They left together, wandering out into a richly carpeted hall.

For a few minutes Twilight drew in silence. Her father found a place to sit near the wall, watching. Firefly thought about joining him, but her curiosity was too great.

She found somewhere just beside where Twilight was working, and sat down to watch. She could make no sense of the spell itself, not the way Lilac could read runes and diagrams like a second language. This was like watching a master artist in her craft, working quickly but not slowing to sacrifice the quality of her masterpiece.

“I was going to visit you,” Twilight said, without looking up. “It’s not many ponies who keep a journal in First Tongue. Can you read the language, or did you just make a phonetic key for the symbols?”

“It’s an alphabet, so it’s already phonetic,” she said. “I didn’t make the key, I grew up speaking it. It’s definitely not the first language ever—I think maybe that’s B—” She coughed, struggling to get the word out. She was ultimately unsuccessful, and just shook her head.

Most ponies didn’t notice when she ran into one of her mental roadblocks. Twilight Sparkle stopped her spellcasting completely, turning her horn on Firefly. “What just happened to you? When you were saying that word.”

Firefly’s usual “headache” excuse bubbled to the top of her mind, and she dismissed it just as quickly. If she were anywhere else, speaking to anypony else, she probably would’ve used it.

Twilight might be one of the few ponies in Equestria who actually knows what’s happening to me, and how to cure it!

Even explaining took careful concentration from her, with her head always on the edge of another pounding headache. This was an obstacle course she had navigated many times, but usually with Lilac. “It’s been this way since I got to Equestria. I... can’t say some words. Places and names from my home, mostly. Talking too specifically about how I got here, or where I came from... hurts me. If I try to force through it, the pain is... awful.”

Twilight brushed her mane with a hoof, then lifted her head upward. “Can you try for me? Try to say one of those words, but don’t push too hard. Let me see it happen.”

Her horn started glowing, and soon that glow spread to Firefly’s entire body. The thought of fighting against her compulsion was enough to turn her stomach, her mind conjuring all the memories of her previous attempts.

She tried anyway. “The place I come from is a planet called E—” Her body shook, and the word died on her lips. She dropped to one knee, covering her mouth with the other, and fighting back vomiting. She held her stomach in, though it was a near thing.

“That’s enough.” The glow stopped, and Twilight looked up. “Somepony put a foal under a Geas.” She turned back to her work, muttering to herself. “That entire town is rotten. Houses burning down, a murdered constable, dark magic used on little fillies. That’s evil.”

Firefly took a few moments to recover. She wiped the sweat from her brow, then stood again, still feeling weak. “Can you fix it?”

The unicorn nodded. “We have bigger problems right now. Whatever pony can cast a spell like that without turning your brain into a pile of slime—can definitely attack you with sympathetic magic. If they have a piece of you, something from your mane or—”

Dusty started screaming. Firefly spun, forgetting her pain. Dusty reached for her, his hooves shaking. His pony illusion vanished, replaced with the bug she’d seen lost in the clouds above Willowbrook.

Only this one collapsed to the ground, convulsing. He tried to speak, but nothing approaching language made it out of his mouth. He said I was the one most in danger, but he’s wrong! The Watcher didn’t just want to kill me, he wanted to use my death to make Lilac into a real Alicorn!

Firefly flew to his side in a flash, taking one of his legs with both of hers. There was nothing she could do.

He’s going to die right in front of me.

Chapter 71: Twilight Sparkle

Charlie watched her father fight for his life, powerless to do a thing to help.

She'd seen accidents before—in a life long ago, she'd been walking when a drunk driver went straight into a tree. She'd been the one to call emergency services—and the one at the scene when they cut the poor man out, and tried in vain to save him.

Perhaps there was something analogous here, in the way Septum had willingly made an oath with evil to make himself vulnerable in the first place. But Firefly wasn't in any place to deconstruct what happened, not while one of the people she cared most about in the whole world was attacked.

Unlike that driver, Septum didn't have to wait for help to arrive. Twilight was already here. But her efforts weren't going well. Twilight struggled, levitating a dozen different chalk pencils at once, while focusing something else on the levitating changeling.

Firefly didn't want to look, but she couldn't look away. It was as though unseen hands constricted around Septum's throat, slowly strangling him. Every breath was a struggle, his eyes bulging out and drool trickling down his face. Every few seconds his horn flashed, but evidently his attempts to transform weren't working either.

“Lilac...” She turned, tears streaming down her face. At least she wasn't alone. “Lilac, can't you do something? You know all kinds of magic, right? That's your whole talent!”

Her friend bounced nervously back and forth on her hooves. “I don't... Twilight probably knows better than I do...”

“Maybe!” Firefly snapped. “But I don't think that matters! He's dying! Please, you have to do something!”

It was all coming true—the exact death Septum had imagined as soon as he fled the cult. He had saved her life, knowing this was the price waiting for him. Agonizing death from afar, with nothing he could do to stop it.

Finally her friend nodded, and darted over to join Twilight.

Charlie listened to what she said next, but none of it made sense to her. A few technical, magical-sounding things, along with terse gestures. She half-expected the unicorn to send her harshly away—but that didn't happen.

Instead, Twilight dropped her chalk to the ground, turning all her attention on Septum. The changeling began glowing brilliantly purple. He gasped, taking a deep breath.

His voice came out ragged, racked with coughs. Even so, Firefly made out her own name.

She approached cautiously, remaining several strides away. She wanted to take his hoof, even if he looked like an alien. She might not look as strange, but Firefly knew she was just as foreign to Equestria. How could she be disgusted?

“I... sorry,” he gasped. Each word cost him. Despite Twilight's magic, he was still struggling for breath. “I've lied for... loved you. Made me feel like... I was a real pony. I... love you.”

“I love you too.” She watched his face, long enough to see that he'd heard. But then he collapsed, and said no more.

She probably shouldn’t interrupt Twilight's concentration. The mare was the only one keeping her father alive at this point, and maybe not for much longer. But she couldn't wait in silence. “How long will this last?”

While she spoke, Lilac drew. She wasn't as fast as the unicorn, not with her levitation to draw multiple runes at once. She was still moving quickly, chalk in her mouth and head to the ground. She was practically sprinting with it, somehow drawing straight lines one moment and perfect curves the next.

“Until he... dies,” Twilight whispered. She spoke slowly, eyes focused forward. “This is... some of the darkest—burns the victim's own essence. Caster... knows his true name, has his blood... have to put him into...” She shook her head, eyes focusing back on the changeling.

Firefly retreated, getting out of their way. She wanted to help, wanted to save the changeling herself. But there was nothing for her to do now but wait and hope.

Until the moment Lilac completed her diagram. Twilight inspected it, then there was a flash of magic, and Septum vanished, reappearing in the center. The spell ignited with the same lavender as Twilight Sparkle's magic, burning so powerfully that it briefly overpowered the sunlight coming in from outside.

Then it faded. Septum stopped gasping, settling to the ground as if asleep. The diagram continued to glow, pulsing every few seconds as though to a heartbeat.

Celestia's apprentice slumped onto her haunches, breathing a sigh of relief. Despite her obvious exhaustion, there was deep satisfaction on her face. “Not today,” she whispered.

Lilac retreated from the spell-diagram, spitting out the chalk. Firefly darted over to meet her, though she kept her distance from the diagram. She knew enough about spells to know that damaging the marks might end whatever protection Septum had. “Did it work?” she asked. “My dad doesn't look like he's breathing.”

Lilac nodded. “That's the point. The only way to stop the spell killing him was to freeze him. Then somepony has to find the vial of blood they're using and destroy it on the other end.”

“It's—not actually frozen.” Twilight ran one hoof through her mane, straightening it. “Not even Princess Celestia can cast a perfect stasis spell. It leaks a little time out the edges. But instead of taking minutes to kill him, it will take days.”

She stared forward blankly for a few seconds more, looking past Firefly more than at her. Then she twitched, lurching to her hooves. “I can't believe what the two of you just saw. You're fillies.Thank Celestia you sent the colt away before this happened.”

“Little Risk could've helped me,” Lilac said. She sounded a little shaken, but nowhere near the pegasus. She wasn't the one who'd almost lost a father. That happened a few days ago. “We know what we're doing.”

Twilight glanced over at the diagram, and the pony resting within. “Your competence is—remarkable. I'd never expect a pony without a horn to master so much. I'm impressed.” She gestured to the door, and it banged open. “There's nothing more we can do for the changeling. Let's get you somewhere safe.”

Firefly didn't follow them out of the room, not right away. She lingered beside the spell diagram, looking in at the frozen changeling. “I'll save you,” she promised. “I won't leave you like this, Dad. We'll save you.”

He didn't react, didn't make any sign he'd heard a word she said. Firefly felt a little better anyway. And if we'd gone anywhere else, Twilight wouldn't have been here. Lilac couldn't save him on her own.

If she was waiting for more proof that Equestria was right, she had it now.

The next few hours were a blur to Firefly. She followed Twilight through the castle until they reached an upper-story guestroom. Twilight left them there, with a promise that she would be going elsewhere to continue working on how to save Septum. And them too, though she didn't say so directly. Maybe she didn't want to scare them.

There were more servants waiting for them in that wing—some with nurses to poke and prod them and make sure they were healthy—others to wash them in a luxurious bath. Firefly was so physically and emotionally drained that she barely even felt embarrassed about bathing together with a pony she found attractive.

Then they rejoined Risk in a large bedroom with three beds along the wall, and suddenly she remembered again. How could she not, with the desperate relief she saw from Lilac when she met Little Risk near the door for an intense embrace and several seconds of whispered conversation.

Firefly didn't even catch the name of the pony who introduced herself as their caretaker after that. She wore a Canterlot castle uniform like the others, and spoke in a nervous whisper. “Miss Twilight informed us that she would be returning tomorrow morning. I suggest you get a good night's rest before then. If there's anything you need during the night, go ahead and ask.”

She walked past them into the center of the room, then gestured. “The restroom is that way, and the balcony is through those doors. Can we trust you not to fly off on your own, miss Firefly? Or should I have it locked?”

“I won't leave my friends,” she snapped, without thinking. “You'd have to lock it if she had wings. But she doesn't.” And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do to help.

“Well then.” The mare circled back to the entrance. “Pull on this if you're in need during the night. Somepony will be there—if not myself, then some other pony in the staff. You're not permitted to leave, but if there's anything else we can do for you, we will.”

Nopony asked for anything. They let themselves out, then shut the door gently behind them. They were so quiet about it that Firefly almost didn't hear the lock click.

They remained in silence for almost a minute, gathered together on the plush carpet. It was Firefly who finally broke it. But how could she not, when it was her dad who was dying. “What do we do?” she asked. “What's the plan?”

She didn't even know she was crying until she felt a light touch, wiping the tears away. She should've smelled Lilac coming, but she couldn't through the thick floral scent on her own coat. “I don't think there's anything we can do,” Lilac said. “Equestria knows. We've told them everything we can. Unless you know where the Lightless Star moved their secret hideout, I think we have to leave this to them.”

Another hoof touched her shoulder. Risk was gentler than Lilac, as if afraid she might attack him if he got too close. Firefly's wings opened reflexively, but she didn't shock him. Yet. “I heard about your dad. I'm sorry... I hope they can help.” He looked away. “Hoping Equestria will help, it barely feels real. You're the True Gods, they should've killed you.”

He lowered his hoof, turning back to Lilac. “What did you learn? We got caught because of this, I hope it was worth it.”

“Getting caught saved my dad,” Firefly snapped. “They were never our enemies. If we'd gone to them years and years ago, maybe they could've fixed this sooner.”

“Maybe.” Lilac walked away from her, over to one of the beds. She touched the covers with her hoof, slow and longing. The weight of exhaustion on her was tremendous.

Firefly felt some of that herself, but less than she expected. Her father still needed her—she felt like she should still be moving, probably rushing to whatever secret place the cult was hidden. She'd kick over their vial of stolen blood, then burn all of them for good measure. A thousand royal guards would follow her through the door, and the threat would be over at last.

“We learned... strange things,” Lilac finally said. “We are from the same place as the original Alicorns. They were real—they made this place by copying our home. Only better—they fixed some things we were cursed with by random chance, made the best home they could.”

She hopped up into bed. As she did, the lights overhead switched slowly off. Not electrical—metal grates rotated, covering glowing crystals beneath, until they were cast in gloom. Not total darkness—that glow made the ceiling light up, speckled with hundreds of little glowing stars. They looked accurate,at least as accurate as Firefly could judge.

“It was all real?” Risk prompted. “The Lightless Star told the truth about you? The True Gods are real, and you're two of them! Did the library say why the Tyrant betrayed them?”

Lilac opened one eye, watching them. “She didn't. They went somewhere else—not back to where they came from. There's some... I'm not sure exactly, but I think something happened with time. They might've been from our future, even though they're in your past. Celestia didn't attack them, they weren't betrayed. The library... didn't mention here at all. She might have to tell us that part herself.”

She closed her eyes again, rolling to the side. “Now you two need to rest. Maybe they'll stuff us with dessert tomorrow, or maybe we'll be running off to fight the Lightless Star ourselves. Either way, we need rest.”

Firefly nodded absently. Somewhere deep down she still felt tiredness, buried under layers of deeper pain. Maybe taking some time to rest would make some of that go away. Either that, or maybe something would come to her while she slept.

She remained alert enough to watch as Risk went off to his own bed. Lilac had chosen the center bed for herself, so she couldn't make sure they were more widely separated. But given how intense their day had been, she probably didn't have to worry anything silly would happen.

She found her own bed soft and warm, nicer than anything her family had ever owned. She curled up alone with the pillow. She was getting too old to be asking for her father to comfort her when she got scared, anyway. She was supposed to be grown—twice, almost.

No part of growing up had prepared her to fight an ancient cult. She flopped onto her belly as usual, so she wouldn't have the weight on her wings. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Then Risk was snoring. Lilac was more graceful, but soon she was sleeping too. Firefly just drifted, never quite feeling relaxed enough to sleep.

Somewhere out there was another world—her world. Somewhen far away, godlike beings had come from there, made a whole world to look like theirs. Then they left. She didn't know why, maybe nopony did. Nopony except Celestia, who the Lightless Star thought had betrayed them. That explained their ancient hatred of the sun princess.

It felt as though Firefly should have all the pieces by now—but somehow she couldn't fit them all together. Like her puzzle was upside-down. She knew she had the pieces, but how could she get them to connect?

Firefly tossed and turned, searching for the answer that would save her dad. She couldn’t find it.

That meant she was still awake about an hour later, when the lock clicked quietly, and the door swung open.

Chapter 72: Rage

Firefly froze, utterly still in the dark space. Shapes moved through the room, silent in the night. But one of her wings was up, uncovered in the comfort of the castle. She felt the air playing against her feathers. With no windows open and the air perfectly still, she could feel it all so clearly.

There were two creatures in the room, adult sized and moving quickly. She saw them only as thick shadows against the faint light from behind. Firefly felt rooted to her bed, suddenly overcome with fright. Who would be sneaking into their bedroom in the middle of the night? This was Canterlot Castle, how had they even gotten inside?

Somepony else tapped against the door, a series of three purposeful clicks. The door swung open, and this time she heard hoofsteps. Two more ponies, moving much less quietly than the first. The more they moved, the less clearly she could sense their movement in the air. They were spreading out, which meant at least one of them was probably close to her.

Something settled on the floor with a thump—one of the huge dressers. Firefly's heart raced faster and faster, her breathing accelerating. She needed to do something! Whatever was happening these weren't their friends! No pony working for the princess would need to sneak in like this.

No matter how fast her heart raced, Firefly remained glued to the bed. She should scream, or buck out with all her might, or do something. But what good could three little ponies really do on their own?

“We don't have much more time,” whispered a voice, barely into her ears. “The guards change in another two minutes, Dire. Which one is the earth pony?”

“Get them all if you can,” came another voice, a little louder. Firefly opened her mouth to scream, but the strength didn't come to her. “We'll find a use for—”

“Help!” Risk screamed. His voice was shrill and echoing, resounding off the vaulted ceiling. “There's somepony here, we need—” Then everything happened at once.

Firefly opened one eye, just in time to see a pair of ponies coming down on her with an oversized cloth bag. They both had dark bat-wings instead of feathers, which explained how they'd moved so quietly.

Firefly had already been trapped once; she would not let them grab her again. She didn't even think about what happened next—her mind reached desperately for open sky, and she found it waiting for her. Outside was limitless energy, the weather of a whole planet.

This time there was no spell containing her—every window in the room exploded at once, showering the interior with glass. The balcony doors smashed across the room, striking one of the shadowy outlines and sending them flying into the wall. The net landed squarely on Firefly anyway, toppling her momentarily sideways, and snapping her wings to her sides.

She flailed around on the ground, blind to what was happening. She heard a grunt from Lilac, but nothing at all from Risk now. An alarm rang from outside, and hooves pounded down distant hallways.

Somepony tried to lift the bag she was in, and Firefly yelled a second time. But she couldn't spread her wings, not with the fabric so tightly around her sides. There was something strange about the cloth. The skies were open now, their power raging untapped, yet somehow still out of reach.

She screamed in frustration, trying to get her hooves under her. Then someone gripped the back, tossing her sideways. “Which one is in there?”

“Something's growing, look at the floor!”

“Onto the balcony! We have to leave, now! If either princess hears this—”

Someone dragged her across the floor. She smacked into a wall, recoiling in pain. She felt a lip underneath her, and suddenly there was tile underneath, and a chill wind passing through the bag. It wasn't much, but it was enough. She spread both wings as far as she could, filing the bag with a growing dark cloud. It stretched to its full size, straining the stitches.

Lilac was many stories off the ground, far from her power. Firefly had no such weakness. “Fly!” somepony yelled. “They're coming from the walls!”

Somepony hefted the sack with Firefly a second later, struggling to get it over the railing. But it was so swollen now the fabric caught, resisting the attempt. “What is she doing in there?”

“No, don't—” The bag uncinched, and a face appeared. The barrier separating Firefly from the sky vanished.Lightning erupted from around her, followed by a blinding flash and terrible roar of thunder seconds later. Her prison tore itself apart, in the same instant her captor went careening off the balcony and into the void.

Wind whipped around her, ripping up entire tiles and bits of decoration. Power raged in her chest, fighting for release—but there was no one there. She hovered over an empty balcony now, with the wall behind her completely imploded. There was a single pony on the ground in the bedroom, crumpled against the far wall and moaning in pain. It wasn’t Lilac, and it wasn’t Risk.

She flew up, cutting across the sky. She left a trail of angry sparks behind, gathering dark clouds in her wake. But where she flew, she found no sign of the enemy. No bats in flight carrying heavy cloth bags between them. As to the streets—there were thousands of homes, a whole city spiraling out in all directions. Even at this late hour, there were hundreds of shapes moving down below.

“Where are you?” she shouted into the dark. There was no reply. “Lilac, say something!” With no clear destination, Firefly flew in a circle, barely even conscious of the other watching ponies. There had been only a few at first—but as her search went on in vain, they were soon joined by more. Dozens of sturdy-looking creatures, wearing purple armor. Their wings were dark and silent against the night sky and gradually setting moon, just like the creatures that attacked her.

But these were no clandestine invaders. They wore Equestrian banners, and aside from the color their armor was a familiar design. They didn't get close to her—instead they put themselves between Firefly and the city below.

They're afraid of me, she realized. Either her, or the dark clouds gathering behind her. What had been a clear night was rapidly transforming, as rain appeared practically from nowhere. The stars faded as an ocean of gray settled around her, soaking everything in all directions.

Firefly stopped circling. The storm didn't care at that point—as before, she'd already given this one all the power it needed just by calling it here. Dispersing that power once she got the inertia in place—she hadn't learned that part yet.

I don't think any of our lessons at Whispering Willow were supposed to teach us this.

“Excuse me!” a voice called through the wind and rain, somehow perfectly clear despite the incredible energy. “Young pony! I'm sure the population of the fair city below us would be quite grateful if you don't pull down a million gallons on their heads!”

Firefly turned, and saw another pony hovering there. She wasn't riding the storm like Firefly did, but floating in active defiance of it. Wind whipped around her without reaching her feathers, taking the moisture of rain with it.

She was much taller than Firefly herself, or almost anypony else she'd ever met, with dark blue feathers and a dark black splotch on her flank. Firefly knew her by her cutie mark, the same as everypony in Equestria probably did. “Princess Luna?”

The Alicorn was less incredible and frightening than her sister, perhaps. But compared to ordinary ponies, the difference was academic. She approached slowly, cutting through the air more than flying the distance. While her soldiers fought the storm, she simply ignored it. “And you—my sister spoke of you. You're one of the fillies rescued from Willowbrook. Why did you rip a hole in my sister's castle?”

She whimpered, looking away from her. “There were—ponies attacked us.” She gestured weakly off into the storm with one hoof, in no particular direction. She could easily get her bearings from the landmarks under Willowbrook. But she hadn't flown over this city enough to know which direction was which. She couldn't even point towards home.

“My best friend—she couldn't get away. Took another unicorn too—off that way. I tried to stop them—but I couldn’t.”

“That is... dark tidings.” The princess hovered close, within reach this time. “They penetrated into the castle itself?”

She nodded again. “We th-thought we were safe. How could they—don't you have guards? Septum was right... the Lightless Star can reach anywhere in Equestria it wants. There's no spell powerful enough to keep them out, no walls high enough. Anything they want, they can take.”

She sagged in the air, snapping her wings closed to either side. She fell only a short distance, to a waiting patch of dark cloud. Firefly wasn't sure if she'd called it there, or the princess had—but she didn't much care anymore.

How much more could she lose? Her home was a crater, her father was dying, her only connection back to Earth would probably be next. Even Risk was probably halfway to Willowbrook by now. “I'm not strong enough.”

“We will see.” The princess waved her back towards the castle, insistent. “You've brought quite the downpour for the capital. Let's speak somewhere dry.”

Firefly followed her exalted escort to the nearest flat surface atop the nearby castle. Most of her escort broke off from there, though a small group moved in close, following their princess. They kept their distance from Firefly, but not so much that she couldn’t hear them.

“What kind of pony is that?” one whispered. “Look what she did to the sky.”

Firefly didn’t have to look—she felt the downpour on her wings, now that she wasn’t actively manipulating it to keep it away.

The princess nudged at a fallen stone pillar with her hoof, then looked down at Firefly. “I sense substantial power in you, Firefly. How many lives did it cost to summon you to this world?”

Firefly stared back, far too confused to give a proper answer. “I have no idea what that means,” she said. She landed beside the princess, but kept her wings open. “My friend Lilac Empathy—she was the one who understands magic. We should rescue her; she can tell you.”

The princess’s horn glowed brilliant blue, and she circled around her once. “At least... six. Those who burrowed through the fabric, rending themselves in the process. Their spirits depart, but their magic endures. And more...” She stopped just beside her, nudging her wings wide. “They tried to do something to you, didn’t they? The well... continues to fill, never overflowing. Do you know why?”

More guards appeared from the other doorway, finally bashing through the wardrobe blocking the door. They stepped in, then came to an abrupt halt almost as quickly. Whatever they were waiting for inside the bedroom, it wasn’t the smoking crater they found. “I don’t,” she whimpered. “We have to find my friends!”

Luna shook her head slowly. “You aren’t understanding me, Firefly. You hold the concentrated power of many pony lives—you are an endless reservoir, a barrel with no bottom. Do you understand what the Lightless Star would do, if that power fell into their hooves?”

“Lilac is already there!” Firefly argued. Maybe it was the more casual way this princess spoke with her, or maybe it was just the urgency of the situation. She couldn’t be silenced by the Alicorn’s intimidating aura. There was too much at stake! “Whatever I am, she is too! We came together!”

The princess turned away from her. Familiar faces appeared in the doorway—Twilight Sparkle, and several of the servants caring for her. “The Lightless Star misunderstand our history. They reach into Abbadon, into an infinity of unmade worlds. I do not know what miracle allowed them to pluck you from it—but it will not happen twice. With one of the Ancients for their conduit, not even Discord could imagine what they’ll dredge.”

Firefly took off. It wasn’t her wings that lifted her, not exactly. She demanded to be lifted, and so she was. “They already have one!” she yelled. “They took Lilac. Are two apocalypses so much worse than one?”

The royal guard stumbled backward from her. A few drew their weapons again, stepping protectively between her and their princess.

Luna waved them off. “Where will they take her?”

There was only one answer. “Willowbrook.”

Chapter 73: New Queen

Lilac woke in darkness. She wasn’t sure exactly how long she had been there, only that her body ached, and she couldn’t see anything. She barely understood how she’d gotten there—an attack in the dark, Risk screaming, then something grabbing her. She had been awake enough to struggle for a few minutes, squirming in the bag.

Until the pony carrying her explained that they were thousands of feet up, and they would drop her if she kept fighting. Lilac abandoned her design in that moment, conserving her strength. The bag was made of something strange, tough enough to resist her first few seconds of fighting.

But Lilac was already high up inside the castle. Once they were in the air, her magic was almost entirely strangled.

She cried for a while, but didn’t move much from that part on. Breaking free of her confinement wouldn’t do her any good if she fell to her death soon after. What would Saffron think about this? she wondered. The Fair Folk would consider this attack another obvious example of how uncivilized and cruel large creatures could be to each other.

She must’ve fallen asleep at some point. More likely, there were drugs or magic involved, because her head still felt foggy.

Is anypony coming to help me? Iris was a powerful unicorn in her own right, with substantial knowledge of the Lightless Star. But she’d already made herself into an enemy of their leader once. If they realized Septum was responsible for Firefly’s survival, they would probably know to keep her far away from whatever they were planning for Lilac.

She didn’t even consider that anypony else might be her kidnappers. Nopony else in the world could possibly have the reason to try such a bold attack, in the center of Equestrian power.

The Lightless Star was desperate, desperate enough to move against the princesses in their own palace. How many cultists had that taken?

More importantly, what could have them pushing so hard? Was it Amaranth's death?

She could've kept spinning on hypotheticals for hours, maybe days. The place she'd been given for a prison was so dark and featureless it offered her no distractions. Four stone walls, one metal door covered in markings. She couldn't see well enough to read them, but she could guess what they would be. A channeling spell, meant to contain any power used to break out of the cell so that it was stuck inside.

They had to know how dangerous she was otherwise.

With a little more time, maybe she would try to craft her own spells, maybe trick somepony to stumble into them and make her escape. But that was when she heard hoofsteps coming down the hall.

Someone reached her. There was whispering, and a gentle shifting of metal. Then the door ground open, painfully slowly. It rotated just far enough for a pony to squeeze inside. Light radiated in along the floor, illuminating an unfamiliar face.

They wore a mask, like high-ranking Witnesses usually did. They were joined by two Inquisitors in sturdy leather and metal armor, with their distinctive frowning masks. She didn't recognize the voice.

“Lilac Empathy. The Watcher wishes to apologize for holding you this way. But we do not yet understand whether you were a prisoner in Canterlot, or somehow deserted from the cause.”

All three of these ponies were unicorns. Their horns all glowed, not just the light spell that the speaker was using. They had magic ready, maybe even expected her to fight.

So Lilac stepped slowly into the opening, without trying to run, or making any other sudden movements. I don't need to fight them all on my own, just survive long enough for rescue.

“I thought we were your gods,” Lilac said, defeated. “You summoned me across the Iridescent Veil, from where the True Gods were banished. Don't you care what I have to say?”

She squinted, but couldn't even see their ears behind the robes. There was no way to know how her words were affecting them.

“You are god-to-be,” said the center. “Alicorns ruled us. Until you inherit your throne, your view is as fallible as ours. And besides, we know Alicorns can betray each other. History is filled with sorry examples. So our loyalty is not to you directly, but your kind.”

Lilac nodded absently. Of course they would say something like that. But how confrontational was she willing to be? Would they stop and argue with her, wasting precious time?

“I want to know what you've done with Firefly and Little Risk,” she demanded. “Are they in other cells?”

Hesitation. They shared a nervous look, with eyes that darted even behind imposing masks. It didn't matter what they said after that, she knew. Somepony wasn't here.

Risk might not be important enough to capture. Or they didn't send anyone fast enough to catch Firefly, and she got into the air.

It all happened so fast; Lilac knew she couldn't trust her own memory.

“They will not be attending tonight,” said the leader. “I'm sorry, Lilac Empathy. Whatever you understand in your incomplete state, I must share foul news: the Lightless Star has run out of time. The tyrants and betrayers know of us now, and mobilize to move against your worshipers. If we do not act quickly, we will be destroyed, and there will be nopony to restore you to your thrones.”

He backed away, gesturing with his horn. “Please, come forth, and follow us to the Watcher. We have been working tirelessly to excavate, gathered all the ponies of Equestria who still answer to the Old Ways. I don't know the details, but I know you will be restored to your throne in glory.”

Lilac remained firmly where she was, rooting her hooves to the spot. She was surrounded by stone here, and whatever sealed her into the room was broken with the door open. Magic poured through her, then out into the rocks again. Roots did not reach so deep; nothing grew down here. But she could feel other life—bats in distant caverns, thousands of insects continuing in the delicate balance they'd created for themselves in this artificial habitat.

Maybe they would come for her, if she asked urgently enough. She knew all their secret names, as only the Fair Folk could teach.

“Did you know there is a Low Place below Canterlot Castle?” Lilac asked instead. “Celestia keeps a secret library of the ancient days, written in a language I can read, but you can't. I know where the Alicorns came from, and where they went. I even know why, if I don't understand it. It's not the reason we thought. They weren't betrayed, they wanted to leave. They had good reasons.”

One of the guards hissed something under her breath. Her horn flashed, and something struck against Lilac. She felt the flash of magic against her mind—a stun, commanding her to sleep. Lilac would not sleep, not with the earth all around her. These rocks were older than any pony who lived, they resented the excavation, boring holes and ripping out their guts.

They lended Lilac their stubbornness, and she was not moved. “That's very rude,” she said, keeping all four hooves squarely on the ground. Each one was a conduit, filling her with power. “And kinda sad. Overwhelming an earth pony like that won't work. That's a second-order nervous-system suppressant. But I'm conscious, and surrounded with rock. Do you think this place likes having you here? It worked hard to bury the hole, but you tore it open anyway.”

Lilac could not feel the plants and growing things. She felt the stones instead. The rock was a little like a living thing, with bones of ancient metamorphic stone and veins of eroded limestone. Would it move for her if she asked, the way plants did? Would it grow for her?

Their leader was a little more composed than the Inquisitor. “I don't know what you found, Lilac. But I know you found it with the Sun Tyrant. For all you know, it was a carefully-constructed ruse, meant to deceive any of her own kind who returned and found their sisters and brothers missing. An Alicorn might be able to see through her ruse, but you lack most of your power.”

“Or their patience,” Lilac said flatly, glaring up at them. “You've made a mistake bringing me here. I know what you tried to do to Firefly—you won't be able to lie to me about your spells. If you attack me, I'll kill you. If you try to trick me into becoming a blood-sacrifice, I'll kill you.”

She glared coldly out of the cell. “You kidnapped me from a mountain while I slept. We are underground now, Lightless Star. I'm very much awake.”

They inquisitors shot each other another look. She could feel the fear in the way they moved, even if she couldn't see or smell them directly.

“Perhaps you would like to see your friend after all,” the masked cultist said. “The child Little Risk was rescued from the castle along with you. He is with his father even now, waiting for the coronation. Would you like to see him there?”

Lilac glowered at the Inquisitors, then stepped forward out of the cell. They retreated from her, blocking either entrance. Lilac took each step carefully, watching the ground under her hooves. For all she knew, there were backup measures in place, some plan to contain her if she got out of control. She had to stay alert.

“What about Firefly?” she demanded. “Didn't she earn her place? Or was she not as important? You did try to kill her.”

“Her body,” the leader snapped. “Your essence is eternal. With her power, you would already be on your throne, releasing your brothers and sisters to rule over Equestria forever. Her shortsightedness took the lives of her loyal servants, and revealed us to all Equestria.”

Lilac said nothing to that. She continued out of the cell, and found what she expected waiting outside. They were in a wide, narrow corridor, supported by ancient wooden supports. There were plenty of hooks for lanterns, though none were occupied.

Cyan Mines. They excavated the Low Place.

“Come with me,” the leader of the small group said. “Others you know will be waiting there. The pony responsible for this is here too. The one who couldn't keep her husband under control. Do you want her to spend her life in prison for her murder? Many other ponies you know will be punished, when Equestria brings down its hooves on our secret places.”

She followed the small group through the tunnels. They traveled downward, always down, along confusing, twisted corridors, looping and curving back on each other. She soon lost track of the path they'd taken to her cell.

At the same time, she wouldn't be trapped if she had to escape. The stones themselves knew the way to the surface. She could find it any time she wanted. Other things—that might take more magic to persuade the rocks to cooperate. Except for the Low Place.

Like the sky, that point was an invisible tear in the mine, one with its own gravity. Now that she had felt it once, she would know it again even without a map. They were traveling directly towards it.

“I don't want that,” Lilac said. “But I don't know what we can do to stop it. We don't have the power to make another Alicorn here. You would need both of us—one to sacrifice, and one to use. Maybe the Lightless Star should run and hide, find somewhere else to live.”

And when you leave, Iris and I will find a way to stay behind.

“The Watcher considered that. He is certain the moment of our ascension has arrived. It is the new moon, and the princess's most powerful apprentice has exhausted herself saving the life of an insect. If we move at midnight, all our enemies will be at their weakest. But I cannot tell you what he intends—when you speak with him, he will explain. It is not given to me to understand the deep mysteries.

What will I do when he tries to kill me too? There was only one reason to bring her to any ritual they cast, and it wasn't for her well-being. Either she was an ingredient, or the subject of a spell. Either one they cast at a Low Place wasn't likely to be good for her health. There was already a set of eyes watching, waiting for her. The Derek Ashsen, hungering to take more of her.

“They weren't betrayed,” she said instead. “The True Gods—they say where they went. If you gave me some time, I could recreate some of their diagrams. I memorized the last ones... maybe we could use the directions to find where they went. You could ask them for yourself.”

“We already know where the True Gods reside,” the other Inquisitor said, another stallion. “We summoned you from there. Countless times you've demonstrated your strength. You speak the True Tongue; you work with power beyond any in Equestria. In the same moment Firefly betrayed us, she showed the truth of your divine right. You know of deep magic as a filly, and you shrug off attacks that could stun a yak. You stared in defiance into the Void, and won against one of the Unmade. Your authority is proven, even if your mind is clouded. We will restore your sight.”

Lilac whimpered. Some of that was true—but their conclusions were all wrong. “I'm from the same place as the True Gods came from... but it's not what you think. I'm an early ancestor at best. But they didn't go back the way they came. There's a map in Canterlot! If you want to follow them, at least go to the right place!”

“Speak these things to the Watcher,” said the cultist. “Few of us understand the deep knowledge. He is able to comprehend it. His long life gives him the context to understand, as we lack. He is waiting even now.”

He gestured down another flight of steps. The air here smelled of freshly broken stone and wet concrete. She didn't recognize this tunnel, though some of the speckled rocks were similar. This was along the path she ran when she fled from the Derek Ashsen. It looked considerably remodeled since her explosive solution to that problem.

Not much further, and they reached the new excavation.

It was much larger than anything she'd seen before. There was earth pony magic at work in digging this so fast, perhaps darker things as well. A thin spiderweb of metal covered the walls, holding up a huge dome. It had many entrances now, leading to numerous other tunnels that were now clogged with the metal grate, or debris from the excavation.

Purple crystals illuminated the huge space, each one suspended on a length of metal chain from above. They gave off an eerie, shadowy light. In that light, she could still see dozens of ponies, maybe hundreds.

They waited in a line, with a single clear pathway between them leading across the room. Lilac didn't need to see to know where it went—the entrance to the Low Place.

Her escort stepped forward into the room, his horn glowing brighter. “All bow before Lilac Empathy, the nameless god! When she wears her crown and sits upon her throne, let all know her and despair.”

The crowd bowed. All of them were wearing robes, obscuring their general outlines in the crowd of so many. But not all had masks—that was a special honor, granted only to the Witnesses and above.

They walked through the bowing ponies. Lilac felt their attention on her, a pressure of focus as she'd never felt it before. She'd never seen so many members of the Lightless Star before, not in one place. I thought there were a few dozen, not hundreds. All this time, she'd underestimated their scale.

In this cavern, she was looking at basically every prominent member of Willowbrook. Every shopkeeper, every estate holder, every judge and police pony and postal deliverymare.

But Lilac didn't want their bows, and she didn't care about their adulation. She just wanted to find her mother.

She found Risk first. He was gathered near the front, one of the few ponies here without either a robe or a mask. His father had the coat, but nothing over his face. But next to his son, Lilac recognized him. She stepped out of her royal procession, ignoring the strange looks. Would her “guards” attack her in the open, with so many eyes on her? They'd just announced her as a god.

“Come with me,” she said, loud enough for many of the surrounding ponies to hear. “Risk, you've, uh—been by my side from the beginning. Now I want to... reward your loyalty, or whatever.”

She did her best. But if the act wasn't convincing, nopony said so. They remained frozen and bowing—all except Risk. He stepped forward, looking nervously to either side. He met her eyes, flashing her a confused grin. She smiled back, but said nothing more. It was enough to see that he was still thinking straight, and not some zombie trapped by an inescapable Geas.

She found the other pony she was looking for near the end of the room. There was a raised platform here, above the crowd of ordinary ponies without masks. Her mother had both mask and robe, but Lilac could identify her easily. Her robe had a little rip near one of the hems, and Lilac knew the distinctive way she kept her tail brushed.

She was also waiting as far forward as she could. There were tables here, filled with fine foods and wine. Nopony sat beside her, and there was no food at hers. Was she really an honored guest, or another prisoner like Lilac?

“I want—”

“No,” the pony leading her said, his voice harsh and authoritative. “Your desire to exalt the one who cared for you is noble, unknown god. But she is responsible for the trial we find ourselves in. It would not be proper for her to attend your elevation.”

He nudged her forward—not an attack this time, just a gentle spell, pushing her along.

“Remember what I taught you,” Iris whispered. She remained on the edge of the platform, obedient to the command. “You deserve to be an Alicorn again. Thank you for the time we shared.”

She lowered her head then, defeated. Like a pony who didn't think she would ever see Lilac again.

Lilac strained, reaching up onto the platform and touching Iris's leg with one of hers. She wanted to hug her, to close her eyes and let her mom make everything better, the way she always did.

“It would be better to keep moving,” said the one directing her. “Better for Iris's health as well as yours, nameless god. It would be tragic if something happened to her, don't you think? Or your little friend there. They've served the Lightless Star faithfully. Protect them with your obedience now.”

There would be nopony to banish the nightmares tonight. Lilac let go, and returned to the aisle. Risk followed her, and the Inquisitors didn't move to stop him. He walked close enough for her to feel him nearby. At the same time, he never got too close. Not while there were so many ponies watching them from every angle.

I hope you're far away from here, Firefly, she thought. They reached the far wall, and a metal archway. It led into a much smaller room, also newly excavated. She could see a familiar metal doorway beyond, one she remembered opening once. The Low Place was waiting for her.

Chapter 74: Void

Lilac Empathy was not quite alone as she entered the antechamber. There was a pavilion waiting here, erected just beside the metal door. She'd seen its like before—many layers of transparent cloth, and the smell of strange incense.

Beneath it all was the faint smell of decay, of uncovered graves and rotting meat. The smell covered it only so well.

As she stepped into the room, ponies appeared from beside the tent. There were at least a dozen, each wearing the strange Inquisitor masks and armor under their robes. They bowed before her as she entered, though there was something perfunctory about the gesture. She felt none of the same sincerity from them as the crowd waiting outside.

“I've brought the unknown god as you ordered, Watcher,” said the pony escorting her. As they walked inside, several Inquisitors stepped behind them, pushing an oversized door into place, and moving to block the exit.

There were no open windows to escape from in here, or even any other tunnels. The excavation had built this chamber with only two exits—one into the Low Place, and another with Inquisitors in the way.

“She was not happy to awake here, and expressed her dissatisfaction to us. She was still cooperative, and agreeable.”

Lilac saw no motion inside the tent, at least at first. Then she saw gemstones glittering behind the fabric, and saw the lace deform just beside her. She saw a pony's face outlined by a mask. There was no further movement. No twitch from legs or hooves. When he spoke, the Watcher's horn glowed, but the fabric didn't move with his breath.

“I am sorry for the... sudden summoning back to us,” he said. “The time for stealth has been unexpectedly taken from us, unknown god. We must triumph now, return you to your exaltation, or be destroyed. Now that she has seen us, we can know with confidence that the Sun Tyrant will destroy us if she gets the chance. She will slay all, and see all our secret works destroyed by fire.”

Even his accent unsettled her. Like nothing she'd heard anywhere on Equestria before—an ancient voice, speaking from the dust. “I know what you tried to do to Firefly,” she said flatly. “You didn't try to persuade her; you just attacked her. She reacted badly to your betrayal.”

“Time moves against us, unknown and true goddess. Thanks to her, we have only one night. By tomorrow, Celestia's army will descend on Willowbrook. They already know of this place—they will find it, and kill all. If they knew what you were, you would have been the first they killed.”

Liar, Lilac thought. I spent my whole life believing ponies when they said that. But you were wrong. Even Twilight didn't attack me. She wanted to help.

“I broke into the restricted section of the Canterlot Library,” Lilac said. She took a few steps away from the cloth tent. Far enough that no limb could reach through the fabric and grab her. Far enough that the strange smell drifting out from inside faded beneath incense and damp stone. “I learned secrets about the True Gods there, left over in the True Tongue. Maybe some of them can help.”

Talking to the Watcher was even worse than speaking to ponies through their masks. She never saw motion from within, just the steady levitation of his horn. His voice always sounded the same too, a breathless whisper without any variation for tone.

“There may be some truth hidden in Equestrian lies, unborn god. But we do not have time for study and practice anymore. We must act quickly—we must bring across more of your kind. They will reward us for our service, and protect all of those who loyally worshiped. We will not need to study their mysteries when we can ask them directly.”

Lilac secured her hooves underneath her. The rocks here were weak and brittle things, so close to the Low Place. They had spent an eternity having their essence leached away into another place. Lilac would need to reach further if she fought, relying on the strength of the planet.

Either that, or somehow steal enough time to carve her own spells, and trick these ponies into empowering them for her. Almost all of these Inquisitors were unicorns, or else wore a mask with a false horn. She might not know which until it was too late.

She glanced around, searching for the pony who had come with her. It would be better to have Firefly here, the pony who had already fought and won against this creature once. She had been in a position just like this, with the leader of the Lightless Star explaining some important step they had to follow together. Then came the knife to her gut.

She found Risk still with her, at least. He bowed to the ground, never looking directly at the canopy. He didn't dare approach as close as she was, or even look up. His whole body shook with the fear of the Watcher's proximity. Maybe he could sense what was really going on with that horn of his.

“How?” Lilac asked. “Hasn't this been your goal from the beginning? You brought Firefly and I the last time you tried, and we're... incomplete. More ponies like us won't be able to save us from Equestria's revenge.”

“She speaks the truth,” the Watcher said. “With the magic Firefly guarded for us, you could be elevated to an Alicorn yourself, and open the way with your own power. I don't doubt that once you had your full power returned, you would remember all we needed.

“Without that, we can still use your help. Not as a sacrifice, but an anchor. I hoped to wait for you to reach the maturity of your power and confidence—but Equestria will not give us that time. You carry with you the sympathy to your ancient origin. With that sympathy, we will reach across the gulf of space and time, through the Veil, and open the door wide for the True Gods to ascend.”

Lilac heard Saffron's voice in her mind, asking her if she actually wanted to invite more of her kind into Equestria. Did she even know the truth about them?

She did now. Lilac stood up straight, putting herself directly between the cult leader with his glittering gemstones and her frightened pony friend. “You went to the wrong place when you summoned me. I'm from the first home of the True Gods, not their final destination. The Alicorns wrote directions for where they went when they left Equus. Not down, up.”

She pointed up at the ceiling, defiant. “The Alicorns didn't go back the way they came. They weren't banished to my awful home. They're somewhere better. If you use me to get back... you'll never find them. They aren't there!”

Silence descended on the room, instant and complete. The Inquisitors stopped their gentle rustling. Incense curled up into the air. Lilac barely heard her own breathing.

“I don't know what would make you believe that, nameless god,” the Watcher finally said. “Look at yourself, are you not here before us? Firefly too—we have seen the truth of her power. What are you if not the True Gods? The unconquerable chaos of Abaddon would not produce two ponies. You have seen with your own eyes what the Void brings forth to those who stare beyond the Outer Gates. Then you killed it, with the same contempt the True Gods used to cleanse this place in the ancient days.”

Can I fight so many of them at once? Lilac spun in a slow circle, taking in each of the Inquisitors in turn. Each one of them was a unicorn—how easily could they lift her off the ground?

“You didn't find the place of their banishment,” Lilac argued. “You took me from their first home, long before they existed. I'm... an ancestor of the Alicorns you hoped for, or maybe an infant. If you open a Gate, you'll only get more like me. Helpless, confused.”

“Helpless?” demanded the voice. “You weren't there when we trapped Firefly. Her magic summoned a storm that could have leveled all of Willowbrook! You wrote a spell to peer beyond the Outer Gates, and cast it correctly on your first attempt. Do you think powers and talents are commonplace in Equestria? Whenever they appear, the tyrant snatches them away for her own purposes. Not this time. With your help, we will return the Old Ones to their thrones.”

Lilac backed away a few steps further, until she was beside Risk. If she had a horn, she could probably cast something to get out of this. She met his eyes, desperate. Could he teleport them free?

To his credit, he managed to stand up, fighting against fear. “What do we do?” he whispered into her ear.

The ground was hard stone—she couldn't scratch into it with a hoof like the dirt around the grove. I could reach through the Low Place to another one, like the one in Canterlot. But would we survive the trip?

More importantly, how would she do the necessary calculations with evil ponies all around her, wanting to summon some old ponies from the wrong place.

“The... door,” she whispered back. “Two guards.”

Lilac planted each of her hooves firmly on the stone. They had so little power to give, compared to the ones in her cell. Would it be enough to get through a warded door?

“We do not have time for deliberation,” the Watcher said, turning from her. “A spell waits inside that room. You must enter the diagram, and I will begin the spell.”

She heard no command, but there must've been, because two Inquisitors moved, holding open the new metal door. Lilac whimpered at the metal squeaking sound, half-expecting to find a strange demonic form waiting.

Instead, the room beyond was completely unchanged. There was a gentle slope down to a radiating point of not-light, emitting a faint purple glow into the surrounding air. Rather than showing the room by illuminating it, the surrounding walls seemed to grow darker,showing their outlines in the strange contrast.

There was a spell waiting inside too—carved lines, raw ingredients, and a crystal as large as her head, balanced in a delicate spun-gold apparatus. If she went inside, she would probably find a spell not that different from the one Lilac had planned to cast. This was the way to send them home, from the day she thought that was possible.

“Stand near the center, closest to the aperture. The casting will not take long.”

Instead of doing that, Lilac reached into the stones all around her, and pulled with all her might. She needed more than simple resilience here—but strength, greater than anything she'd used in her life. Lilac anchored herself to the ground, then pointed back the way they'd come. “Now, Risk!”

The unicorn reacted. He attacked, sending out a sudden burst of force that flung both Inquisitors away from the door, opening the path for them. Lilac screamed, calling out to the earth for help as she'd never done before. With the sun so far away, there was no growth to answer her here.

So she'd thought. A thick carpet of white fungus sprung up around her hooves, rising to mushrooms at the ankle and above. It rippled and waved with the force of her will, part of her no differently than the plants she had accidentally brought to her aid in House Vale.

She barely even felt the ponies trying to tackle her. Someone tried to lift her off the ground, and her hooves did not move. Another slid into her from the side, then stopped with a painful crunch, like they'd just hit a brick wall. A metal weapon struck into her coat, and cracked from the blow, shattering.

The door groaned and buckled, then curved sideways, as huge pillars of stone erupted from the ground, lifting it out of the way, and leaving a new archway in its place. Little patches of the fungi started to glow, species she had no names for. The way was open.

“You will stop this,” said the Watcher. His voice was barely audible over the groan of old rock, and the shouts of Inquisitors. Even so, Lilac obeyed. Her hooves froze in place, seconds from the outside. Blood trickled from her nose, and her thoughts began to fog.

Little Risk was even worse off—he flopped to the side, frozen in place.

“Now turn and walk this way, Lilac Empathy.”

She turned. Every second was iron on her mind, the same touch that had once stopped her from talking about her home. Was that why she could feel the cracks in this one? The Watcher's grip was strong, but brittle. Lilac Empathy wasn't the one under this Geas, not exactly.

“Good. Now inside. Stand in the center of the diagram, and don't damage anything. Now.”

Lilac fought every step. She whimpered and cried; her vision fogged at the edges. But if there was a way out, she didn't find it during the walk. She approached the Low Place, stepping carefully over the lines and between the equipment, without damaging anything.

Finally she found her place, and she slumped onto her haunches, defeated.

Eternity stared back, a tear without depth, shadow, or texture. Her home, and a trillion trillion nightmares. Waiting for her.

Chapter 76: Lurker at the Threshold

Before Lilac was a terror emerged from the darkest nightmares. Its body was an amalgam of writhing, bloody flesh, with misshapen bits of bone emerging at odd angles. It stood on two legs, but as a human being it was a horrifying parody.

The flesh that made it had no particular order—organs pulsed and bled, exposed. Eyes poked out from parts of its body, still blinking, while broken skulls formed sharp teeth in its jaws. It was so large it had to crawl forward on its hands-and-knees, leaving a black trail behind it as it went.

Even so, it kept its face pointed towards Lilac. There were no eyes in its sockets, just more melting, bleeding flesh.

“Why did you forsake my memory?” it asked, its voice gurgling and disordered. “You severed the silver cord, snapped the gate shut. Was not finished with it.”

It smacked a meaty fist into the wall. The whole cavern shook, maybe even the whole continent.

Lilac was running out of ground to retreat. Her mother wasn't keeping up with her anymore. Her mouth hung open, and blood trickled from her nose. Lilac felt a little of that herself.

It felt as though the Low Place was following them, tearing the strength from everything it touched. Like that tear in space, this creature defied her eyes to look at. She couldn't focus on it, couldn't look in its direction for more than a few seconds without feeling sick.

Technically, she’d rolled totally past merely sick, and felt utterly disgusted. She had been inside that thing. Her fur was still soaked in its fleshy ooze.

“No more gunpowder this time!” it said. Derek Ashsen continued to advance on her, tearing huge chunks of stone from the ground as it came. Where it touched, the rock became chalky and gray, its physicality leached away by this quivering horror. “Think the door will stay closed? But there are so many waiting to enter! Gods they wanted, so gods they will have!”

Lilac reached where Risk was cowering. As Derek got closer, the magic from his horn went out, and the scrap of metal he wielded as a weapon dropped uselessly to the ground. Not that it would do anything against a primeval terror anyway.

“Get the door open!” she squeaked, gesturing behind her. “Risk, hurry!”

That snapped him out of whatever funk he was stuck in. He lurched sideways, scurrying over to the door and shoving up against it. Good thing he was able to move on his own this time—if the ponies around her collapsed, how could she possibly help them?

“You think severing that thread is enough? Beating hearts, sparks glow in this darkness. You can't flee! Stolen light recaptured. Thin membrane strains at the edges, floating in a sea of darkness. The threads come unraveled, let the midnight in.”

“Got it!” Risk's voice sounded so very small compared to the monstrous form advancing on them. He was loud enough—Lilac glanced over her shoulder, then hurried through the opening, urging Iris along beside her. But her mom was coping with the proximity far better than River Breeze had during their last encounter.

Iris even managed to slam the door closed behind them. The room beyond was filled with cultists, somehow unchanged from the last time Lilac had seen them. There were perhaps a hundred ponies in all, citizens from all across Willowbrook. Most had their faces obscured by masks, their bodies hidden in cloaks.

She could still tell who most of them were. The flight instructor from Whispering Willow stood nearby on the stage, talking with the owner of the general store. That stage waited with a fine wooden throne, empty and expectant.

“Everypony, run!” Lilac screamed. It didn't matter if they believed she was a god or not. If they didn't, they would all die. “Up to the surface, now!”

Her voice cut across the low murmur of conversation. Ponies were already watching her as she entered. Hopefully that meant they would listen. “The way you came, now! There's something coming!”

The metal behind her dented with the first terrible blow. Where it bent, tendrils of flesh wormed around it, reaching for her. “Stolen light is returned!” shouted the demon named Derek Ashsen, his voice only partially muffled by the opening. “Spinning ever faster! What was will be!”

If Lilac's own command had not been enough to motivate the crowd, that did it. Ponies turned towards the entrance, fleeing up into the mines. But there were so many, far more than could fit in the mine's narrow tunnels. Every other entrance had been sealed, they could only flee one way.

“What happened?” somepony demanded. Not to Lilac, though she already had an answer ready.

Her mother spoke first. “The Watcher betrayed us! He sacrificed the Inquisitors to this demon, then fled!”

The metal dented outward again. It hissed and squeaked with the force of the blow, and thin lines of rust snaked around from the point of impact.

Lilac didn't run. The crowd of ponies packed up against the rear entrance would never empty in time. Crossing that space would buy her seconds at most. “W-what do we do?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Th-the last time... it was so much smaller.”

Her mother wasn't frozen in terror like Risk. Maybe she just had more magical strength to give, or maybe her will was stronger. However she did it, she resisted. “I don't... I've never seen hubris like this before. What madness would make a pony reach through the Outer Gates?”

“He was trying to summon more Alicorns,” Lilac whispered. “Like when you brought Firefly and I. I warned him they weren't there, but the Watcher didn't listen!”

The metal door finally gave out, smashing flat to the ground. The demon poured over it, sinuous half-rotten flesh leaving a trail of blood and viscera behind. Quite a thick trail, actually. As it rose to its full height, Lilac saw something she should've realized from the start.

The Derek Ashsen was melting. Not quickly—but everywhere it went, it left bits and pieces of its own body behind. It doesn't have my sympathetic connection to hold it in the world anymore.

“Stall!” she whispered, urging the others back, out of reach. “We just need time! It's dying!”

The demon loomed large overhead, so high its head scraped against the ceiling. Its arms hung down almost to the floor, with sharp bones protruding through the skinless flesh like spines. “Do you think you're better than we are, nameless one? In all the stillborn space, you hail from one where gravity diverged. Singularity torn apart, diffusing across the void. Are we so different?”

It reached up into the ceiling, tearing out a chunk of rock in bloody hands. Cracks spread from the missing piece, and the mine groaned under hoof.

Lilac felt it again, the almost personified rage of the rocks and stones all around them. It was bad enough that there was an opening here, leaching some of their strength across the eons. But to have this monstrosity crawling its way out to torment them—the planet itself was furious.

Then the boulder struck Lilac, itself heavier than a car, and thrown with as much force. It should've instantly crushed her to death. It would have, if not for the magic all around her. The stone smacked up against her, then exploded in a shower of broken rock. There was no time to stop and think how impossible it was to survive such a blow.

She shook herself free just as another chunk of rock came hurtling at her. This time she dodged, gliding away from Risk and Iris, up against the empty stage.

“Too much charge in the electron! Too great a charge to overcome! You would be another like us, unborn! Why should you come into this garden? You're a stranger here!”

“I don't know!” she yelled back. Here in the vaulted throne-room there was far more light than the dim ritual chamber. There was a weight on her forehead that hadn't been there before. How had she got all the way onto the stage again? “It doesn't matter! You're falling apart! You don't belong here!”

The demon roared, lurching for her with both arms outstretched. It blurred through the air with impossible speed—speed that a body could only reach when it didn't care about tearing through its own bones and muscles to do it. Claws stretched towards her, glittering points ready to tear her apart.

Then she heard a scream, and she was somewhere else. She dropped to the ground in front of Risk, just as the stage shattered into a thousand broken shards. Ice crystallized along her skin, her breath and body suddenly cold, stomach swimming.

“Lilac!” He nudged her onto her hooves, desperate. “What were you thinking?”

She had crossed to the other side of the cavern. Not far enough for the demon not to see her. It spun on her, tearing itself free of the broken stage, toppling the huge throne waiting for the arrival of their god. When it stood, it left huge chunks of meat behind—it was no longer tall enough to touch the ceiling. Its flesh warped on thin bone, like a popsicle left out in the sun.

“Better me than you,” she muttered, stumbling forward. Between the demon and two ponies she'd come to care about. “It's not their fault they exist!” Lilac screamed. Her voice boomed across the cavern, louder than her lungs ever could've managed. “And it's not mine!”

“I'll take you back with me!” it promised. “When I go slithering back into outer darkness. You'll be one of us then, you'll know the hatred we feel! You'll understand the crime! You'll help us tear this garden down! You've seen how it was made, you know how it can be unmade!”

The demon attacked again. This time, Lilac was prepared for its speed. The cavern had been magically excavated, and magically reinforced. Thanks to her, this demon had spent a great deal of energy tearing down those spells. Stone rumbled overhead, eager to move. All she really had to do was stomp her hooves. The rock here wanted to be commanded.

The ceiling collapsed.Chunks of rock as big as carts tumbled down all around the creature. It had done its own damage, leaving the cavern strongest where ponies were still fleeing. It would have to be enough.

The cavern fell in, crushing the demon Derek Ashsen under a mountain's worth of granite.

Chapter 77: Made

Lilac shielded her face with one leg, coughing and spluttering in the cloud of dirt and broken rock. She didn't expect that to matter much—the cave in would probably kill her, Risk, and Iris too.

Only, it didn't. She lifted her leg a second later, confused. A glowing shell wrapped around them, bowing in slightly under the force of so much rock. Iris stood in the center, staring up at the collapsing ceiling. Even though her head was nowhere near the top of the shield, it seemed to be crushing her downward.

“Lilac...” she muttered, through gritted teeth. “I think now might be... a good time... to put that horn to use. Yes?”

Horn? In the glow of Iris's spell, she saw what on some level she had already seen. A bony protrusion stretched up from her forehead, poking through her scalp. Bone was the right word—it wasn't covered with velvet the same color as her coat, like every unicorn she'd ever seen. Instead it was bone-white, emerging from her still bleeding scalp.

The spell didn't finish with me, she thought. The Watcher had been trying to summon an Alicorn. Maybe if she hadn't severed her connection, the demon would have taken over her body, completely. It would have a stable body of its own in Equestria, to do who knew how many terrible things.

What should she do about the collapsing stone? Teleporting to freedom was the obvious answer—unfortunately, she didn't know how to do that, or how far it was. What could she do instead? There was no huge explosion of energy here to power a shield, the way they'd done with the blasting powder.

What about the spell miners used to form caverns, the same one the Lightless Star had used to make this room? Lilac pictured it, the same as she did when she was drawing it with charcoal. Only this time, she didn't have to.

Outside the shield, the bowl of broken rocks and sand flashed bright orange, melting together into a flattened container of stone. At once, the pressure on Iris's shield vanished.

She slumped to the ground, breathing heavily. “Great work... sweetheart. You're a natural.” Her shield vanished, plunging them into total darkness.

The terrible roar of collapsing stone continued far away, shaking the ground beneath them. But Lilac wasn't listening for rock anymore—she wasn't the one the mountain wanted dead. As the seconds passed in darkness, the one sound she dreaded never came. No demon came to rip apart their thin protection.

“It doesn't look natural to me,” Risk said. He loomed over her, his horn glowing into a faint spark of light. In that illumination, he seemed as badly-off as she was, his whole body covered in dirt and worse. “Does it hurt? It looks like they were partway to changing you, but the magic ran out before they finished. Those wings are... yikes.”

Wings. Lilac had been so busy fighting for her life that two more unexplainable sensations just didn't faze her. Now she looked, and she wished she hadn't.

She had wings on her sides, like they'd ripped through the flesh of her back more than naturally growing there. It was probably for the best she couldn't get a good view.

Like the horn, these wings hadn't finished growing. They had only a smattering of feathers, in a dozen different mismatched colors. It was far less “pretty rainbow” as “half-plucked chicken.”

“I'm the nameless god they prayed for,” she muttered. “Look at me, rightful ruler of Equestria.” She closed her eyes, settling to the ground with exhaustion. “Or... probably we shouldn't talk about this. I don't know how much air we have in here.”

Iris wrapped a foreleg around her, pulling her in close. “I'm... proud of you,” she said. “Not many ponies would stand against the Unmade like that. Legends like the Pillars of Equestria. Whatever the Tyrant does when she finds us here, remember I'm proud of you. If I could've given you more, I would have.”

Lilac was crying again. Not much—not with Risk to see her. But fighting it all back was impossible. “You gave me everything, Mom. I love you.”

Firefly flew with the storm.

The Alicorn Luna was a terrible force in the sky when she wanted to be, like a streak of lightning in the night. An entire detachment of Night Guards flew along behind her in dense formation, but they could never hope to keep pace with the princess.

But after seeing Alicorns in action, Firefly now realized what she should've always known about the guards. They were never the ones meant to take new ground, they were just too weak compared to the princesses they served. Instead, they were the forces meant to hold the ground once it was taken. They would occupy, rebuild, and repair.

They could never keep up with the princess, but Firefly could. She flew in her wake, sheltered by Luna's magic against the flesh-rending force of the rainboom. She could never hope to fly at such speeds under her own power. But with enough control, she could ride along in the vortex.

Her wings told her of the terrifying force that waited just beyond the shockwave, enough to shatter all the bones in her body and leave her a bloody mess trailing through the sky. So long as she kept just behind the Alicorn, she would be fine. With that kind of motivation, how could she fail?

The pressure made it feel like hours, but it was probably less than one. Just as her limbs started going numb and her body was giving out, the princess began to slow.

“Stay up here a moment,” she ordered, as they coasted over Willowbrook from above. The Cumulus Maze was sparse that night, with only a handful of islands. Luna's attention wasn't on any of the clouds, but something moving along the ground. It was so distant that Firefly had no idea what she was looking at. “He's out in the open. All this time we hunted for him, and he's right there.”

She turned down into a sharp dive, dropping rapidly through the air. There was nothing so magical about the movement that Firefly couldn't follow. She was good at flying, not so good at following instructions.

The princess was interested in wilderness far outside of town, towards the mines. Of course it would be the mines. Where else would the evil cult be doing their evil rituals? Firefly didn't understand their reasoning the way Lilac did, but she didn't need to. The unicorns could figure out the magic.

It was too dark for Firefly to really see where they were going, until Luna had already landed. A lump lay on the ground there, crawling away from the mine. It was about the right shape for a pony. But why would anypony wrap themselves in so many layers of cloth?

Princess Luna landed before the strange outline. She lifted a sword from her armor, a thin silver blade that radiated the soft white of moonlight. “You will go no further, Watcher,” she said. “Surrender, or die.”

The blob of cloth and misshapen limbs collapsed to the dirt. Firefly caught a glint of gemstone from inside, and suddenly she knew what she was looking at. The Watcher! But what was he doing up here? “You are too late to kill me,” he said. Out in the open, his voice was barely audible over the gentle evening breeze. The words of a ghost. “Around and around we go. Forgetting, trying again, dying. Over and over again. Where's the justice in that, Alicorn? Why do you live, while we die? So many times...”

The princess lowered her blade, eyes fixed on the Watcher. “Necromancy? How many years have you stolen, Watcher?”

He laughed in answer. His voice stretched and distorted in the darkness, echoing off the rocks, the distant mountains. “Someone had to carry the memory of the True Gods. But when I reached for them... they didn't answer. Something else did.”

“Where?!” Firefly demanded. She didn't land, didn't get anywhere close to the stinking, rotten creature. “Where did you do it?”

He looked up, turning gemstone eyes on her. “Firefly... I order you to... no. There's no purpose in more bloodshed.”

“Where?” she yelled, louder. “Where is Lilac? What did you do with her?”

More laughter, quieter this time. “She tried to warn us. As though we would listen... should have, though. She claimed to know where they really went. But how could she? We found you there.”

“Your time is over, Watcher,” Luna interrupted. “One day, the ponies of Equestria may come to know the ancient Alicorns. When they do, it won't be because of a hateful cult. If you had somehow brought one back today, how do you think they would feel? Would they reward you for murdering their children? Would they be pleased that you tore holes in the fabric they lovingly sewed on your behalf. I don't think so.”

He wasn't listening to her. His voice was barely even a whisper anymore. She heard a memory more than sound. “Remember the True Gods, when I am gone. Don't let the tyrants erase us. What we built had... meaning. We would have seen them on their thrones.”

Light burst from Luna's blade, shining down on the fallen pony. His feeble cloak of fabric blew away in a sudden burst of wind. For a second, Firefly saw a rotten, shriveled husk of a pony, mummified and long dead. Then the light touched it, and the corpse crumbled away.

She heard a final whisper on the wind, a long sigh. Relief, as somepony who had carried an immense load for a long time, and finally set it down. Then a sapphire and an emerald clattered to the ground, where once eyes had been.

“So ends the Lightless Star,” Luna whispered, sheathing her blade. “I thought I told you to remain in the air.”

“I'm still flying!” Firefly countered, hovering along behind her.

Luna groaned. “I fear our work has only begun, young Firefly. I felt the truth of his words on our approach. One of the Unmade is here, or... was.” She tilted her head to the side, her horn glowing again. It went out after a second. “Curious. I no longer sense its presence.”

“Maybe Lilac Empathy killed it already.” Firefly landed beside the princess, though she kept her wings open. There was more distance to fly. “We fought demons once before. We're basically experts.”

“Careful.” Luna raised one hoof, fixing her with a sudden, intense glare. “My patience is greater than my elder sister's, but it is not eternal. Do not callously disregard the Unmade. Even with your lifetimes of magic, they can still do worse than kill you. Do not forget, you were not created here. Until you are born here, they could rip you away if you give them the chance. I do not wish for that future for you, Firefly—dragged across the gulf of misery and endless woe.”

Firefly felt a wave of sudden chill cut through her. “Lilac Empathy—could a demon do that to her too? We have to find her!”

Luna nodded solemnly. “Somewhere in this city is a hole bored through reality—an opening in the tapestry. Do you know where?”

She took off, scattering the ashy remains of the Watcher behind her. “Follow me! We're close!”

It did not take them long to reach the mine. As they arrived, they found a steady stream of ponies pouring out from inside. There were so many—way more than the small numbers she had always guessed for the cult.

They were so terrified that seeing the princess barely fazed them. They parted around her and Firefly, scattering into the darkness.

The princess drew her sword again, watching the opening. “It's possible the Unmade has hid itself from me. It might do this if it had taken a pony as its host. Even so, I will know it when I see it. When it comes, you should flee.”

“I'm not afraid,” she lied. Actually, facing one of these monsters had been the single most terrifying moment of her life. Watching her father almost die was worse, but that was a different kind of pain. “But what if... what if it is inside a pony?”

The princess made a subtle slashing motion with her sword. “I wish there was another way. But killing the host will free the one within, rather than trapping them in endless torment with the Unmade. Death is not so terrible by comparison.”

Minutes passed, and the press of ponies became a trickle, then finally came to a stop. The last and weakest stragglers hobbled past where Luna and Firefly waited. The Alicorn stared at each one, but whatever she was looking for, she never found it. Finally she lowered her blade. “No demon. I don't understand.”

“My friend is still down there!” Firefly exclaimed, barely containing her desperation. “Please, we have to rescue her!”

The distant horizon was stained suddenly purple, the first signs of the approaching sunrise.

Luna sighed, sliding her blade back into its sheath. “Do you really think the Lightless Star would leave your friend down there? These ponies believe you are gods, do they not? The ancient Alicorns, returned again. Why would they leave her?”

“She... ordered it,” said a nearby pony. Firefly had seen him before—he worked in the Vale estate? Or maybe he ran it? He wasn't wearing a mask like the others. “My son was with her. Please... Firefly, find them.”

He begged her, not the princess standing just beside her. Even now, the cultists still believed. Firefly couldn't even imagine.“

“What happened?” Luna demanded. She appeared beside the Vale steward, cutting off his path of retreat. “You will explain everything, now.”

Within five minutes, they were sprinting back into Cyan Mines.

Chapter 78: Whole

Firefly was not the pony to cut through the rubble and finally dig up Lilac's shelter. This time she obeyed Luna's instructions, staying well back from the magical excavation. She had nothing like the power the Alicorn could wield, and getting into her way only gave the princess more to distract her.

At least the whole mine hadn't collapsed, or else they might never have found their way to Lilac's shelter in time. It was only one specific room, which Risk's dad had called the “throne chamber.”

Even from the entrance, Firefly saw signs of death in this place. A thick coating of rotten meat and bits of bone emerged between many of the rocks, which thankfully didn't leap out and try to attack them. Like someone had tipped over the machinery in a meat-packing plant, halfway through dissecting an animal. The smell burned her nose and eyes, far worse than being near the Watcher's final moments.

Then the princess discovered a dome of rock, melted together from bits of crushed debris. That was when Firefly fluttered over, through the maze of excavations. The princess stopped beside it, tapping one armored hoof against the side.

A few seconds later, somepony tapped back, urgent. The princess drew her sword again, gesturing with it. “Back up, Firefly. I sense living ponies within, but I may be deceived. If I see a demon wearing another's body, I will still cut her down.”

Firefly backed up. She already had a good sense of when she could get away with pushing Luna's instructions a little, and when she couldn't. This was not the time.

“I am cutting through!” Luna shouted, directly at the stone shell. “Back away from this side!” She counted down, then cast her spell. She ripped a pony-sized hole in the rock, while leaving the rest of the dome untouched. It was still holding up part of the ceiling, after all. If she weakened it any further, it might just come down on their heads.

A pony emerged from inside, hacking and spluttering. It was Little Risk, covered with dirt and slime. He stumbled over to the princess, then froze, staring at her. His mouth hung open, but he was much too afraid to speak. The princess waved her sword at him, impatiently. “The exit is behind us. Go.”

He went, but only a few steps. Like Firefly, he waited to make sure the other occupants made it out.

A pony emerged, carrying another on her back. Iris Vale looked even worse than Risk, with cuts and burns all over her coat. Whatever happened to her was nothing compared to Lilac Empathy.

The filly lay limp on her back, as bruised and bloody as any of the other ponies here. But none of those looked like they had been half-transformed into something.

Lilac had a bony horn emerging from her head, longer and sharper than most unicorns. She had wings now too, hanging limply down her sides.

Firefly whimpered and looked away from the painful sight. Never in her life had she seen wings in such bad shape, not even in the anatomy textbooks she studied at school. The feathers were a mismatch of different colors, like they'd been borrowed from a dozen different ponies. The rest of her wings were scabbed over and bleeding, the flesh raw.

Oh god. This must be what Luna meant about knowing a demonic messenger when she saw one. Her friend must've lost against the demon after all!

“Stars above.” The sword sagged in Luna's grip. Instead of attacking, her expression turned to pity. “What happened to her?”

“The Watcher thought he could bring back the ancient Alicorns.” Iris continued over to the princess, then stopped. She showed none of the usual deference ponies gave to their rulers. Maybe she was in too much pain to be afraid. “He couldn't. This was the result.”

The night princess's horn glowed. Even without a horn of her own, Firefly felt her attention on Lilac. She must be searching for the Unmade parasite in her soul. This was the moment—the last time Firefly would see her best friend alive.

The princess slid her sword back into its sheath. “She resisted the Unmade a second time? How?”

Iris chuckled. “My daughter has been doing things other ponies thought she couldn't since she was a filly. Must just be used to it by now.”

The filly twitched on her back, her head turning towards them. She opened one eye, which settled on Firefly. “Hey, Firefly. S-sorry I... left you out of this one.”

“No problem,” Firefly whimpered. “I forgive you. This time.”

“Don't try to speak,” Luna said. “Your war is over, child. Rest now. You will be okay.”

“Oh.” Her smile widened, and she whimpered again. “C-could someone send a wreath to the Good Folk for me? Made of wintergreen and... lilies...” She slumped again, unconscious.

“Do I even want to know what the filly means by that?” Luna asked.

“No,” they all answered, practically in unison. “Don't ask.”

There was much left to do in Willowbrook over the days and weeks that followed, of which Firefly was only a small part. But she had no desire to be part of the royal audit and eventual occupation of the city, rooting out the influence of the Lightless Star wherever it was found.

Firefly was part of that, and Lilac would've been too, if she wasn't in the hospital. With the cult's leaders dead, there were few left to speak from authority. But everypony remembered the nameless, unborn gods. By their voice of authority, the cult could finally disband.

Firefly didn't care about all the details. All kinds of changes were coming to the city—a transitional mayorship, replacements for all the police and other civic officers. A revision of the old laws. They meant it gradually, but Canterlot clearly intended to rip up any trace of the Lightless Star, wherever they remained.

Some ponies resisted, and others went missing in the night, fleeing with their secret doctrines into forbidden places. Solving all that wasn't Firefly's problem. She was just a filly, and more than happy to go back to living like one. Equestria would solve its own civic problems.

She was there to greet the hospital car when it returned from Canterlot, carrying a familiar pegasus inside. Well—he looked like a pegasus. He was her father again, right down to the glasses. There were scars around his throat, and patches of missing fur that persisted even in his transformation.

Firefly didn't care. She embraced him, and didn't try to hide her tears. “They healed you?” she asked, wiping away at her face. “Even though they know...”

He held her with a wing, until she was ready to let go. Then he removed something from around his neck, turning the little medallion around. It had Princess Luna's cutie mark stamped into the metal, along with a seal. “SMILE IDENTIFICATION #18302”

“I thought they would kill me,” he admitted. “After the invasion. I wasn't there, but I know... plenty of ponies died. I didn't expect them to be forgiving. But I was wrong.” He turned the necklace back around, then tucked it into his disheveled shirt. “I'm required to wear this at all times, and there are some... forms, an interview every six months. But that's it.”

He had a bit of a limp, but Firefly was there to support Septum out of the train. But to where? They'd made it out of the train station before she stopped in place, realizing what she should've from the beginning. “Wait. We don't... have anywhere to live. I... destroyed our house.”

Septum stopped beside her. But for as bleak as she felt, she saw no despair on his face. Instead, he pointed straight up into the air. “While I was in the hospital, I met an old friend of yours. When she heard we'd lost our home after defying the Lightless Star, she was... well, look.”

Firefly looked. She only saw the underside of a cloud, flying a little lower than usual. With... several ponies pushing it. She recognized that rainbow tail anywhere.

How many incredible things could she see in a short few minutes. “Why would she be here?” Firefly asked, baffled. “She's important, I'm...”

“You made friends,” he said. “That's how I ended up here in the first place. Anyway, we talked. I told her about how you always wanted to live up in a cloud-house. We couldn't before, when I had to change identities all the time. But since I won't be doing that anymore—I think it would be fine. With precautions. You know as well as I do how dangerous a cloud-house can be, if it isn't properly secured.”

Firefly flung her forelegs around him again, hugging him as tightly as she could. Then she stood up, launching herself into the air. She flew straight up, leaving the train station behind. Nopony noticed, or if they did they didn't care. Her father remained behind, though he never could've kept up with the speed she set. Firefly flew up so fast she felt the air curving out in front of her.

But only for a second. She slowed as she neared that obvious low-hanging cloud, with the firm yard around it. Did being made of clouds make it easier for ponies to give it as a gift, or harder? It was easily as elaborate as most buildings she had explored, with multiple stories, large windows, and even a pool out back. Through the ice windows the building was already furnished, albeit with a look that was too clean and perfect. Something fresh off the assembly line, more than a place ponies actually lived.

“Woah, slow down!” A familiar mare let go of the cloud, letting the other two take over. She met Firefly in the air, trailing her path up past the building. “Can't fly so fast around a house, you know that! Don't want to smack through the floor into somebody's bathroom.”

Firefly stopped a short distance from her, looking away awkwardly. The mare had no such reservations, and gave her a brief squeeze. “Guess you've had a rough few weeks, huh?”

Firefly nodded tearfully. “Things have been... tough. At least since the Lightless Star tried to kill me. Lost everything that night and—” She sniffed, wiping her eyes with a foreleg. “Wasn't sure if I should stay in Willowbrook or not. If there was anywhere in Equestria that would have me.”

“That's the beauty of a cloud-house.” Rainbow turned her to the side, then guided her onto the front lawn. It was big enough for a pony to run around, without rails or anything to separate it from the open sky. But anypony who could walk up here could already fly. “No matter where in Equestria you go, there's always room in the sky. Just don't park right over somepony's fields, or their house.”

Firefly took a tentative step up the path. Cloud buildings were firmer than the wild variety, enchanted to remain stable rather than puff away. There was still faint moisture under her hooves as she walked, impossible to avoid when she was in the sky. At the same time, it was so wonderfully soft—

“Dusty says you brought this house up here.”

Rainbow nodded. “Don't make such a big deal out of it. All of Equestria is talking about the ponies who were brave enough to stand against the evil cult when nopony else would. When they heard that one of those was a filly, and the bad ponies tried to kill her... I wasn't the only pony who wanted to help you. All I did was pick it out, and tell them what you liked.”

She lowered her voice, whispering into her ear. “I hope it's okay if I didn't have them fill your house with old chairs. You didn't care about all those, did you?”

She giggled. “Not even a little. I'm good with normal.”

“Great!” Rainbow clasped her around the back with a wing, then waved at the house. “Let's take the tour! We're almost in position anyway, the weight of a few more ponies won't slow it down. Come on.”

Firefly had never owned anything this nice. The inside might be made for a small group of ponies, but that didn't mean it was empty. The cloud house was already filled with everything a pony needed to make it their home.

Her own bedroom was on the top floor, with an open balcony for easy coming and going and signed Wonderbolts merchandise on the walls.

“Yeah, I had it passed around,” Rainbow said, lingering near the largest of these. “I may've let slip how talented you were. I'm sure somepony will be expecting you to try out in the next few years. Maybe I'll even be your instructor.”

Firefly thanked her again, but she didn't cry until she got to the closet.

It was filled with all kinds of beautiful things, more than enough to make up for all the ancient dresses and gowns lost when the storm took her home.

“Th-this is... wonderful.”

“A friend of mine collected all this. Some of it is for your friend, the, uh... the one with wings now. You can work that out between yourselves. But the flight suit is yours, don't give that one away. You can wear it the day you try out.”

She nodded. Firefly didn't have the heart to tell her that Lilac Empathy would never wear anything in this closet, even if their sizes still matched. She hated wearing anything that made her obviously look like a girl.

She could still offer, when the time came. “Do you think Equestria will... do anything about my friend?”

“You mean will the princesses?”Rainbow corrected. “After she heals? Keep an eye on her, mostly. So long as she doesn't go around claiming that she's actually whatever the cult believes in, some ancient goddess come to rule again—she should be fine.”

She stalked over to the balcony, opening the wide window-doors to let in a breeze. It was chilly, the way the air always felt this high up. Firefly was plenty adapted to the cold, so it didn't bother her.

“You're not those things, are you?” Rainbow Dash added, almost as an afterthought. “The Lightless Star were wrong?”

“They were wrong,” Firefly said. “Lilac and I are... we're from the same place as those old gods were. But we're not them. I don't really understand more than that. I'm just a filly, that's all I ever want to be. Well—maybe a Wonderbolt. We'll see if I measure up.”

“I'm sure you will,” the mare said. “Now the important question, before your dad flies up here.” She lowered her voice again, wrapping one wing around her shoulder. “When do you ask her out?”

Her ears flattened, tucking behind her head. “She's not interested in mares. She has a boyfriend. I guess that means I've moved on. She's not the only cute pony in Willowbrook. There's another filly, with the prettiest wings you've ever seen. Wider than an Alicorns, black and white like a swan. I've thought about... dunno. If our school ever does formals again, I'll ask her.”

Rainbow released her. “Well that's... I guess it's good, on the whole. So long as you don't live your life full of regrets. Don't live in fear of what might happen. Ponies tried to tell me what was and wasn’t possible too, but they were always wrong! Whatever you want your life to look like, you're the pony who has to go out and make it that way. We both know you can do it.”

She giggled. “Thanks, Miss Dash. All this... it's more than I could've ever asked for.”

“Well, I mean it this time. If something else goes wrong, write me a letter. Don't break in anywhere. There's probably a simpler and less fun way to do things.”

“I promise.”

Epilogue

Lilac flew for the first time a few months later. She hadn't told Firefly she was coming—that was entirely the point. Her friend had seen her slow recovery in Willowbrook Municipal Hospital for long enough that she would probably guess Lilac would be released soon.

But would she expect her to make the trip up on her own two wings?

Calling it “flight” was a bit generous at this stage, true. Lilac spread both wings in a constant gliding position—then found a promising spot above her, and teleported there in a flash. Then she would glide as slowly as possible while she recovered enough magical strength to jump again.

The trip was good practice for all kinds of new abilities, some far more disciplined than others.

Finally she was above the house, and all she really had to do was glide. Even that proved trickier than her reading suggested—a little too far to one side, and she accelerated into a dive. She managed to change direction in time to avoid the house, instead landing face-first in the cloudy ground.

It was still clouds, so the impact only winded her, leaving her sunk up to her forelegs, so deep she could feel one hoof poking through to the other side. “I'm, uh... not sure if anypony can hear me! Help!”

She didn't struggle, not when moving forward made her slip further through the opening, threatening to drop out into the night sky.

The ground rustled beside her, sinking like a trampoline with someone new joining her to jump. Then she felt a hoof on her shoulder, lifting her up onto the cloud.

Firefly stood over her, wearing an orange and yellow dress. Far more than her friend usually wore, particularly in the evening. “You flew up here?” Firefly asked, looking her over. “I didn't even know you were out of the hospital yet!”

“Surprise.” Lilac spread her wings wide. They were still moving on their own, still confusing her with hard-to-process feelings. Every single feather told her things, about the wind and the temperature and the currents of air flowing around her. “Who else would I go to see first?”

“Surprise.” Firefly hugged her, but only for a second. She dragged her towards the open front door, and the light glowing out from inside. “I want to get a good look at you.”

Lilac didn't fight her—mostly because she wasn't strong enough. Up here, she couldn't draw her usual strength from the ground. She felt fragile and weak, without that steady supply of magic flowing into her. At least she was with somepony she could trust.

“Surprised you could fly up here on your own. I didn't think breezie flying really translated.”

“It doesn't,” she said, grinning. “That's all about being so light that the wind carries you where you want to go. Doesn't work that way for a pony.”

They walked into the house, which was more remarkable to Lilac the further in she got. Her hooves should've sunk through the clouds, taking her plummeting to the earth below. But if they were going to, she wouldn't have crashed in the first place.

Firefly took her just inside, to a large entryway mirror probably made of glass. She held one of Lilac's wings in her own, staring down at it.

Thanks to months of magical therapy, the wounds had all healed, and feathers grew where once there had been only ragged flesh. Even so, they didn't look any more natural than the night the new limbs appeared. They were a mismatched collection, as though taken from a dozen different ponies.

So many colors without any coordination looked brown from a distance. Up close they just looked like the manifestation of a migraine headache. “They work?” Firefly asked, letting go. “And the...” she tapped her own forehead with one hoof.

Lilac nodded. “The horn better than the wings. I've had a lifetime practicing to use magic. It's a natural extension of everything I was already doing. I'll be way better at magic now, even if... it helps not to think about where they came from.”

Firefly raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. “A dozen Inquisitor ponies died that night, summoning a demon. It was... made of them, I think. Did Luna ever tell you why our magic was so strong?”

They crossed the house together, then up to Firefly's bedroom. A half dozen different dresses were out, along with bits of jewelry tossed all over the bed. “I think so,” Firefly said. “Princess Luna, uh—we absorbed the magic when they summoned us.”

“It stuck,” Lilac agreed. “Ponies usually have a limit to how much they can hold. It's built into Equus—about conserving a limited resource. There's only so much to go around. Since we weren't born here, we don't have it. So we're just, like... drowning in it. Until we die, and we give it back.”

Firefly nodded absently. She lifted a colorful hairband, then held it up to her mane. “What do you think? Yellow? Or red?”

“I'm the wrong pony to ask,” Lilac said, waving a dismissive leg in her direction. “What's up?”

“A date,” she answered, turning her back on Lilac, and fussing with her mane. “I've thought about asking her for a long time. But I was looking at somepony else, and I didn't want to move on until I was... ready, I guess.” Her tail tucked behind her, ears folding over. “I do now, though! It makes sense. Give it a few more years, and I'll be as confident as Rainbow Dash.”

“I'm sure you will.” Lilac touched her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “I'm sorry about getting you trapped in horse world forever. I don't think I can get us home.”

Firefly burst out laughing. “Fun way of saying 'you're welcome'!” She went with the red hairband, and started brushing her mane. She could somehow hold it with one wing, while she worked gently through. It was long again, the way she seemed to like it.

“What about you?” Firefly continued. “Equestria's newest Alicorn. How are things going for House Vale? You think anything will ever happen with... the night of the fire?”

Lilac shook her head firmly. “Iris received a pardon for her role stopping the Unmade from invading Equestria. Rebuilding on the manor is going pretty well... but I don't think she'll ever live there. She wants me to take it over, with... with Risk. We're coming up with the design together, before the architects get involved. I'd like if you took a look before they break ground.”

“Lotsa balconies,” Firefly said, without turning around. “Once you get better with your wings, you'll understand. Way faster to fly around to the side of a fancy house than to walk there. And you might want to leave from all over. All the bedrooms should have them.”

Lilac nodded. “You might have more insight if you see the plans. I've got a hotel room with my mom downtown, maybe you'll visit sometime.” She lowered her voice, both wings folding again. “Just don't call me an Alicorn to anypony else, please. Technically I'm not, I just have wings and a horn. I'm a... unipegipony. Or something. God willing there won't be any more of me.”

The clock chimed, and Firefly tensed. She spun around, darting past Lilac. “That's time! I have to... buck, I should've left ten minutes ago. Can you get down on your own?”

“I'll find a way,” Lilac said, hiding her fear as best she could. But so long as her magic didn't run out, she could always find a way to glide.

Firefly galloped out the open doorway, then vanished into the night, a yellow streak slowly fading from sight. Lilac took a little longer to get the courage to follow. But there were ponies waiting for her too—and plenty of debts accruing in her name on a certain mountain.

It was probably time to figure out a fairy payment plan.

Chapter 1: Foundational

Sister Iris Vale, sworn witness of the Nightmare's divine curse, had never been more nervous for a ritual in her life. It was a good thing her hood and cloak were so dark, or the other members of the sisterhood might have noticed her furtive posture, her tucked tail and folded ears.

But in the gloom of Cyan Mines, maybe they were really no braver than she was. She adjusted the dark robes, helping her horn find the opening meant for it in the hood. It would do no good to cover her entire reason for being here.

This might've been a mine once, but there were little signs of that left anymore. There was an ancient cargo elevator, old enough to rely on the regular motion of a counterweight up and down an empty shaft instead of unicorn magic. A few pale scars on the ground marked where once rail had been, for the workers of times past to push carts of ore.

She slowed in the line as she passed into the cavern, the largest single room she'd yet seen. It was high enough that it obviously connected many layers of light granite, without much in the way of reddish ore veins that the old miners were after.

Iris was not here to lead this ritual—she was scarcely lofty enough to even attend a service so important. But she had. After today, the world would never be the same. And it would partly be because of her. “Should you stumble, your life is forfeit."

Watcher's voice was old and thin, far more like a corpse than an actual pony. He sat atop a stone platform, body wrapped entirely in dark cloth. Only his eyes were visible glittering from within, and a horn that must've been longer than his head. It protruded like a thin saber, and glowed brighter than the candles.

They hadn't skimped on the candles. Hundreds of them were scattered around the room, filling every patch of ground not meant for the ritual. Well, that and the snack tray. Couldn't get wax on the canapés.

"All find entry," called the Watcher, voice thin and wispy in the echoing darkness. "Gather beside the gulf. Mind your hooves to not be swept within.”

Iris somehow managed to weasel her way to the front of the crowd—possibly thanks to her age. Past two dozen ponies in dark robes, she found the thing Watcher warned of, the “gulf.”

From further away, it resembled only a particularly dark patch of stone, sloping violently down into a crevice maybe wide enough to stick her hoof. But the closer she got, the harder it was to ignore how unnatural the “gulf” was.

Even standing close to it made her feel strange, like a blanket of heavy wool was tossed over her whole body. The entire world felt suddenly muted—candle flames lost their color, the crimson strata of the mine all blurred to brown, and her very heart seemed to slow.

A single circle in white chalk ran around the opening, warning the watching ponies of where they shouldn't go. Even so, Iris could make out a few stray threads of cloth, clinging to the damp rock. Like somepony had already gotten too close, and learned just what this void would do.

Iris took a few steps back, or tried. But the crowd had already closed in around her, and she found only the glares of frustrated ponies, blocking her retreat.

You just don't want to be here yourself. Maybe she wasn't as clever as she thought, getting up front. She'd be right beside the opening when the ritual began.

"So we begin our sacred conclave," said Watcher, his voice growing louder and more confident by the second. "Who will witness for the dead?"

"I will witness," Iris said. Her voice was joined by many others, many far more confident than she felt. She would have to lean on that strength, beside a swirling abyss of ambivalence.

"Your testimony is taken," Watcher said. "Equestria cannot be returned to its proper order in a night. Blood cries from the stones at our hooves. Their will cannot be frustrated, only delayed. But through our labors, the ancients will return, banishing the false sunrise."

"So it will be," Iris recited. There was nothing new here—she knew the truths she had come to witness. When the world was put right, she would rise to rule with the old order. Ponies could dream of worse goals.

Being up front did have one advantage, anyway. Iris was right beside the gulf, so she could watch as a group of several ponies walked past it, each one carrying a corner of a heavy... dome? It looked to be made of solid glass, all the way through. Maybe crystal? Either way, it was no wonder none of them had horns or wings emerging from their robes. Only earth ponies could bear such a load.

The group walked all the way around the opening, then shuffled until the dome covered it directly. Iris could still see through it to the opening, though there wasn't much to see. Was that light flickering from the other side, maybe a trickle of strangely-herbal smelling smoke?

A second later, and the ponies deposited the great dome over the gulf, then stepped back to rejoin the crowd. "So long we have waited for the stars to be right. So long we have waited for this world to align with the great darkness below.

"Today the cold will be drawn and bound," Watcher called. "The old oaths will be spoken again. Join me brothers, sisters. Tonight we will rescue an ancient god."

Iris joined the crowd, packing in around the dome. Horns lit up from around the circle, but the coven was made of more than just unicorns. This was no mere parlor-trick, like unicorn levitation. Real magic cared far more about will than it did about biology.

"By ancients banished," the chant began. "Now returned. By ancients banished..."

Things would be different this time, and Derek knew it.

It wasn't just a hunch, not like so many of the other times he'd gone out in to the Nocturne Forest to explore. This time he was prepared.

"I hope we don't have to hike much further," Charlie called, trailing a few steps behind him. Bold of his friend to be the one to complain about the long walk, given how much better shape he was in. But Charlie didn't believe. "Tell me we don't have to go all the way to the falls. You know we're gonna hit traffic if we don't make it onto the five before rush hour."

Derek stopped walking, turning to glare back at his friend. It didn't have much weight—Derek was lengthy and pale, and his back stooped under the weight of his pack. Charlie hadn't helped him carry any of the heavy equipment.

As Charlie caught up, the difference between them became clearer. He was a full head taller, with sleeves that frayed at the edges of his shirt. His skin was deeply tanned, and he had only a bottle of water slung over his shoulder, mostly empty now.

"I found something incredible here," Derek said. "This is it. Proof of things we don't understand. You'll see, then you'll realize how real it all is."

Charlie shrugged. Despite his greater stature, he was no bully. Not back in school, and not now that they'd both moved on. "Maybe I'll see that. Don't take this the wrong way, Derek. It isn't that I don't want you to be right. It's just that everything I've ever seen tells me there's no such thing as..." He waved a dismissive hand. "Well, any of it. There's no extra dimensions, there's no crystals, there's no aliens and magical water cars and MK Ultra. Nocturne Forest is serene and mysterious and it could be a great workout if we wanted it to be, but there's no magic here."

Derek hoisted the heavy pack on his shoulders. It clanked and clattered within, packed with the trappings of his spellcasting. Or so he hoped. "I know, you want something measurable. You'll get it. I was here two days ago—if I read Orion's position right, it will still be here. You'll see it, and be completely blown away. Mark my words."

Charlie shrugged again. "Guess we'll see when we get there."

They walked together in silence for several minutes, following the old trail. This one wasn't technically on any of the maps they could get from the ranger station. In places it thinned to a mere suggestion, more like something used by the hooves of wild deer and other animals. But Derek kept his GPS app handy, and occasionally glanced at the course plotted there for reference.

It was less than an hour before they finally reached the place locals called "hidden falls". And it was no wonder why it was hidden—it was really only ten feet up, formed by a sudden depression in the rock and a pond collecting water below. Anything more spectacular would probably have overflowed with a steady pressure of tourist traffic.

The water was clear, with only a faint green fog of moss and algae along the outermost rocks. Given the sweat and soreness dripping down Derek's back, he was eager to jump in. But that wasn't why they'd come.

"Hidden falls," Charlie said, leaning on one of the many large chunks of fallen granite cliffside, looking out. "Scenic. I could take a girl out here. But magical... that's where I doubt."

Derek hefted the backpack off his shoulders, then stretched. "I know it might not look like much, but that doesn't change anything. It's magical, just wait."

His hands shook as he fished around in the backpack, drawing out what he would need for the first test. Test for him, and demonstration for his friend. A tightly wrapped bundle of sage, specially prepared to produce a lot of smoke.

He held up a lighter in his other hand, then walked over to the water. He stood directly beside it, holding both up for Charlie to see. "First question: what happens if I burn this?"

He lit the bundle, then blew into it a few times to put out the flames and get the whole thing to smoke. A thick plume of white trickled up from the bundle, overpowering the "moving water" scent with sage's distinctive bite.

"That's a stupid question. It w—" Charlie trailed off, taking a few steps over to stare. His mouth hung open as he watched, waving one hand through the vapor.

Instead of rising, the smoke drifted sideways, forming a clear stream over the water as though it were trapped in a pipe. It didn't flow into the vacuum created by the trickling waterfall, but pooled about ten feet over the water's surface, right in the center.

"Okay, but... what?" Charlie finally asked. "What is it doing?"

Derek cleared a patch of ground with his boot, then set the bundle down to keep smoking. It did, gradually darkening the space above the water. This little demonstration also served to illustrate his target. "It's letting us see a current of air. There's a vortex right there, pulling everything in."

"That's your idea of magic?" Charlie asked, indignant. "Don't get me wrong, that's kinda cool, but there's... there's an explanation. You can't expect me to see some funny smoke and believe in your hobby just like that. I think maybe your patients might be getting to you a little, you know? Magical thinking."

Derek nodded towards the opening. "I understand why you would believe that. It's easier to think I must be completely wrong. So why don't you throw something in? If smoke has some other explanation, try something bigger."

Charlie selected a rock from the water's edge, clearing the mud away with a thumb. Then he threw it, right at the spot.

It passed through the smoke, drawing a little trail behind it down into the water. But almost the instant it had passed through, it went zipping back up, bringing a little water with it. It shot through the opening, up into the air... then began to fall again.

Soon enough the rock was orbiting there, a little moon for an invisible sun. Flying in midair, right before their eyes.

Charlie pulled out his phone, pointed it directly at the strange object, and started recording. "What are we looking at?" he asked. "What could make it do that?"

"You don't believe in my 'hobby'," Derek countered. He tried very hard not to sound smug. But after years and years of doubt, that was a challenge too difficult to overcome. "You won't believe it when I tell you."

"There's an explanation, there just has to be. Maybe the rocks are magnetic, and there's, uh..." He hesitated, then started moving down the water. He didn't actually step inside, keeping the camera focused on the strange manifestation within.

"There's no explanation you can think of. Just don't get close to it yet, okay? I don't know what that would do."

He set to work, removing a few old wooden boxes from his stuff. He balanced the first one from his backpack, flipping it open. A dozen different drawers were within, each one containing crystals of different types. He selected one, then held it in one arm towards the opening in the sky. He felt the heat instantly, as it glowed bright orange in a sudden, incandescent burst. Perfect.

While Charlie filmed, Derek removed the rest of his raw materials. His spellbook came last, an ancient tome on yellowing paper easily twice the size of a phonebook. He balanced it delicately, flipping through ancient pages. The print within was uneven, faded in places and smeared in others from an original printing. Yet there was more here than anything he'd read in any college textbook.

"So what's your explanation for it?" Charlie asked, a few minutes later. He'd circled all the way around, crossing the stream and back to get a view of the other side. "You tricked me into throwing that specific rock? It's a magician thing, I just didn't know the rock was planted." He took a few steps away, to where the forest proper began, then dug in it with his boot, kicking aside small stones in his search for something a little bigger.

"It's a vortex," Derek said. "This is exactly what the occult community of Shipton has been waiting to see. It's an immensely potent source of magical energy, so strong it has bizarre effects on objects, people, and plants."

"A vortex," Charlie repeated. He hefted a much larger rock this time, the size of his fist. After turning it over in one hand, searching for who knew what, he threw it as hard as he could, laterally.

It smacked straight through the vortex, knocking the smaller rock out of the air as it went. Instead of settling into an orbit, this rock seemed to turn in the air, blasting straight back at them. Charlie dodged, and it hit the bark of the tree beside him like a gunshot. Splinters of wood rained down around him.

"Damn! Okay, okay! You don't have to... hex me, or whatever. That could've broken my head open!"

Derek winced, turning away from his friend to return to his work. He stuck the little shard of crystal into the wand he had prepared under the light of the full moon, then secured it with a few drops of superglue. Only when it was dry could he began to trace in the mud beside the water, imitating the shape of the diagram in his book.

"I didn't do that. I can't do anything with the vortex, yet. But that's why we're out here. I'm the one who found it, so the power it brings will be mine. Maybe even enough that you change your mind."

Charlie raised both hands, defeated. "Alright, alright! Maybe there's something to all of it. I'm willing to see it through, anyway. So long as you're sure it's not all..." He waved one hand. "Like, demonic or whatever. Is that where the magic power comes from?"

"Doubtful." Now that he was started, Derek didn't need to take his attention from his work. "But that is the first thing I want to find out. We talking demons, we talking somewhere more useful? Before I get any power out of that for our own purposes, I have to find out."

Charlie untied the sweatshirt from around his waist, settling it on a nearby rock before hopping up. He looked down, watching closely. "I'm not admitting I believe you yet. God, you should be the one trying to convince me. You're the one with the degree. Were you actually at Hogwarts that whole time?"

Derek didn't laugh. But seeing Charlie's familiar cheerfulness was enough to help him relax. Right in front of them was a hole to somewhere else, and his best friend barely seemed to care.

"No, that was on weekends. Just don't get too comfortable—when the sun goes down, I'll need your help. It takes two people to make this ritual work, and they have to know each other well."

He didn't have a girlfriend, or that would've been better. Charlie did, but it shouldn't interfere too much. Charlie's relationship was new, but they'd been friends for years. Almost thirty years now.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," Charlie said. "Magical rituals and religion..."

Derek didn't look back to see Charlie's expression, but he didn't have to. "You were just lecturing me about skepticism, you can't back out now! Besides, you can't tell me you're not a little bit curious. We have to find out where that goes."

Charlie grumbled, but didn't argue. As good as an admission as Derek was likely to get from his old friend. He'd never admit he was wrong, not without having the truth beat into him.

When night finally fell, Derek would do exactly that.

Chapter 7: Colors and Feathers

Charlie wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to cry. She was too big for that, too old for that, too brave. The last time she had cried, it was because there was bone poking through her skin from a devastating compound fracture.

Yet the horse's words cut even deeper than any broken leg. Bones could be reset, legs stitched, and muscles mended. But what if she never got to see her home again?

"I have a..." She tried to form words, but her tongue tripped over itself. Some of them hurt her head, most just hurt her heart instead. In the end, her insensate muttering dissolved into something small and pathetic. "You said we could go home."

Something touched her shoulder—the horse's leg, somehow warm and gentle. It didn't upset her, though it should have. Charlie hadn't ever been big into physical contact, but somehow this didn't bother her.

"I'm sorry... but I didn't lie. There's good news, too!" Something ran through Charlie's hair, which was far longer now than she'd ever grown it out. The horse was stroking it, making gentle cooing sounds.

Slowly, she began to relax. Derek too, as the louder crying quieted. After a few minutes of pain, her tears dissolved into sniffs, then just heavy, uncomfortable breathing.

Just because she said it doesn't mean it's true. She could be wrong, or lying. Relax, Charlie.

She did.

"There is good news," the horse went on. "But first... I should tell you my name. I'm Lovely Weather—or just Lovely, if that's easier. I'm the pony that Equestria sent to Willowbrook, to watch out for little fillies and colts just like you. Can you... tell me your names?"

Charlie opened her mouth to answer, without even thinking. Then her head began to pound, and her word dissolved into an unrecognizable whimper.

Derek made a similar noise, which was all Charlie needed to know about how well her friend was doing on that score.

"Can't," Charlie said. "Can't say it." She stood up, shaking her head violently to one side. But if she expected that to make it easier, she was mistaken. The word still wouldn't come out.

"Okay..." The larger horse stood up, taking a single step back from them both. "Well, we'll need something to call you. Since you don't have cutie marks... hmm." She tilted her head to one side, thoughtful. Charlie imitated her, lifting one of her wings to get a slightly better view.

Apparently the mare hadn't been expecting that, because she grinned suddenly. “Until you want to be honest with me and explain what you’re called, I’ll just say your name is ‘Orange.’ You think about that, okay?”

Orange. Charlie turned it over in her head. It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever heard. It could've been something pathetic, or maybe girly. It did sound small, but then she was pretty small. Of course, the real test wasn't whether she could think it.

"Orange," she whispered, as though she could somehow avoid the curse by reducing her volume. Apparently she could. "Orange. Hey, I can say it!"

"Perfect." The mare, “Lovely,” turned towards Derek. "And you... no cutie mark either, so no shortcuts. But that coat is such a lovely shade of lavender, like a flower. Can I call you that?"

Derek shook her head once. "I don't wanna name that's just a color. I'm not paint."

"Oh." Lovely giggled—a sound that was somehow far deeper than either of them, even when they were speaking normally. "Do you want to tell me what you’re actually called?”

Derek shrugged. Her face was still wet with tears, eyes still swollen from the magical effort. But nothing came out.

"Purple." the mare said. “I’m sorry, it’s just a color. All the more reason to be honest with us about what you’re called. Or you can tell the ponies who will be taking you hope, and they can tell me. Whenever you feel like it.”

Derek nodded. "I guess that's okay. I want to tell you my real name, but--” even opening her mouth to attempt it only brought more pain.

"Of course, sweetheart," Lovely said. "And if you ever change your minds about telling me, you can go right ahead. But otherwise, that's what I'm putting on your forms."

She turned, retreating from their little bedroom. Only this time she didn't shut the door behind them, or do anything else that might trap them.

She also wasn't wearing anything over her lower body, and she was much taller than Charlie. In an instant, Charlie discovered exactly how little this adult horse cared about modesty. She blushed, tucking her own tail directly between her legs. Her wings fell limply to either side, dragging along the ground behind her.

Lovely didn't seem to have a clue what was wrong. "Come on, you two. It's time for you to meet the ponies who will be taking you home."

Ponies. The word seemed to stick, somehow. Granted, it was hard to think of anything as a pony when Charlie herself saw the world as so gigantic. But she didn't exactly have any way of taking objective measurements.

"Taking us home?" Derek repeated. "What does that mean?" Her friend did follow Lovely, though apparently she hadn't noticed what Charlie had. Maybe it was the tail in the way now. At least their animal anatomy had blessed them with one advantage.

Does that mean I don't have to worry about clothes either? So long as she kept her tail all the way down, it should do a good job. It wouldn't if I was male. But that was just more embarrassment, more confusing things she didn't want to think about.

She would have to think about it eventually, just not now. We're going to get home. We'll figure this out.

"It means Equestria doesn't want to keep you here. I can care for you, but that isn't what we want. Ponies deserve a family, even if it's just for a little while. Willowbrook happens to have two ponies with the means to care for a... surprise member."

Charlie realized what that meant in a sudden flash of confusion, eyes widening. "You mean... adopt us?" She hurried forward, past where Lovely still stood in the doorway. Far enough to get a look at the two who had come.

They were horses, just like Lovely. One was another mare, though they shared very little in common. While Lovely had wings like Charlie's, this one was somehow more... graceful, her body tall and stretched, with a whiplike tail ending in a single tuft of fur.

She also wasn't just a horse—that bone protruding from her head could make her only one thing: a unicorn.

The other was different enough that she smelled it before she saw it—a smell that was somehow stronger and more confident than either of them. A man, or... no, that wasn't the word. A stallion. Though like “mare” it carried some extra baggage. Did a stallion have to have bred before, or just be viable for breeding?

He wasn't wearing anything either, so she didn't have to wonder whether he'd be viable for breeding.

So much for hoping this was some weird all-female species.

The stallion had wings. Though instead of splayed awkwardly and twitching out of control, he kept both of his folded flatly in place.

They didn't sit like a couple, or even anywhere near each other. Instead, they were on opposite sides of the room, quietly pretending that the other didn't exist.

"We try to find a pony who will be able to offer help to the one they're caring for," Lovely Weather said, her voice finally cutting through to Charlie. "Every creature has distinct needs. Sometimes we guess right the first time, sometimes we don't.

"But with young winged ponies like yourself, we always try to make sure that you have at least one parent who can instruct you in the proper technique. It's far harder for a pony to master flight if they don't practice in foalhood."

The stallion rose, shuffling awkwardly towards them. He wasn't the tallest creature in the room—the lean unicorn was just built differently than he was. But he towered over her, with an angular muzzle instead of the gentle curve of Charlie's.

There were some similarities to the way he smelled, details she never would've noticed about another human. They just didn't come in variations like this! But unless Charlie was crazy, there were different species in the room with her.

Unless we're more like dog breeds.

"I'm excited to get to know you," he said. His voice was gentle, the same as Lovely's in that regard. He didn't want to frighten her. My name's Dust Storm, what's yours?"

She froze, and barely noticed as Derek continued across to the other side of the room, up to the unicorn. They started speaking, and she should've been able to hear it. But she wasn't focusing on that anymore.

"I'm, uh... I'm Orange." It sounded natural on her tongue. She could give that introduction to other people... other ponies. It wouldn't be so hard.

Easier than giving up and admitting she was trapped here, anyway. I'm not stuck, I just don't have enough information yet. We'll figure this out.

"Nice to meet you." He extended a single hoof towards her, the equivalent of a polite handshake. But what was the point, they didn't even have hands?

Maybe he was used to awkward responses like hers, because he pulled back hastily, looking to the side. "Right, right. Guess you didn't have a good experience with... the place you came from. Sorry. If you decide to come with me, I'll give you something better than that."

At least when he was standing and facing her she didn't have that constant reminder of what separated them. The thing she should've had, and was missing. Maybe she should be getting used to it, but she didn't feel used to it.

She was only getting more uncomfortable.

If you decide. She glanced nervously around the room—there was a single window here, looking out on somewhere. She could see the shape of buildings out there, though the window was still too high for her to see anyone moving at ground level. She saw second and third floors. Old style buildings, like the kind she might've seen in a small town American main street. Homes built over shops.

"What else could I choose?"

She hoped she didn’t sound too angry. It wasn't like she wanted to reject this stallion, or sound ungrateful for his willingness to help her.

He shrugged his wings, a gesture so simple she needed no explanation about what it meant. "Wait for some other foster pony to come around. You could, if you wanted."

"You should think carefully about saying no, though," Lovely Weather said. Somehow she'd made her way back over, and was now just feet from Charlie. She stood just beside her, looking only a little like an overprotective helicopter parent. "Most of Willowbrook are very old, or very poor. They don't have the means to care for somepony else. Dusty here has the training to help you, and also the means."

Whatever else Charlie was going to say to object melted into that same pathetic anthem. "I just want to go home."

"I know." Lovely wrapped one leg around her neck, pulling her close in a hug. "Dusty will help give you one, at least for a while. And if it doesn't work out... we'll find somewhere else you can be happy, I promise."

Chapter 25: Fae Doorstep

Snacks procured, and soon they were on their way. Derek expected a servant to come rushing for them at any second, hurrying to drag them back to captivity in the vast manor house. The servant never came, and so every step made her feel freer.

They crossed through the holdings of House Vale, past fields of things she couldn't identify. Maybe those stalks were corn? But so far as she could tell, it was still spring, so maybe that was wrong. There were orchards too. The trees were burdened with fruit, yet they didn't look quite natural. They were skeletal and misshapen, with only patchy green leaves. Even so, workers struggled to load their produce into heavy baskets.

"Is that magic?" she asked, nodding through the fence as they passed. "Those trees look like they've got bark beetles or something. But they're still producing."

Charlie followed her gaze. Now that they were together, Derek had a chance to see things about her she'd never noticed in captivity. The pegasus moved different than either of them. She was light on her feet, and occasionally opened her wings to glide along the ground between her steps. Maybe there was some truth to urging her not to practice too much without permission. She was also taller than either of them, though Risk's horn almost made up for it.

He'd insisted on wearing the vest outside the house, along with the saddlebags of their extra snacks. If asked, he would be able to truthfully say he'd come to serve her.

"Yeah, but a different kind. House Vale serves the True Gods, not the pretender Celestia. They aren't useless like she is, only interfering when someone stops the flow of sugar and circuses into Canterlot. The Old Gods actually do help us."

Derek shared a look with Charlie. She mouthed the words, "That's what they think we are." But Charlie showed no sign of recognition. She'd need to wait for more privacy for a chance to explain that.

"It's not just House Vale who worships them," Charlie said. At least she didn't sound like she was going to give up and cry with every word. Like Derek, her friend had adapted enough to her own voice to get used to it. "I think everyone in town does. I haven't heard a good thing about Celestia since I got here."

The road wasn't wide—it was big enough to accommodate a single cart taking up the entire path, with nothing more than gravel to mark it and sometimes not even that. At Derek's size, that was fine. But they were running out of farms, and running out of road too. There were trees beyond, huge old-growth woods growing so thick and green that she could see almost no distance at all through their arboreal barrier.

"There's not much to say," Risk whispered. "But it's one of those things you can't talk about if you leave. Away from here, ponies just accept that she banished her sister. Nopony cares what happened to the other Alicorns. She saved us from Discord, didn't she? She raises the sun each day!" He rolled his eyes. "But behind all that, she's a tyrant. Ponies who cause her too much trouble, they just go away. Or if they're smart, they move here."

"Iris explained that we can't ever get discovered," she explained, mostly to Charlie. "There's something about us, Firefly. If we're found, the princess will have us killed. We have to stay boring."

"Why?" Charlie asked. Her voice sounded more hurt than angry. But that kind of pain fit the body she wore. "We've never even met her. Why would she care?"

"She shouldn't," Risk answered. Even he slowed as they reached the edge of the tree line. He lifted out his map, glancing at it again. The trail continued through the trees, though it got much narrower. They were small enough that they didn't have to walk single file, but an adult pony probably would have. "But I'm sure Mistress Vale said it for a reason. She wouldn't be wrong."

"There's a reason, you just wouldn't believe it," she said. She gave Charlie a knowing look, one she hoped could at least communicate something as simple as “we'll talk about it later.”

Risk spun, putting his back to the trees. "The Sylvan Woods are mostly safe, but there are some rules we have to follow. Okay?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Rules? Leave no trace, right? Take only P—" She melted, pressing one hoof against the side of her head.

Risk didn't notice, and kept right on going. "Never leave the path, never start a fire, never unroot a tree, and... be kind to the butterflies." He recited them in a little musical poem, keeping on-key with imaginary music as he said it. Like something he'd memorized his entire life.

Charlie shook herself out. She spoke more carefully this time. "That sounds basically like... any wilderness rules. Keep the trail from eroding, and... why would you need something specific for 'butterflies'?”

Risk shrugged. "I don't know why. But we need to follow the rules, Lilac. That's what keeps us safe. If we want the forest to accept us as visitors, we have to follow the rules."

Derek raised a hoof, silencing Charlie's next argument. She really didn't seem to be getting along with Risk very well. "It's not any sillier than anything else we have to do, Firefly. We're here looking for magic, and magic sometimes has complicated rules."

Charlie grunted, folding both wings closed. "Nothing makes any sense anymore. I'll remember. Trail, trees, butterflies. Got it."

Risk was the first to step off the trail, his horn glowing faintly in front of him as he held the map. Even so, he looked like a brave hero pushing through the undergrowth, like he was going to defend the helpless girls in his expedition.

That only made Derek more annoyed, and she hurried to keep up with him, leaving Charlie to trail behind the two of them. "It's a long walk, but I'm sure you'll be fine with that, Lilac. Earth ponies have tons of endurance. I should be able to tell when we're getting close.

They walked for at least an hour through the thick forest. They weren't silent exactly, but with Risk there they could only speak so freely. Even without magical compulsion keeping their months closed, Derek didn't feel brave enough to talk about what she'd learned from Iris, or to tell Charlie her suspicions. Those things would have to wait until they had more time, maybe later that evening.

But she was brave enough to say some things, and to answer questions.

"So can you tell me exactly what we're looking for?" Charlie asked. "Must be pretty cool if we're hiking up into the forest to find it." Her wings fluttered with annoyance. "You don't know this Risk, but last time we were together in a forest, it didn't end the way I expected. I don't really want a repeat of all that."

Risk seemed confused. "You two really do know each other."

"Yes," Derek agreed. "For a long time. Firefly, we're looking for magic. I need to find a big supply of it if I'm going to cast big spells. Risk says he knows where we can find enough."

"They're magical all right," he said. "That doesn't mean much about Willowbrook. Almost everything here is magical somehow. All the stuff the princess doesn't want, all the creatures that want to stay out of her sight, they come here. Our rules are different—nopony has to worship the True Gods, they just have to leave each other alone."

"Okay, so... I'm still on the basics here," Charlie said. "We need lots of magic to cast a big spell, like one that would... be used for traveling. Who are we getting the magic from? Not a big hole in the sky above a waterfall this time. So who?"

"Well, they're... probably out here. There are lots of stories of their little city out in the woods. Visitors sometimes go up here, break the rules, and don't come back. And they've made deals with ponies in the past. I don't really know what they want, only that my family... makes me promise to never ever go there."

"I thought you said they were nice!" Derek argued. She stopped in her tracks on the path, right in the middle of the trail. As she did, the forest seemed to come into better focus around her. This was old growth, never felled by axe or flame. The canopy overhead grew so thickly that she could see only thin shafts of sunlight glowing through the leaves. The underbrush swayed gently along to a steady breeze, blowing down from above. It carried strange smells with it, perfumes of flowers she had never seen. Some of these plants bore vague resemblance to species she knew from her Earth life. But the more she looked, the more she saw that didn't correspond easily to any of her memories.

"They are nice." Risk looked back at her, frowning. "Just so long as you're nice to them. The hard part is knowing what that means, knowing which rules matter to them and which ones don't. That's why most ponies just stay away if they're smart. Leave some honey for them on feast days and kindling to keep warm in winter, and that's it."

Charlie stopped too, though she was far more open with her annoyance. "Are you saying Willowbrook is full of weird monsters hidden away? Things that aren't people, living in secret, that hurt you if you upset them?"

Risk tilted his head to the side, staring. "Why would that be weird? That's the whole world, Firefly. Everypony is bigger and stronger and more important. We don't get to live somewhere else, we just get to decide who we want on our side. If we pick someone strong, then we'll have their protection. That's why we're coming out here, isn't it Lilac? You want somepony else to share their magic with you. Ponies can't do that, but other things can."

Charlie finally nodded her agreement. "I guess that makes some sense. Into the forest, temping dangerous forces, so we can get the power to get home. I understand."

They started walking again. The forest crowded close around them, keeping it hard to even stay on the path. There were fewer trees as they progressed, but larger, older ones. Grasses and wildflowers now dotted the space between, with both frequently crossing the path before them. Risk hadn't said anything about flowers that he had for trees, but she did the best she could to avoid stepping on those too. The tree-ents or whatever the hell was out here would probably appreciate it.

"What do you mean go home?" Risk asked, a few minutes later. How long had he been thinking about that before he asked? "Where else would you want to live, Lilac? You're like... the most important pony in Willowbrook. If the mistress doesn't have any other children, you'll inherit all of this. The farms, the forest... it's all kinda yours. Where would you want to go?"

The question made her fall silent, considering. Two weeks ago, she would've given him a very different response. But now, she couldn't quite find the answer. She couldn't bring herself to lie.

Charlie apparently had far fewer reservations. "You wouldn't understand, Risk. Lilac and I come from somewhere, a whole different place. We have families and homes there. Lilac is the expert trying to get us home again, one day."

Risk looked back at her, and there was some actual pain on his face. "Is that true?"

She looked away from him. "I'm trying to learn magic again. It's gonna take a long time before I can ever do anything with it."

"Oh." He was silent for another few minutes. The path got narrower, with underbrush crowding so close that plenty of it was over Derek's eye-level. She was so small by now that she might as well be in a jungle, buzzing insects and all. And yes, some of them probably were butterflies. "Why did Mistress Vale adopt you, Lilac? I know the family needs an heir, but... why not pick a unicorn filly for that? Then nopony would ask awkward questions about who your parents were."

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped short. She looked over her shoulder. "Firefly?"

Her friend wasn't there. She spun, circling slowly in place—and Risk wasn't there either. "Oh... crap."

Chapter 42: Mirrored Over

Lilac Empathy had the finest quarters a pony could have, the kind of luxury usually reserved for the captain and their senior staff. It meant her own bedroom, with a private bathroom, and access to the ship's “smoking room.” Not that she had ever seen anypony in there actually smoking. Or anywhere else in Equestria, for that matter.

They were good quarters, in the kind of place that she might've dreamed about exploring under other circumstances. She didn't just get to see one town in another universe, now she would get to fly over a whole continent.

Lilac had a hard time feeling any joy as she stared out the window, watching Willowbrook fade into the distance. She touched one hoof up to the glass, wishing there was something, anything she could do. But there was no arguing with Iris's logic, even if she hated the conclusion she came to.

Equestria had sent someone to hunt for Willowbrook's anomalous magic. Lilac had been so stained by that magic that it ripped out a piece of her soul. If souls could bleed, her sheets would be damp when she slept each night.

Iris had made it clear this was no vacation for her. Captain Aurum had been explicitly instructed to refuse her access to any book of thaumaturgic theory or spellcasting. The unicorn looked baffled by the command, but swore to it, nevertheless.

If only she knew she had been about to be banished for a month, she could've given herself a nice reading list to make the time productive.

She circled around the empty room, turning out the drawers in the fine desk, even the bathroom. They couldn't leave her in a prison cell, could they? They needed to give her something.

She found a stack of fine parchment along with a quill and ink. That was all too much trouble for a regular pony to be bothered. But these quarters were meant for a far finer creature than herself.

She had to carry them all to the desk in her mouth, then move over a few cushions to fit. Finally she found a perch, and started scribbling. The letter was not in an Equestrian language, which meant it would take far more time and deliberation to write. As far as she knew, that would also make it entirely impervious to deciphering.

Even Iris got extremely uncomfortable at any mention of Lilac's past life these days. That initial curiosity had long since died, as soon as the cultists realized the place they came from didn't worship the “True Gods” in an endless ecstasy of blind adulation. So her first language was safe.

It wasn't just harder to write, it was also easier to cause pain for herself while she wrote. There were far more “trigger words” that provoked the geas upon her mind.

"Dear Charlie,

“I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I wanted to tell you when I left, but Iris wouldn't—"

She stopped dead, staring down at the page. She mouthed the word, expecting the knife in the back of her brain. With each second, she tensed up a little more. Nothing happened. No migraine, not even a sympathetic throb of strained blood-vessels. "Charlie," she said out loud.

The room reacted.Wood creaked and groaned, and for a second it felt to Lilac as though the walls themselves were curving in on her. They pressed down close, like they would swallow her—but they didn't.

She settled back against the cushion, baffled. There was another word she wanted to say, the one she had longed to take back for years now. She could not remember it. But the rest was still there.

Lilac considered what to do next, before scratching out the word “Charlie” on the page, and covering it with a scribbled replacement. It would look silly to her friend, but they also didn't communicate with notes much. Maybe she wouldn't realize.

"I'm on an airship now. Captain Aurum seems like a nice pony. He's loyal to my family, and so he gave me some of the nicest quarters to live in. He says he'll give me stamps at any port we visit where I can send letters back to you. I won't make them long, that would just waste your time. But this is the furthest any of us have gone into Equestria, so we might learn something cool.

"We don't even know how big it is compared to Earth. I've thought for a long time that there are fewer settlements here, with far fewer people. Some of that could be interesting, and maybe explain the difference in technology." She hesitated at the word “semiconductor,” and thought it was probably not one she should try to get away with. "It takes a lot of ponies working together to create advanced stuff. If there are fewer of them here, they would need a substitute. Maybe even a magical one?

"I don't know if anypony will tell you, or if it will matter by the time you receive this. In case they don't, Equestria is sending a team to hunt for us. Iris tells me that if they discover what we are, they will kill us. The princess is terrified of what we are, and the ways we could change Equestria. I believe my mom.

"Burn after reading. I will write again as soon as I know more. I don't know how long I will be gone. Maybe a month, maybe a year. Captain Aurum says that a lot of that depends on weather conditions over the ocean. We have a long route leaving Equestria, can you imagine that? There's a whole country with no one living there but dragons. There are some even stranger things out there too, if you go far enough. But I'm sure the Magna Vale won't be going anywhere dangerous. We're just a merchant ship, and Iris said it's the safest one.

"You stay safe too, and don't give up. I know how scary that was, but it will be better next time. I won't try again until I know what happened and I'm sure we can stop it.

“Love,

“Lilac Empathy"

She turned over a few other ideas for extra notes to include, but ultimately rejected them. The first port, Canterlot, was coming up soon. Better to include less detail in the first message, in case the investigation was still going on when Firefly got her letter.

She tucked the coded message away into the drawer, capped the little vial of ink, then hopped down out of the chair. Guess I live here now. Where should I start?

She turned back to the bed, where a single heavy bag rested. It was weighed down heavily with books, though sadly none of them would be terribly interesting to her. She flipped open the flap with one hoof, just in case Iris had given her something useful.

It was just her schoolbooks. Her unusual position at Whispering Willow did mean she had a few magical history texts. But as far as ponies knew, she couldn't cast any spells of her own, so there was nothing practical here.

There was also nothing to wear. None of her journals or the scientific instruments she had collected over the years. Nothing at all in fact, but a single acorn she had smuggled out with her. She lifted it up, tucking it reverently away behind her ear. If she wanted to get any magic done over the next few weeks and months, Lilac needed to get it sprouted.

She drew the curtains open, letting sunlight stream onto the desk. That was plenty of light for something to grow, particularly with an earth pony tending it. She just needed some soil.

Lilac emerged from her quarters a few seconds later, hurrying down the hall. It was quite narrow, with rooms on either side and airlock-style doors. Despite the limited space, ponies never used ladders, but tight spiral staircases instead. The perils of not having hands. She kept her head down, making her way towards one of these. She needed to find the quartermaster, then maybe.

"Young miss," said a sharp voice, sharp enough to stop her in her tracks. Firefly looked up, and found a lean pony facing her down.

She wore a simple white bow, along with a pair of horned spectacles and a bookbag of her own. Her expression could cut flesh. "I wondered when you might finish faffing about within your quarters. If you're ready, there is much for us to do."

Lilac turned slowly to face the stranger, ears and tail tucking. The pony wasn't wearing the family colors or a uniform, which meant she wasn't crew. "Are you one of the passengers?" Lilac asked politely. "I think you must be lost. This deck is for the crew."

The unicorn only grew sharper. Her horn pulsed briefly to life, then dark again. Whether that was a deliberate threat, or just the way she managed her emotions, Lilac didn't know.

"Nothing of the sort, young Miss Vale." She extended one polite hoof towards her, shaking Lilac's so briefly that she hardly even felt it. "My name is Keen Focus. I have been hired as your governess and supervisor for the duration of this voyage. Your father could not abide the thought of the progress you might lose during this trip."

My father? Amaranth, the harsh unicorn pony who wanted nothing to do with Lilac. She still understood the unicorn little, and did her best to avoid him whenever she could. Most of the time he was detached from affairs in Vale Manor, leaving Iris to run everything. But then he'd go and do something like this.

"I don't think I need..."

She felt a sharp, painful smack along her flank. It stung only for an instant before fading again—the strength of earth gave her resistance to insignificant injuries. It wasn't painless, even if there was no lasting harm. "This is not a question of what you think, filly. Your father's instructions were quite explicit, and included no room for you to decide otherwise."

She glanced past her, at the open doorway Lilac had left. "I see you left woefully unprepared, as well. This is the fearful attitude he impressed on me before I boarded this vessel." She strode right past Lilac, through the open doorway. Several suitcases floated through the air behind her, each in a perfect row.

Controlling so many objects at once marked her as a unicorn beyond the average in capacity and discipline. From what Lilac saw at school, most never had that much willpower. It meant she couldn't underestimate this mare.

She levitated two cases onto her bed, then they unzipped.

There were dresses inside. Skirts, bathing suits, bows and jewelry. She recognized all of it—all this hung in her closet, the clothing Iris had once pressured her to wear. But the mare had long since seen Lilac's potential, and gave up trying to force her.

There were no trousers or jackets. Nothing without lace and hearts and bright colors. "There we are. With Amaranth's permission, I've included a particular item in all this, the same I use for each of the young mares I train."

She levitated a single dress out from within, one of slightly off white with a simple cut and plain pattern of black lines. Like all Equestrian clothes, it did nothing for modesty. Wearing clothes like this was playing dress up, submitting to the world she had been trapped in.

"You will put this on, Lilac Empathy. Then we will begin your lessons."

Lilac faced her in the room, ears pivoting backward. She wanted to smack this horse right in the face, shove her out the door, and lock it again. But this was exactly the kind of thing Amaranth would do. That stallion wanted her to give him an excuse. Question his authority enough, and he could disown her. Where would she be without House Vale's protection?

She whimpered, then finally dragged her way over to the dress, and put it on.

Lilac's trip just got a lot longer.

Chapter 55: Before the Blade

Lilac wished that Saffron would be anywhere but here right now. There was good reason she hadn't gone out into the Grove, despite her promises and the growing cost waiting to be imposed against her if she refused.

To face this fairy would be to meet the one who knew what she had done. His words would bring her just condemnation. But what he said now, if true, would be even more painful.

"All this time you lived with the Lightless Star," Saffron continued. "Did you ever believe what they told you? Their story of the world of before—"

Lilac sat up, spinning on him. She pushed off Firefly as she did so, more by accident than anything. The pegasus was so light she just flopped to the side, spreading her wings to catch herself. She stared with no less energy than Lilac herself.

"You told me you didn't know what happened before," Lilac said. Saffron hovered close, a few inches from her face. "I asked about the past, and you said—"

The bug smiled. "I said what was true, that the Grove as we know it did not exist until the Old Ones died. We can't speak to you of what we never saw, this is true. But that does not mean I told you everything. Those who were banished, dead but not dead—we have seen, as ponies have seen, beyond the pale touch of sleep."

Lilac hopped down from the bench, forcing the two winged creatures to follow. Firefly trotted behind, keeping her distance. Her friend knew this mood well enough to stay out of her way until she calmed down.

She reached the back of her fancy bathroom, then flung open one of the linen closets there. Except that there was no linen inside—here she had shelves of books, and tacked-up spell diagrams. She stomped inside, all the way to the map she'd drawn of what she understood of pony cosmology.

There in the center was Equus, probably a planet. Below it was the plane of Rock, and below that, Abaddon, the Fathomless Void. Below that, somehow, was her Earth, sketched with as much detail to the true shape of the continents as any grade school student.

"I don't have the patience for riddles right now, Saffron. I'm dying, did you know that? And you already know what happened on the Magna Vale." She smacked one hoof directly at her planet. "Here's where Firefly and I came from. We were casting our own spell, then got ripped up through Abaddon, and into Equestria. I'm guessing when Lightless Star did that, they let some kinda demon in that they had to fight. My mother never gets into the specifics, but she talks about the previous attempts like they ended badly."

"Sure," Saffron said. "Child of chaos, I feel the pain you carry. You lost love, and you feel your life will soon be taken as well. Did I not warn you that travel beyond the Gate would be fraught with heartache? Did I not warn against the practice, beg that you touched any realm but this?"

Firefly paced back and forth behind them in the narrow space. She eyed her various posters and spell-diagrams without any sign of recognition. "Love?"

Lilac ignored her, for now. "I know! I bucked up, Saffron! I ignored you, and I ignored Iris, and I ignored every scroll and tome I ever found on Worldgates and Somnal slides and everything else! I can't stop it from happening, I can't change the past. How do I undo the damage I caused?"

Saffron buzzed past her, over to the map. He squinted at it, bobbing up and down near the bottom of the diagram. Then he lifted one of her colored-pencils from the shelf beneath it, the same color for the vague purple clouds she'd drawn to represent Abaddon.

He added a few more light touches, expanding them down until they surrounded Earth. "First mistake, apprentice—reference bias. You crawled from this black abyss, so you tell yourself it must be different from the space around it." He panted under the weight of the pencil, and dropped it quickly. As soon as he was finished.

"There. You wonder why your friends cower and crumble beneath the Void's unmaking gaze, their memories unwrit. Your minds are not mightier—they are more familiar."

"Our home is nothing like that monster we saw!" Firefly said. "It's like Equestria. The sun rises and sets, the people speak common languages. Flesh doesn't melt and twist and memories don’t get erased. E—" she choked, whimpering with pain.

Saffron rarely spoke with other creatures. But then, he rarely even appeared when other creatures were around. He knows this matters to her too. Either that, or this was a rare moment of compassion for the fairy.

He spoke now. "You assume there can be no order from chaos? Total disorder is a vacuum, pegasus, an endless expanse of particles that never interact. Chaos exists on the gradient between. Abaddon is not one place—it is a fractal infinity of all possibilities and none, all places and none.

"When the ancient Alicorns were banished there, we cannot know where." He tried to balance on a pushpin, then nearly slipped off, and just gave up, hovering there. "A bond leading down already existed, your memories of home. This did not drive you to madness and would not kill you. But now something far darker has your name. It will never give it back."

Lilac froze, waiting for the other hoof to drop. Her mom might not know what would happen to a pony in her position. But if Saffron told her she would die, it was true. The fairy could not lie.

"Unless you wish to join it, you have only one choice—sever what remains of your bindings to your stolen name. He who is Derek Ashsen cannot tug away parts of yourself if they bind to nothing."

She settled onto her haunches, staring. "What does that mean?"

"It stole your name," Firefly whispered. "Does that mean she has to give up everything connected to it? Her memories of home? Her history, her hobbies, her friends?"

"You gave up most of that already," Saffron said. "Nothing so direct. Memories are patterns, not sympathy. Sympathy is in attachment.To know a fairy lay your egg is your mother, that is knowledge. To flee to her for comfort, that is sympathy."

What did that even mean? Lilac didn't have to forget about being from Earth, but she had to give up her attachment to that knowledge? She had to abandon the parts of herself that tugged on her stolen name.

For now, the specifics didn't matter. Perhaps it would be the struggle of a lifetime to figure out how to do it—maybe it was something she could decide in a weekend. It brought a flood of relief either way. How long or how hard the journey, that was secondary. Saffron's instructions meant it was possible.

I'm not gonna die.

"Saffron," she began, her voice low. "Tell me the truth. Is there no way for Firefly and I to go back home? No spell nobody's invented yet, no ritual, no perfect combination of magic. Nothing?"

Saffron sighed. "How long have you been my student, and still you expect easy answers. I can't banish all uncertainty and promise it's impossible."

He landed, directly on her nose. Those little hooves threatened to make her sneeze—so she held her breath, perfectly still. "If you cleave to this desire, your bindings to your stolen name will remain powerfully with you, no matter what you do. There is no sympathy stronger than the one we choose for ourselves, Lilac Empathy."

Firefly draped her wing around Lilac's shoulder. She held her there, as desperate a hug as their first waking in Equestria. "I want to remember my old life, Lilac. But those people, those places—they've moved on. My family must've had a funeral a long time ago. I hope Sil-Si-my old girlfriend found someone else to live with. I'm sure she took good care of my dog. I think maybe it's time we give ourselves permission to move on too."

No. Her whole body tensed reflexively, as if preparing to run. But there was nowhere for her to run to—she could circle the entire universe and never find her way back to the place she left behind.

She couldn't just sit there with her breath held—she had to move, doing her best to keep still for the bug. Saffron would be annoyed with her if she flicked him off. "That's what you meant earlier."

Firefly nodded. "I just wanted to give you, like—permission. When we first got here, I remember how insistent I was. I needed you to get me back home. I don't expect you to. If you could open a door right now, I'm not sure I would even want to use it. I have friends who know me now. I've learned how to fly, and I want longer to get even better at it. How can I ever get as good as Rainbow Dash and all her amazing skills, if I go back to where we came from?"

She lowered her voice to an embarrassed whisper. "Plus, I—it took me a long time to accept how I was. I don't want to have to learn a whole new body, figuring out how to be a filly was hard enough. I'd be happier to stay this way."

She doesn't even want to go home. Lilac backed away from her, so fast that the little bug slipped right off her nose. He seemed ready for it, catching himself in a low hover. Yet there was still annoyance there. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to give up on everything. Even with the best reasons in the world—"

Something banged on the door to her bedroom, so loud she actually jumped. She whimpered at the voice she heard there—Amaranth, shouting furious. "Open this door, Lilac! Now!"

She turned, kicking the closet door shut behind her and galloping across the room. She reached the front door in a few terrified seconds, and pulled the lock open. Her father was a unicorn, surely he could levitate it open without seeing it. Yet he hadn't.

He barged straight in, smelling of anger and frustration. One of the horse guards was just behind him—and not dressed in their usual duty clothes of a padded vest and billy club to “encourage” the occasional pony or animal that forgot their place. He had a full suit of chainmail, glittering with Celestia's sun mark, and a real sword.

Lilac stumbled backward from them both, retreating towards her bed. Her eyes scanned the room, desperate for anything she could use to defend herself. Had she left any spells half-cast that she could channel? Was there chalk she could use for a shield? No.

Iris appeared in the doorway, but she remained there, watching. Her whole body tensed, eyes bloodshot. Had she just been in a fight?

"Lilac Empathy. I've concluded my investigation of the Magna Vale. Do you know what I found there?"

Lilac shook her head once. "N-no, father. I don't."

"No, Lord Vale," he repeated, stomping one hoof.

"No, Lord Vale."

He paced into her room, eyes scanning the open wardrobe, the large bed filled with possessions. He clicked his tongue once, disapproving, before turning back to her. "There was no sign of corruption anywhere on the vessel. No strange artifacts, no star-refractors, no thaumic demodulator. Not even a hint, particularly in Keen Focus's quarters."

She kept her eyes down, shoulders slumped. This stallion was more like a timberwolf, eyes searching for weakness. She could show him none. "That sounds like... good news."

"Indeed," he said. "It means a deeper mystery, filly. Keen Focus has regained her senses somewhat, and looks to be making a full recovery. She seems intact, save for one thing. Do you know what that is?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. Instead he yanked on her with his magic, dragging her head towards him, forcing her to see. "She doesn't remember you. Not a single lesson, not a conversation, not a meal shared together or advice over a dress. You've been erased from her."

He stretched tall overhead, looming near the ceiling. "I demand an explanation, filly. How is it that a unicorn of great power and distinction has been scoured by dark magic? What did you do to her?"

He nodded, and the armed soldier followed him over. Lilac didn't recognize the face under the helmet—was this one of the guards who pulled his carriage to Canterlot every month?

They were a unicorn, whoever they were, because they used their magic to lift a sword gently into the air, resting it on one shoulder.

Waiting for her answer.

Chapter 75: Offering

Lilac Empathy remembered this place.

She passed through a set of glass doors, along an indoor concourse with a large fountain filled with lilies, then up to an elevator with mirrored walls.

She thumbed the button for the third floor, then stared back at her reflection. The dirty mirrors gave her a place to adjust her blue dress, and make a few changes to her makeup. She'd been crying again, so it ran down her cheek, and threatened to stain her blouse.

The door opened a few seconds after the chime, but she was ready for that. She hopped the last few steps, then passed an old legal practice and a dentist's office to her familiar door.

The name etched into the glass was familiar too, even if she couldn't quite read it. The letters shifted and moved when she tried to look at them, making her stomach twist uncomfortably. But it wasn't locked, so she let herself in.

The waiting room was filled with various wooden puzzles, toys, and other things her patients could use to occupy their hands while they waited. Both of her large fish tanks sat where she remembered them, with little schools of zebra danios buzzing around in one. The other had two catfish circling along the bottom, occasionally meeting for a brief scuffle, before parting again.

Yin and Yang, so named for their dark and light colorations. Her patients sometimes thought she meant something by those names. She didn't, really.

“Hello?” she called, voice very small. She hadn't sounded so small the last time she was here. She was usually the one waiting to greet someone in exactly her position, a young patient with their parents, suffering from who knew what.

“In here,” called a voice. An older, male voice, yet also somehow familiar. It had been her voice, once. The doctor's office door was open, and quiet music began to play from inside. Soothing flutes, running water, Native American chants. It was a blurry amalgam of what she often played for her patients.

She stopped in the doorway, peeking slowly in. Something terrible would be waiting in that chair. Iris had warned her about looking through the Outer Gates. This was much, much worse.

A human sat in that chair, a young doctor with a face that was familiar and a name that was not. There was no desk to separate them, just one comfortable chair, and several other places for a patient to sit. A sofa by the window, another armchair across from the doctor. There were enough cushions that she could probably make a whole bed out of them if she wanted.

Some patients did, or they built a fort for themselves while speaking to the doctor about what had brought them.

Lilac climbed up onto the couch, where she would be high enough to look out the window. Outside, the leaves had turned to autumn oranges and yellows. They fluttered off the trees, covered the parking lot and roads. Her hometown was full of activity—people walked, drove, and biked all over, filling the streets and sidewalks.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She whimpered, wiping away tears. Her makeup smeared again, but she hadn't put it on very well to begin with. “I thought horror waited through the gates,” she whispered. “I can't travel back here ever again, not really.”

“You can't,” he agreed. He tossed something in Lilac's direction, and she caught it in one hand. It was a plush doll, a pegasus with a short mane and green under her wings. “You aren't. Is it as nice as you remember?”

She squeezed the doll close to her chest. She was older than most of her patients, yet just now she felt very, very small. “Do I still have snacks in the cabinet?”

He reached down, then slid the wooden cabinet out of the way. Inside was a mini fridge, humming quietly. He opened it, removed a can, then offered it to her. “This is what you want?”

She cracked it open, then sipped. The taste was everything she remembered—chemical and false, yet bubbly heaven on her tongue. She hummed contentedly as she tasted it, and drank in silence.

“We don't have much time,” he said, after a minute or so. “You have a choice to make. Do you know the one I mean?”

She started crying again. A few seconds later, she set the empty can on the sill, then took up the stuffed doll again. “It doesn't feel fair.”

He shrugged. “You went chasing magic. You found it. Whether that's fair or not is philosophical. Nothing about it should be unexpected.”

She sat down on the sofa, settling the doll beside her. She kept fiddling with her dress, fingers never quite still. She didn’t belong in clothes like this. But she had just drank caffeine again for the first time in half a lifetime.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “When the ancients left Equus behind, they left a few to watch, keep their children from catastrophe, and supervise their growth. Call it a habit.”

The implications of that statement washed over her. Lilac had seen the Alicorn magic used to craft Equus—she'd seen the spells that shaped it. In doing so, maybe she could come to see into the minds of those who had crafted it.

Knowing that only deepened the shame when she asked the question she already understood the answer to, through the tears and the pain. “What if I stay?”

He extended a tissue-box towards her. Lilac took it, then wiped her face. It helped, a little. It was nice to know that someone cared how she was feeling.

“You can,” he said. “There's still enough sympathy binding you here. All the magic that brought you here will be left behind at the threshold. You've changed, since the last time. The ones you knew won't know you. But you're a smart girl, I'm sure you'll find your own way.”

It was always about sympathy. That same insidious force was what the Lightless Star needed to reach through the Outer Gates. They thought they were summoning the True Gods back into reality, didn't they?

Lilac picked up the doll again, brushing its mane from her eyes. “What about her?”

He chuckled. “Made her choice a long time ago. Maybe you did too, except.”

Except for this room. Her practice, her patients, her old life. These were the pieces she couldn't forget. She gave the doll one last hug, tighter than ever. “I can't have both?”

“I'm afraid not. No matter the choice you make, there will be ripples. Some live, and some die. But you shouldn't choose for others, no matter how much you love them. The damage may be great, or it may be small. But Equus will recover in time. Those you left behind will heal the missing piece you take with you.”

This was her only chance. This creature would not lie to her. If she decided to stay, she could stay. If she left, she would leave the part of herself that lived here behind. Lilac Empathy would never see Earth again.

“Why did you leave? I know Celestia didn't betray you.”

He reached across the room, then patted her gently on the shoulder. “Think back to your basic physics, sweetheart. Magic can't be destroyed, and it can't be created. If we stayed behind when we finished building, there would be only scraps of magic for our children. One of us could be a thousand of them. Besides—the work was finished. It was time to move on, and keep building. When they were ready, they would join us.”

Lilac was in a losing battle with her tears. Her face was perpetually hot, and she must've got some makeup in her eyes, because her vision remained blurry.

He had answered. His response didn't exactly make sense to her yet, but maybe it would with time.

She wiped at her eyes one last time, then stood up. Without knowing exactly how she knew it, Lilac knew she was out of time. Something was tugging her in both directions. It would rip her apart, unless she could decide which direction to go.

“Could you... send a message for me?” she finally asked. “Since I won't be back?”

He smiled back at her, but said nothing. Outside, Lilac's view of the city became suddenly hazy. The familiar oaks blurred at the edges, becoming the mere suggestion of trees. There was a road, but she couldn't see the cars snaking along it anymore. Only the office remained.

“I'd like everyone to know we aren't dead,” she finally said. “Charlie too. We didn't drown. We're out there, with people we care about, in an amazing new world. We're happy, and I hope they'll be happy too.”

He took her hand, squeezing it in both of his. He said nothing, but he didn't have to. She could see in his eyes that he would honor her request, in some form or another.

With her other hand, Lilac reached through her dress, then her flesh. She reached all the way down into herself, and emerged with the piece that belonged here. The human psychiatrist, who had obsessed about returning for a decade. This was the one who had spent half that time consumed with guilt, blaming himself for what he'd taken from Firefly.

The part so fixated on getting them home, that she hadn't even noticed as Firefly found herself a new one.

It hurt, tearing it out. But this wasn't as brutal and unnatural as when the unmade stole a piece of her. In a way, this sacrifice was healing that injury, leaving behind the flayed ends that tied her to a place that was no place, and beings that had never been.

There was no blood, only regrets. She offered it to the stranger, and he took it.

“This is not goodbye, Lilac Empathy. So long. Until we meet again.”

Light suffused her, shining into her eyes, searing her body with sudden intensity. It was so bright she started to cough.

Then she realized she was submerged. Slime surrounded her on all sides, filling her mouth, eyes, and nose. She hacked and coughed, suddenly realizing just how much pain she was in. Lilac was dying!

Something gripped her by the foreleg, a faint magical glow she could feel even though her eyes were entirely blinded by slime and pain. She focused on it, relaxing her body despite the burning in her lungs. She let it drag her until she felt it break the surface of a liquid.

She fought with the rest of her body, kicking with all four legs, clawing her way out!

Something on her head broke the surface a little sooner than the rest of her, piercing the surface tension and finally letting her free.

Suddenly, Lilac could see where she was again. This was the Low Place, deep beneath Cyan Mines. A thick black ichor covered every surface, several inches deep along the cavern floor. But it was thickest in the center of the diagram, where she had been standing.

The cultists were gone, their ritual circle was broken—instead, there was only the pony pulling her along in her magic, the same one who had fought her way across the Low Place.

Her mother looked much worse than Lilac had ever seen her. Her whole body was covered in black ichor, along with several magical burns seared into her coat. Even so, her horn kept glowing. When she saw Lilac struggle, she reached out with her foreleg, yanking her from the slimy surface holding her with raw strength. “I've got you, Lilac! Hold on!”

She did, clinging to the unicorn with all her might. Together, they managed to cross the room, back to the open entrance doors. Black slime spilled out here too, though it didn't extend more than a few feet along the tunnel.

Only when she was out were her eyes clear enough to look back and see what was behind her. A black outline made from flesh and slime stood in the center of the room, with a filly-sized hole in its chest. There was no trace of the ritual ponies who had cast the spell, though Watcher's pavilion of lace was missing.

The unicorn lifted her to her chest, squeezing her tight. “How did you escape?” she asked, tearful. “The ritual was almost complete. I didn't think you would ever make it out.”

They were both covered in foul-smelling flesh-ooze, but Lilac didn't care. “I don't know... what's going on,” she finally said. “What happened?”

The antechamber was almost entirely empty now, except for... Risk! He cowered in a dark corner, as far away from the entrance to the Low Place as possible. His horn glowed, and a little dagger hovered in front of him.

Lilac wanted to run to him, but she resisted.

“The Inquisitors... sacrificed themselves, one by one,” she said. “Something started coming through... wrapping around you, changing you. Then a voice... but it wasn't you.”

A distant rumbling drew Lilac's eyes away from her mother. In the room beyond. It was a voice, rumbling so loud in the cavern that the stone shook, dislodging little trails of dust from overhead, and rattling the ceiling against its supports. “Y'AI'NG'NGAH,” it said. “YOG-SOTHOTH.”

The fleshy mass in the room obeyed, crawling together towards the outline of a pony in its center. That shape was quickly lost in the amalgamation, which began to pulse and glow, rising taller and taller. A mouth formed of stolen flesh, ringed with pony skulls instead of teeth. “H'EE-L'GEB. F'AI THRODOG. UAAAH!”

Lilac and Iris scrambled backward from the open door, retreating towards Risk, and the doorway leading back to the mines. “I told him!” Lilac whispered, her voice a terrified whimper. “The True Gods weren't there! He was only opening the door for something else!”

Something that came lumbering through the open door seconds later.

It no longer looked like a pony. Instead, the Derek Ashsen towered on two legs, in a form an older version of herself had known long ago. Now that was a distant memory, something that belonged to somepony else more than herself.

It turned its face on Lilac. She felt its rage, a fire confined by that small space. “Did you think I would forget you, writhing larva? I have been waiting for you.”