Verve

Oarkin slapped his knee in laughter, recalling his times in Erenorn for the little fawn. “You see, he was a big man! But my father was not bright - he was a true Southern Spear, who had little magic. Unlike my Seraph mother! My mother was the smart one. She taught me the ways of the world, how things worked - simple things! But my father, he was good. He taught me to stand up for myself, to look after the weak and be kind. He was a funny man! Very funny, I miss him.”

Calia’s soft hooves had wrapped tight around the bunny as Oarkin told her about all the places he’s been, his family, his home - he kindly left out the men he’s killed, the battles he’s won, and instead gave her the good side of his life. She listened on until noon, asking cute questions - about the strange horses of his world, or the sentient cats. The talking giant birds. The speaking serpents. But in the end, she wanted to know more about him, her hero.

“He laughed at many things, from the small mistakes to angry men. None could scare him! He found happiness even when times were rough, because he had my mother, and he had me. You remind me of him! Very kind man, gave much to those who needed it. I wanted to be like him when I was old and bearded. And no matter the bad, he saw the good! And he was merry. The word… jovial! Yes, in Sarin. That’s it.”

“So what happened to him, Mister Oarkin?” Calia rested her chin on the top of Hoppy - the name she came up with - her silvery blue eyes gleaming. At that, Oarkin fell a little quiet. His usual mirth dimming.

“He passed as he lived. You see, Erenorn is not a good place to be. With many good things, there are many more bad - and his love for my mother was something Seraph did not like. They called me foul blood, because I was half of her - and half of him. On a cold winter night, many of the bad Seraph came to our little town - Altai Krom, with the worst… ah, intentions. Proklyanite ikh, they brought magic fire, during our moon festival. My mother died to daggers in darkness. My father passed when his throat was slashed. I was only forty, and lived close by. I hurt many bad men - but I had to help the molodoy, the young - and I brought them to safety.

“My father died a hero, and so did many others. The Seraph found my mother - and thought she was a soldier, and took her body to be buried in Alma Sol. It was rough times for all, and…”

He sighed. “I wanted to do good. I trained. I grew strong. My Southern Spear blood - it gives me stony skin and strength, but I am unable to heal quickly like a Seraph. Instead, I have magic. It is simple magic, but… it is good. In the two hundred fifty years of my Mother’s death, I went to visit her grave. There, by Alma Sol - I was captured in a… proyekt, a draft. I look like a Seraph, and they took me as one - though very tall. There, I was made to fight. Simple things, first - beasts and monsters that hunted Inerts. But the Far Reaches did not like the Southern Spears, and soon, I was forced to hurt my own people.

“The mages made me work, or die. Southern Spears are strong against many things, but spells - good ones, with skill - can bend or break us. We are a people without magic; only immense strength. This is why we fight.”

At that, he ended his explanation with a pat on his legs; as if brushing off the dirt. A habit he grew accustomed to in Seraph lands, as he often had to kneel on the floor; chairs were rarely in his size. Standing up to full height, he grabbed the chess set - or Knight’s Challenge, for White Tail - and set it on the bed.

“Calia, you are very brave. You do not cry, why? Tell me.” Oarkin frowned, setting the pieces together as quickly as his large fingers would allow. The little fawn smiled, her eyes lighting up.

“Because my mom told me, that no matter what happens - there’s good in the woods, and she’ll be watching from the stars to make sure I’ll see the twilight again. To always be happy when I can, because you never know when your happiness will turn to moonlight. Dad… he wasn’t the same when mom passed. I used to make him breakfast to cheer him up, but… all he wanted was more wine. Especially when we couldn’t sell any more pumpkins, and we had to leave the farm. Now, we live here and he works making metal things. Sometimes, he would become really sad, and cry that mom was gone - and… he would drink. And he would get angry. I knew that wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he hurt me.”

Calia rubbed her small cloven hoof along her much too thin leg, settling her nerves. A turn in her mood soon settled in, as her voice grew small and weak. “But mom was right. I should be happy when I can, if not - what else do I have? I don’t have… I…”

For the first time since he found her, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. A timid bleat followed, as she began to shake, clutching Hoppy close.

With soft shushing noises, the giant seraph scooped her up in his arms, holding the little fawn to his chest. Though this little doe was small - her heart was big, as big as a mountain. She had been through enough. Her hero was here. That is what matters most.

Celestia secluded herself in her once shared bedchamber; she locked the door, fitted a chair beneath it, then finally latched and shuttered the outside window. She wanted no distractions. Now, it was just her, and her past. And nopony would take that from her.

The last thing she wanted was Vee, or Arin - or even Aster trotting in with questions and needs unmet. They could wait.

She turned to the first few journal entries, reading quickly and quietly to herself.

Moonday, 6th of Neighpril, 67 -

That’s odd - the date begins at nearly seventy years. But by all Equestrian calendars, he would have been banished to the mute between planes - Purgatory, by then, when he and the Pillars of Equestria imprisoned the Pony of Shadows. This may imply that when her mother took the throne, this could have been a new era. She was around the age of one hundred when the Entity came…

My research into the planes surrounding the Prime has been relatively unsuccessful, as few historians kept notes regarding Queen Laurel’s disappearance. From what I can gather, during Laurel’s battle with Grogar, she channeled an immense power and attempted to end him and his foul magic from all of Equis. But he somehow escaped this event, and her spell failed catastrophically - a green crack in the sky formed, and Grogar used his power to banish her to this new… dimension, perhaps. Before fleeing far, far East - to his homeland.

I originally believed that Queen Laurel had been thrown into one of the many outer planes surrounding ours - but this is strictly not the case. It appears to be some form of powerful teleportation magic, or perhaps a tear in reality itself - and the effect launched Laurel into another world, far beyond our magic’s reach by our current understanding.

Queen Laurel… would this be Celestia’s grandmother? And what he described, the Green Scar - Celestia was sure of it. This would mean that Queen Astra took the crown after her own mother’s disappearance. This journal doesn’t state when it began - Starswirl was still young when he taught her and her sister, but this would imply Astra was very young when she started her rule, and he might have been born during her reign.

I shared this information with Queen Astra - curse her name, a foul wench to think I am too young to study this! But I digress; she was saddened to hear the news, regardless. I will continue my research into this ‘dimensional rift’ of sorts, in the hopes of one day being able to summon, or even teleport, Queen Laurel home.

Before Arin's arrival, she received a letter from King Leotoln - and it mentioned a red maned mare. This could have been Queen Laurel, her grandmother, from the history books. Arin also spoke of sentient animals in his world… and the magic of Equis gave critters varying levels of intelligence - does this mean that Seraph and Pony magic are one in the same? It is likely - Arin’s potential shows this. Could Queen Laurel still be alive? If Leotoln sent a letter and mentioned her in some light, he might have assumed that the Princess would know about her own history. Though nearly no historical accounts exist; simply put, she only vaguely recalls the notion.

The next few journal entries concern the development of a few techniques to teleport vast distances, including what looks like to be the first iteration of the Portal Gate spell - he was an expert on this subject, once Equestria was established. This would explain why. He simply didn’t study it on a whim, he was trying to bring Astra’s mother home.

The journal entries were sparse - the occasional page had been cut and torn loose, or even with the librarian’s repair - was simply impossible to salvage. The next legible and useful entry was five years later, it seemed.

Twinsday, 20th of Neigh, 72

I can not believe that Astra; she has stolen my heart. It delays my studies by the hour, with mere thoughts of her - how could I have been so blind?

...Starswirl fell in love with Queen Astra? And - wait… Lord Mapleheart, he said… Astra fell in love with a simple gray unicorn. Could… Could Starswirl be her…

I have spent many a year by her side, at first as an apprentice - and now, a partner. And soon, my wife. She will outlive me, to see eternity of course - but my heart will burn for her, for decades to come. I did not expect her to propose to me the very idea of us coupling; it had come from the dark like a knife! If anything, I will continue to search the stars for Queen Laurel - not to replace Astra, but to free her from the throne so that we may revel in love unbidden. I have a few theories I’d like to attempt; using the distant powers of the astral plane, I might be able to channel a summoning spell. A beacon of light. I must simply find the alignment of stars necessary to amplify this magic, to call to our missing Queen - and it will reveal her to me - no, to us both.

A beacon of light. Hope. He hoped to find her, that beacon would be just that - a ray of hope in the astral plane. The Entity is attracted to hope, light, love, happiness… the positivity of a soul. Could this be what brought the Entity to Equis in the first place? It was a creature of the stars… But what was its goal? The Entity’s true purpose?

She flicked the pages forward - she’ll come back for the tiny details later, but for now, she wanted truth. All of the truth. The full story.

Windsday, 7th of Prancetember, 88

I am a father now. Two lovely twins, both sisters - we have already found the perfect names for them. Astra is named after the stars - so we named them Celestia and Luna, after the sun and moon both. Celly and Lulu. Tia and Moony. They are beautiful; a mirror image of their mother, bumbling and sweet and - by the stars, I am smitten with them. Absolutely stunning; Lulu even has my eyes! Though Alicorn blood is strong, so of course they would have the same white coat and pink mane of their mother. I never once thought we would have foals. In my youth, when we first met - I despised her! But she swayed my heart. I was persistent, and demanded no such fillies to grace our sides, not yet; but she convinced me… again.

They are the light of my world, and of Astra’s. She fawns over them, and her attention - once focused on saving her mother - has strayed. At least the White Tail were kind enough to send gifts aplenty to mark the occasion; Prince Aster himself arrived, to see the newborn Princesses. I am unsure of him; he sends many letters to my wife, my love - since before we even engaged, and still, he persists. She is my starlight. You may not have her. Though I marble at the thought of the stuttering mess of a buck’s attempts at courting her. Had I not relented to her love, she may very well have taken his offer.

Tonight, I am once again channeling light through the stars. A curious sight graced my telescope; a new constellation, a tri-colored band with several silver points forming the ring. I believe I will call it the Arcane Ring; it seems to channel my magic extraordinarily well, and could even find our long lost Queen. With some dimensional calibration, it could even pierce new layers of the planes we know, and find her in whatever fold she may lay. I will call upon my wife’s help for the spell - her power and ties to sorcery could very well be what we need to find her. This will brighten the shining star of her spirits, I’m sure of it.

Celestia flicked the page, worry settling deep in her heart. She already knew what would come of this. But she had to be sure. The page was written in a rush, the ink running in spots and the page frayed with age and wear.

Sunday, 7, Cloptober, 88 -

We called. It came. Lulu, my sweet, my favorite… I… She found you. Strangled by the black tendrils in your crib. It… it did this to you. Astra delivered you and your sister to me, and you… by the stars, you hardly looked alive. Your skin was blue, your mane had lost its luster - it felt like I was holding a corpse. What did it do to you? Celly, you were spared, but… had Astra not arrived, and fought hoof and nail to save you, I would have lost you, my Lulu.

My wife… her eyes are gone. The black tendrils bore them out of her skull. She cries out of the corruption inside of her. Even King Mapleheart and his magic could not save her. The black tentacles spear ever deeper into Equis.

I had managed to use my studies of teleportation to save as many ponies as I could. Astra… no matter her wounds, she would not relent. She can not see, yet with magic - it allows her to see our very souls, and she flies now to defeat the… it is a monster without name, without cause - an entity that prowled the stars. And she goes now, draining the sun and moon of its strength, to charge her magical ember with the magic of light to destroy this creature once and for all.

I am so tired. I have saved thousands, teleporting them halfway around the world to the Autumn Court - but dozens of thousands more had been lost. Their very astral forms devoured, leaving nothing but these… shaded husks, shadows that were quickly absorbed by the beast itself, and plunged deep into the stony ground. Or worse yet, these… heart beating corpses, lacking eyes.

It is midday, yet it is the pitch of night - a freezing wind billowing over the leaves of the refugees resting here now. With Astra’s power rising, I feel the very earth beneath my hooves shaking and churning as this Entity burrows ever deeper into our world.

None must know that it was our folly that brought this disaster upon the land. Especially Celly and Lulu. I will tell the deer simply that it came in search of souls - a lie, yes, but… if they learned that we were in-fact responsible for this…

At this point, it seemed Starswirl realized how grave keeping this evidence was - and he tossed the book into a flame. For whatever reason, it must have been rescued by another; Starswirl would have let it sizzle and turn to ash in the flames, as was the smart thing to do.

That librarian, who couldn’t even read Equestrian, restored as much of it as she could. Had King Mapleheart found this book, the remaining Equestrians would have been murdered in the streets.

...She knew what must be done. Her horn lit the fireplace up in a swirl of flames, reading through the scant pages to memorize as much as she could as she approached the fire; the good, the bad, the boring... Every bit of it implicated Starswirl as the villain, and she would not let his memory… the memory of her father, be tarnished. He was not an evil stallion. Neither were the victims of this catastrophe.

Regardless of the dozens of spells listed in the book, and the vast importance in history - some pieces were definitely better left forgotten. But why did he not tell her of the Entity? She could have researched it, found its origin, sent explorers to…

Celestia would have discovered it still existed. And she would have been foolhardy enough to try and fight it. Starswirl hid this from her so she wouldn’t reawaken the Entity.

The flame crackled, as she turned the book over the broiling heat. The journal quickly catching flame, the damning pages soon alight in a blaze. Hopefully Miss Bramblehoof was forgiving of her ‘clumsy’ hooves.

She could leave nothing to chance; if she took a few pages as keepsakes, Twilight may one day find them - and attempt to use magic to restore the book in its entirety. This would be damning to Equestria’s relations with… every creature, deer, griffon, dragon, rainbow chitin changeling - if they discovered that Starswirl’s mistake had cost half the world, and now - Nightmare Moon’s rule. This would undoubtedly cause mass conflict.

Times change. Hiding from her issues will solve nothing. Hoping others will fight in her stead will simply lead to the world’s demise. They would have to stand tall against the dark, and win. They must destroy Nightmare Moon, or risk the burrowing darkness’s wrath.

Hopefully, her plan would come into action; the remnants of this world depended on it. Thankfully, few knew what she meant when she said she had a plan; maybe this was for the best.

“Hmhmhm! Oho! Yes, hm. I see,” Vee said, preening new feathers into the pages for safe bookmarking. This translation spell was neat! Definitely a brain beneath the mane play, on her part. Maybe she can wiggle some purple pinions into the snooty princess’s soupy mind.

She closed the book on deer planar understanding. Of course, none of it was useful, it had nothing to do with her problems! But a good book to stare at and pretend to sleep to, none-the-less.

Vee sniffled her snoot, ears perking up and feathers giving the good tingles. Hm. Book. Yes, very book! It was very book, somewhere nearby - and she needed it to be book here, not there. Perhaps she sniffed up the wrong section of literature. She put her trusty snooter to the floor, a wave of ‘hmhm’s following.

“D’ohoho! That’s the good wing tingles,” she said, being an expert on all things good for preening. Vee began to flap her amazingly pristine and well tended wings out from Rainbow Dash’s room. What? She had to hide from the fuzz! Also, there wasn’t enough purple on Rainbow-fry’s bed. And she volunteered to help, so of course she had to show her thanks!

The coffee stains were accidental, of course; some days it was hard to balance a mug on your head, after all. Like today. And yesterday. But not the other day, that was a good day. Ah yes! Back to snooting. Down the left hall, hmhm - to the right, back up! You’ve gone a snoot too far! There we go. Umbra’s door. Oho! Yes, she can snoot up the knowledge from here.

Her sniffly snooter (though not as snooting as Ugly-blech-mane) sniffed under the door expertly, before using a wing to slowly, gently, quietly slap the door open with enough force to rattle the hinges.

“This is a robbery! I’m here for the book!” the Purple proclaimed, standing valiantly in the door like a true hero would. Arin nearly fell off of Umbra’s bed, losing his place in mere seconds as Umbra stared curiously at the intruding purple. Of course, she heard her coming. It was hard to sneak up on the dark mare.

“Vee, I require that guests knock before requesting entrance to my chambers.” Umbra glared, resting by Arin’s side as he studied.

“Yeah! By the Feathers, you’re going to give me a heart attack! You and the deer both!” Arin sighed, holding the book close to his chest. “How’d you even know - you know what, don’t tell me. Just get out. Go. Shoo. Scram. Go bother Tempest and Pumpkin or… something. This is important.”

Vee, being an expert on all things and everything, especially things she’s not - stared absentmindedly through Arin, preening away annoying feathers.

“Hm? Oh! Yes! Too bad, Jerk-face! Gimme the book, I need it for purple matters. Very purple matters! The best kind of matters, the ones you wouldn’t get. I can snoot up things others can’t, because they’re not purple! Hmhm!”

Arin and Umbra shared a very worried look, before Umbra nodded - turning her horn towards the tome to levitate to Vee’s grasp.

“Please, Vee. Return it in good condition. It’s Aster’s,” Arin said, now empty handed. “Which means no coffee stains, no scribbling in it, and if I find you with a box of crayons - especially purple crayons, I’m taking it away from you.”