Star-crossed

by Belligerent Sock

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Main 6, Original Character
Length: 9482

Twilight and her friends embark on an adventure across Equestria and through their earliest history.

A fire in the Royal Archives. A mysterious, unreadable scroll. An enigmatic figure cloaked in darkness. Fate conspires to draw Twilight Sparkle and her friends into a quest that will take them across the length and breadth of Equestria. From high peaks to deep dungeons, from modern streets to ancient ruins, our heroines will delve into their homeland’s earliest history, and the revelations they unearth will decide not only their own destinies, but the doom of their entire world.

Published 2012-10-01 01:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-01 01:40:02 UTC

Prologue

Prologue

A quiet night disturbed.

Ashes and intimations.

Dreadful connections.

* * *

An echoing sound beat its way through Shining Armor’s dreams. Blinking himself awake, he sat up wearily, listening as the noise drifted through the house. As his mind groggily caught up with his ears, he realized what it was.

Someone is using a battering ram on my front door.

He shook his head, chasing out the last vestiges of dream logic. No, someone was knocking on his door—loudly, and with a definite sense of urgency.

At that thought, his senses flared to full readiness. He looked toward the clock on the wall. For a summons to come this late—or technically, this early—something had to be seriously wrong.

As quietly as possible, he hauled himself out from under the covers. His horn glowed as he padded across the room; the door on the far side swung open without a sound. He paused on the threshold, sparing one final glance at the sleeping form still in the bed before closing the door behind him.

The knocking sounded again as he trotted down the stairs, taking care to avoid the squeaky steps. He felt a flash of annoyance. We just got back from our honeymoon! Give us a break!

His irritation evaporated as he glanced at his armor, hanging on its rack near the front door. Regardless of time or place, he had his duty. He breathed a sigh, composing himself as much as possible before opening the door.

He was greeted with the sight of a guard—a unicorn, dressed in the dark blue armor of the night watch—his hoof raised as if to strike the door again. He hastily brought it up to his forehead in salute.

“Sir! I-I apologize for the lateness of the hour—”

“No need, soldier,” Shining Armor said, “What’s the trouble?”

“Sir, I’m afraid it’s very urgent. There’s been a fire in the archives. Princess Luna requests your presence at the scene.”

Shining Armor felt himself tense up. Things were more wrong than he’d guessed.

“I’ll be right there,” he said, “In the meantime, get some more guards over here. There’s a station just up the street.”

“Yes, sir!” The guard saluted and galloped away.

Shining Armor closed the door, his mind racing. A fire in the archives… there could be any number of explanations. It could be an accident. Some idiot was probably using a candle for some late-night reading—no, the archives were magically-lit. Maybe they were trying an ancient spell and it blew up in their faces. Maybe Princess Celestia’s pet phoenix got loose again. Maybe—

“Shining?”

The voice shot through his clouded thoughts like a ray of sunlight. He turned to see Cadence standing at the top of the stairs. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing, love. Princess Luna needs me at the castle.”

“So something is wrong.” Without another word, she started down the steps.

“It’s okay, Cadence. You can go back to bed. I’ll only be a moment.” A red-violet aura surrounded his horn; the pieces of his armor leapt from their rack and began fastening and buckling themselves around his torso. His helmet was just about to settle itself on his head when it was caught in a grip of light-blue magic. He felt a warm presence sidle up next to him, and turned to meet his wife’s gaze.

She looked back at him, her expression concerned. “Shining Armor, can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There’s been a fire in the archives.”

Her eyes continued searching his face.

“I swear, that’s all I know!”

Her gaze softened. “All right, I believe you. Is there anything I can do?”

Stay safe from whatever trouble’s out there? “If I think of anything, I’ll call.”

Cadence smiled, reaching up to brush his mane out of his eyes. “I’ll be waiting,” she said. His helmet slowly floated down, resting softly on his head. She tilted her head up, planting a kiss on his lips. “Be careful, and hurry back.”

He flashed her a grin. “I will.” He turned, and, with one last glance at his wife, walked out the door.

A contingent of soldiers—two of each kind of pony—was waiting for him outside. The guard from earlier was with them; he clicked his hooves together and saluted.

“Detail reporting as ordered, sir,” he said.

Shining Armor returned the salute. “Good work, soldier. Now, I want you men to set up a perimeter around my house. No one enters until I return. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” The guards sprang into action, the earth ponies and unicorns spreading out to the four corners of the building, the pegasi taking wing to patrol above the roof. Satisfied, Shining Armor turned to the remaining guard.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Smoke was still wafting about the ceiling of the archives. The floor was slick and soaking wet. A pervasive smell of burnt paper hung in the air. Robed unicorns moved about the room, gingerly picking up waterlogged scrolls and laying them out to dry. A few helmeted ponies in black and yellow jackets checked the shelves for any loose embers. A shriveled old caretaker was busy mopping up the largest puddles of water.

It had taken a good ten minutes to get the fire under control. Being so old, this section of the archives lacked even a fire detector, let alone an automatic rain cloud system. The night watch, first on the scene, had had to carry water in from one of the fountains outside; they’d magically lifted buckets through a window and down the hallways, containing the blaze until the firefighters ran hoses up the stairs.

Now, Shining Armor stood amidst the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.

“—And as soon as you have it, come and find me,” Shining Armor addressed the same guard that had woken him up.

“Yes, sir!” The guard, his armor now smudged with a hint of soot, gave a salute and hurried off.

Shining Armor took a deep breath, turning to face down one of the aisles. At the far end, a pile of ash marked the spot where the last shelf had once stood. The surrounding shelves were burned almost as severely, their blackened skeletons just barely recognizable.

Straightening up as much as possible, he started forward at a cautious pace. He hated being the bearer of bad news, especially if he was bringing it to his liege.

Princess Luna didn’t respond as he moved closer. It was only when he had drawn up alongside her that she stirred.

“How many?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Shining Armor tried to sound as professional as possible. “The archivists estimate that at least three hundred documents have been lost.”

“Three hundred…” Princess Luna hung her head sadly.

“We’ll know for sure in the morning, once they’ve finished the tally.” Shining Armor forced a note of hope into his voice. “We may be able to salvage some of them.”

Princess Luna didn’t respond, her gaze drifting back to the blackened bookshelves that had once housed some of the most ancient scrolls and tomes Equestria had to offer. Shining Armor recognized the look in her eyes. He’d seen it when he and his sister were both foals, when she’d crashed his favorite kite into a particularly jagged tree. It was a look he empathized with.

“Now, Princess,” he said quietly, “don’t blame yourself for this.”

“It happened under my watch,” Luna said simply.

“Princess, if I told you half the things that have gone wrong on my watch…” he paused. All-too-recent memories sprang unbidden into his mind; he forced them away with a laugh. “Well, let’s just say some stories from my early days in the Guard aren’t fit for royal ears.”

Luna was silent a moment, but she looked better when she turned back to face him. “Thank you, Shining Armor. Your understanding means much to me.” She lifted her head high, regaining her regal air. “Do we know the exact cause of the fire?”

“Well…” he hesitated, “No. The fireponies raised an interesting point, though. From what they’ve been able to determine, the last shelf there burned all at once.”

Luna’s eyebrows went up. “Burned… all at once?”

“Yes. Whatever—no, whoever started this fire, they didn’t use a match, or a torch, or anything like that. They just lit the entire shelf on fire.”

The Princess’s expression turned dark. “So we not only have an arsonist on our hooves, but one with access to magic.”

“That’s what it’s looking like.”

Luna turned back to the ruined shelf. Reaching out with a forehoof, she pawed the pile of ash. “The problem,” she said, “is that it didn’t just burn; it was incinerated. You see how fine the ashes are? They must have burned white-hot.”

Shining Armor bowed his head in thought. “…And that sort of spell would take a very powerful caster to perform.”

Luna suddenly perked up. “Or dragon fire, perhaps?”

Shining Armor blinked. “Well, yeah. That would do the trick, all right.” He chuckled. “But if that’s the case, I’ll have to fire the entire night watch for letting a dragon loose in the castle.”

“Of course,” Luna shook her head, “The thought simply occurred to me.” Her expression turned pensive again. “What was in that shelf? What was our arsonist attempting to destroy?”

“Well, they call this wing ‘The Unreadables’ for a reason. All of the manuscripts kept here predate the Equestrian language. They’re simply too old to be read.”

Now Luna was deep in thought. “This is most puzzling. Why would anyone want to destroy texts that cannot be read?”

Shining Armor straightened up a little. “We’re going to find out, Princess. Anyone who enters the archives has their name magically recorded, and I’ve already sent for the logs. I’ve also put the guard on high alert; we’ve got additional patrols checking the grounds for any signs of forced entry, and the watch will remain doubled for as long as I see fit.”

The princess nodded. “Thank you, Shining Armor. You’ve done all I could ever ask. Now, please, get some rest. I’m sure your wife worries for you, as well.”

Shining Armor stiffened. Cadence. He wanted nothing more than to return to her embrace, but… “Thank you, Your Highness, but there’s still work to be done. I want to personally inspect the security details at the very least.”

“I understand. If there’s anything I can do…”

“The Guard won’t let you down, Princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Excuse me, sir!” The guard from earlier scurried up to them. “I have the archive log here.”

“Good work, soldier.” Shining Armor took the book in his horn’s magical aura, flipping through the pages. “Let’s see who we’ve got…”

His eyes widened, his breath seizing in his chest. He nearly dropped the book.

“Shining Armor?” Princess Luna stepped closer. “What is it?”

He didn’t hear her. His mind was racing, the pieces falling all too terribly into place. A powerful spellcaster, one interested in “unreadable” manuscripts. One with access to dragon fire… He read the name again, to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but it was there, plain as day.

“The last person to access the archives,” he took a deep breath, “was Twilight Sparkle.”

Chapter One

One

Imperative research.

A trial without conviction.

The veiled foe.

* * *

“Have you found it yet, Spike?”

“Still looking, Twilight.”

“Did you try looking under ‘A’?”

“First place I checked.”

“Maybe it’s under ‘H’?”

“Second place.”

“It has to be here somewhere. Keep looking!”

The Ponyville Library had a reputation for orderliness, and usually it harbored a safe place for every book on its many shelves. Today, however, its floor served as the abode for several stacks of literature, a sight rarely seen within its confines. Rarer still was the atmosphere of urgency filling it, projected by a particular pedantic purple pony.

Twilight planted her front hooves on the bookshelf, lifting herself up to peer at the titles. “I swear I just saw that thing.”

“You know, I think there’s a saying related to this.” Spike was busy checking the top shelves with the aid of a ladder. “Something about needles and haystacks, maybe?”

Twilight was hardly paying attention. “Nothing under ‘I,’ either!” She settled back down to the floor, gazing out at the towers of texts spotting the room. This isn’t good. If I don’t have that book…

“You know, you still haven’t told me why this is so important.” Spike said.

Twilight turned to face him. “I did tell you. It’s for research!”

“That doesn’t explain why it’s important, now, does it?”

She let out an exasperated sigh, turning back to the shelf. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the importance of ancient Equestrian ideograms.”

Spike chuckled. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t.” With a grin on his face, he resumed his search.

Shaking her head, Twilight began poring over the titles again. I guess I should be thankful he’s not prying further. It was for the best. The fewer who knew about her little project, the better.

“Hey! Is this it, Twilight?” Spike held up a large volume. It was old, its cover wrinkled, but its title was still clear: Equestrian Ideograms - A History in Symbols.

“Yes! That’s it!” Twilight all but tackled him, taking the book in a magical grip. “Where did you find it?”

“The one place you always seem to miss.” Spike smirked.

Twilight hardly heard him. Instead, she levitated a sheet of paper and quill over to herself. She made one swipe with the feather, grinning in satisfaction. “And that’s the final check!”

“Shall I call Pinkie over to celebrate?”

“Funny, but no.” She turned and began trotting across the library, lifting up the stacks of books in her magical aura. “What you can do, however, is hold down the fort while I’m in the basement.”

“So, make myself some breakfast, then take a nap?”

“Well, that, or there’s always dusting to be done.”

“Uh…”

“Or you could reorganize the books on the second floor.”

“Okay…”

“And the bathroom has gone long enough without cleaning, I think.”

“All right, I get it! I’ll keep myself busy!”

“Thank you, Spike.” Twilight opened the basement door, and began floating the books down the stairs.

“Any idea how long you’ll be down there?” Spike asked.

“A long time. And I’d prefer not to be disturbed, so if anypony comes in to see me…”

“…Tell them to come back later. Gotcha.”

“Thanks again, Spike.” With that, she descended the steps into her little laboratory, shutting the door behind her.

With a spark of her horn, she switched on the lights. A simple table was set up in the middle of the room. Hanging above it, suspended from the tree roots poking down through the ceiling, was an array of magnifying lenses and other devices. On the floor beneath it sat a completely innocuous saddlebag.

Twilight set the stacks of books down, sliding Equestrian Ideograms between Ancient Languages of the Central Kingdom and Forgotten Tongues of Equestria. Then, with a deep breath, she opened the bag. Out floated a scroll, sealed in a black case.

She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement at the sight of the thing. It was a priceless relic, an ancient mystery which had baffled scholars for decades, even centuries—an “unreadable” scroll, just waiting for someone to decipher it.

And she was going to be the one to do it.

She was sure she was capable enough. Even if generations of scholars had written off documents like this as simple historical novelties, she was certain there was something more to it. After all, it’d been years since anypony had even tried looking at one of these things. The dust that had coated it in the archives was proof enough of that.

She turned the scroll over in the air, giving the exterior a detailed inspection. It wasn’t entirely black—a few faint traces of silver filigree could still be seen worked into the case. A tarnished silver crest in the shape of a six-pointed star adorned the center.

Carefully, she unfurled the scroll. The paper inside was amazingly well-preserved; the case had obviously done its job. As expected, line after line of strange symbols covered the page, completely incomprehensible to her. She kept pulling on the scroll, revealing more of them. And more. And more. The scroll just kept coming.

Maybe this will be more difficult than I thought. She hadn’t counted on there being this much to translate. Well, she’d just have to work twice as hard.

It can’t be too difficult, right?

* * *

Many hours later, Twilight had to concede that she’d been very wrong.

There was literally nothing to go on. The symbols were unlike anything ever recorded. She’d compared them to all three of the ancient pony languages but aside from maybe a few characters, there was no similarity. She’d compared them to the languages of other cultures—Zebra glyphs and Griffon cuneiform—but there was nothing. She’d tried to discern any sort of pattern in the lines of text, but if there was one, she couldn’t see it.

When analysis of the text failed, she tried a different approach. Illusion-breaking spells, cipher-cracking spells—they all turned up nothing. She examined the scroll under intense magnification, which told her it was indeed made of paper, but nothing more. She’d even held the thing up to the light in the hope there was some invisible ink hidden on it, but to no avail.

Frantically, she flipped through Techniques of the Obsessed Linguist. There had to be something she was missing. There had to be something that would make the scroll reveal its secrets. Why bother writing something down if you don’t want anypony to read it?!

She shook her head. She could see the symbols every time she blinked; she’d been staring at them for so long. Just thinking about the scroll made her head hurt. A dull pounding filled her skull, like someone was hammering rocks in her head.

Twilight blinked, her ears twitching. No, not in my head. It’s coming from upstairs.

She listened intently as the knocking continued, then suddenly fell silent. There was a shuffling sound, heavy thumps on the floor above. The door to the basement opened a few seconds later.

“Uh, Twilight?” Spike’s voice drifted down. “There are some ponies here to see you.”

She could hear the anxiety in his voice. “What do they want?” she asked cautiously.

“You. I don’t think you want to keep them waiting, either.”

Twilight frowned, a sense of unease working into her stomach. “Tell them I’ll be right up!”

Carefully, she rolled the scroll up, stowing it back in her saddlebag. She returned her reference books to their rightful alphabetical order, then made her way up the steps. Steeling her nerves, she stepped into the library’s main room.

A pair of royal guards was waiting for her. She gave an involuntary gulp.

“Um, how can I help you, sirs?”

One of them stepped forward. “Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia requests your presence in Canterlot immediately.”

Her eyes widened. “Can I ask why?”

The guard produced a scroll, and Twilight took it in a magical grip. Warning bells started going off in her head as she unfurled it and began to read.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

No doubt you are surprised at the sudden appearance of these soldiers. Please, don’t be afraid. They are simply there to escort you to Canterlot. I must discuss a very private matter with you face-to-face. If I’m not mistaken, you should have some idea of what I want to talk about. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

Twilight looked up from the page. The knot in her stomach tightened, confusion invading her thoughts. She glanced at Spike, who gazed back helplessly, then at the guards, who stared at her with grim expressions. A hundred questions vied for dominance in her head, but one took precedence:

What the hay is going on?

* * *

The chariot ride to Canterlot took several weeks. Or at least, that’s what it felt like to Twilight, huddled between the guards as they soared through the sky.

Her initial confusion hadn’t dulled in the slightest during the trip. She kept turning things over in her head, trying to figure out what reason the Princess considered important enough to warrant sending a chariot all the way to Ponyville. She hardy registered the passing of the countryside below, or the noise of the air rushing by.

She said I should have some idea of what she wants, but I’ve got nothing. It felt like she was about to take an exam, and hadn’t studied in the slightest. She doesn’t know about that, does she?

The sun was well on its way toward the western horizon as they reached the capital. The white spires of the city rose up as if to greet them, proud and tall. The chariot dove toward the castle, angling in on a landing pad in the middle of one of the keep’s many courtyards.

They touched down, and the guards motioned for her to disembark. Twilight felt a surge of hope as she caught sight of the reception committee.

“Hi, Twilight,” Cadence said, stepping forward.

“Cadence!” Twilight leapt at her, immediately launching into their customary greeting. “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs a—” she cut off as Cadence held up a hoof.

“Uh, maybe now’s not the best time, Twilight.”

Her expression seemed troubled. The sense of unease returned. “What’s going on?”

“Well, see for yourself.”

Twilight looked around. Now that she was paying attention, there seemed to be a very tense atmosphere surrounding the castle. Maybe that was an effect of all the heavily-armed guards. Everywhere she looked, there seemed to be teams of soldiers patrolling, standing sentinel, or otherwise maintaining a martial presence.

“Something big’s happened,” she said.

Cadence nodded. “The Princess can tell you more. Come on.”

With that, the two ponies turned and began trotting toward the entrance to the castle. Things were even more on-edge inside, with roughly the same amount of guards crammed into a smaller space. Retainers and court servants bustled about, trying to keep from getting in their way.

As they dodged a unicorn carrying a pile of documents, Twilight tried to cut the tension. “So, maybe this isn’t the best time, but… How was the honeymoon?”

Cadence broke into a smile. “It was fun. Los Pegasus really is lovely this time of year.”

“Did you meet any stars?”

“Well, we both agreed to try and keep it low-profile. But when you’ve got such a—” she flexed her wings, “—distinctive appearance, that’s kind of difficult.”

“Let me guess: no shortage of paparazzi?”

Cadence shook her head. “Oh, they were everywhere. Shining just about had a fit, saying they were ‘disrupting our security bubble.’ I think the trip was a bit stressful for him.”

“Is he all right?”

Cadence turned her gaze away, a distant look in her eyes. “To tell the truth, I think he’s still shaken up about the wedding.”

Twilight gave an involuntary shudder at the memory of that particular event. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

“All of this is on his orders, you know.” Cadence gestured to the swarming guards. “He’s had about a dozen of them posted around our house ever since last night.”

“Last night?”

“Like I said, the Princess can tell you more.”

They had reached the throne room. The gilded doors were opened wide, inviting the two of them through their threshold. Even more guards were stationed inside the throne room proper. They lined the carpet leading up the hall, ringing the golden dais upon which the throne sat. Seated upon the chair itself was the Princess; she rose to her hooves as the pair approached.

“Twilight.” Celestia said, stepping down from the throne. “I’m glad you came so quickly. Though, I wish the circumstances were better.”

Her voice was the same calm, soothing tone she always used, but Twilight was sure she detected something more behind it. Anxiety flared in her stomach. She’s not… upset with me, is she?

“Cadence,” the Princess continued, “I’d like to have a private chat with your sister-in-law, if that’s all right?”

An apprehensive look crossed Cadence’s face before she gave an obedient bow. “Of course, your Majesty.” The guards took the hint, turning as one and marching out of the room in perfect order. Cadence followed them out, giving Twilight a final glance as the doors swung closed.

She turned back to Celestia with a loud gulp. She’d been alone with the Princess before, but this was hardly a study session.

“Now then, Twilight, I understand you’ve made a recent trip to the royal archives?”

Her eyes went wide. How did she…?

“Specifically, you went into the section otherwise known as ‘The Unreadables?’”

“Y-yes,” Twilight stammered. This was unbelievable! She’d kept her tracks covered; she was sure of it!

“I’d like to know what you were doing there.”

Oh, no! “I was…” she pawed the ground nervously, “I was just doing a bit of research!”

Celestia regarded her sadly. “Please, Twilight. The truth.”

Thoughts collided in her skull. Her stomach turned. Oh, no! Oh, no!

“I’m sorry!” she burst out, “I should have told you, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t think you’d mind! I took every precaution, too! I kept it well-preserved!”

“Kept what preserved, Twilight?”

Her train of thought stopped dead, flinging itself off the rails. “Huh?”

“You said, ‘I kept it well-preserved.’ What is ‘it’?”

You mean she didn’t know?! “T-the scroll. The scroll I took from the archives. I was going to translate it. I was… going to surprise you.”

Celestia locked gazes with her. “Twilight, is that the whole truth?”

She couldn’t help but shrink back a little. “Yes! I brought it back to Ponyville with me. It’s safe, in the basement of the library.”

“Twilight, this is very important: were you there last night? At home, in Ponyville?”

She blinked, dumbfounded. Is this a trick question? “Of course,” she said, “Where else would I be?”

Celestia’s eyes scanned her face for several moments; Twilight had a fleeting feeling she’d just given the wrong answer. Then the Princess let out a breath. “I believe you,” she said, “And I’m glad.”

It took Twilight a moment to process that. “Glad? Why? I thought you were upset with me or something! Why else would you call me all the way up here to Canterlot?”

“Forgive me, Twilight. I wanted to hear your side of the story before I took any action. I wanted to hear it from you in private because I feared the worst.”

Twilight stared at her, listening intently.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed all the extra security? Allow me to explain…”

* * *

“So, someone’s not only stolen my identity, but they’ve used it to… to destroy knowledge?!” Twilight said the last two words as though they were a blasphemy.

Celestia nodded grimly. “I’m afraid that appears to be the case.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Evidently somepony has figured out how to fool the archive enchantments. I’ll have the court wizards investigate further.”

“All right,” Twilight held her head up in a determined pose, “so when do we catch this psycho? I’m itching to investigate!”

The Princess smiled. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think your brother and the Royal Guard should be sufficient to handle this.” She looked out the window, to where the sun was beginning to dip out of sight. “Ah, forgive me again, Twilight, but I fear I’ve kept you for too long. I’ll have a room prepared for you.”

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine!” Twilight said emphatically. “I don’t want to leave now, anyway!”

“I wouldn’t want to deny the citizens of Ponyville their librarian any longer than necessary. I’m sure Spike is worried about you, too.”

“Oh, gosh!” Twilight’s fervor evaporated almost immediately. “I completely forgot about him!” She looked away. “Um, Princess? If it’s not too much to ask, could I borrow a quill and paper?”

“You can use mine, in fact.” Celestia levitated the implements from their spot near the throne, passing them to Twilight.

She took them as though they were the holiest artifacts in existence. “T-thank you! I’ll try to keep it as short as possible!”

She began writing her message, letting Spike know everything was all right, that she would be home first thing tomorrow morning, and that the first thing she’d check was whether that tub of ice cream was still in the freezer. “Done,” she said.

Celestia took the paper, and with a flourish of magic, it rolled itself up, sealed itself with a ribbon, and vanished, making its way invisibly toward Ponyville. “Now,” she said, “with regards to this scroll of yours…”

Twilight perked up, recognizing the business-like tone in Celestia’s voice.

“While I wish you had just told me in the first place, I think I can forgive you in light of the fact that your actions saved a piece of priceless history. As for what to do with it, I want you to keep it safe and secret in Ponyville, just in case our mysterious arsonist strikes again.”

“So… I can keep going with my research?” Twilight beamed.

“I trust you, Twilight. Just be aware of how much more valuable that scroll is now.”

“Yes! Thank you! You’re the best!” She leapt up and down with joy. “I promise I’ll be extra careful, and who knows, maybe this will shed some light on the culprit.”

A knock suddenly sounded at the throne room doors. “Ah,” said Celestia, “it’s time to cede the throne.”

With a glow of her horn, the doors swung open, revealing Princess Luna. She strode forward proudly, then stopped, catching sight of Twilight.

“YOU!” she cried.

“Me?” Twilight squeaked.

Luna zoomed forward, straight into her face. “YOU DARE SHOW YOURSELF AFTER YOUR CRIMES?! BEG FORGIVENESS, AND I MAY FORESTALL MY JUDGEMENT!”

“Um, Luna dear?” Celestia sidled into the maelstrom of speech. “Twilight is not the one who set fire to archives. In fact, she saved one of the scrolls.”

Luna deflated immediately. “Why does everything always happen during the day? Honestly, can’t you wait until nightfall to have your important revelations?” She looked down. “Apologies, Twilight Sparkle. We were not informed.”

Twilight looked up, dazed, from her position on the floor. “Huh!?” she shouted.

“Oh dear,” Celestia said, lowering her horn to Twilight’s head. With a flicker of magic, she restored her hearing.

Twilight shook the last bits of ringing out of her ears. “It’s good to see you, Princess Luna. Nice to know the Royal Canterlot Voice still works.”

“Again, my apologies.”

“No, it’s all right. I’d forgotten how… bracing it was. It’s like being in a thunderstorm; after it’s over, you appreciate the calm more.”

Luna stared at her, then laughed. “You jest, Twilight Sparkle! Surely, my voice is more akin to a hurricane!”
Twilight chuckled. “Oh, of course! Please forgive me for selling you short, Your Highness.”

“Judgment will be deferred until a later date.” Luna gave Twilight a smirk before turning to her sister. “I presume you’ll fill me in on the details of this whole affair after we conclude our business here?”

Celestia nodded. “There’s plenty to discuss, yes. For now, though, we have a night to usher in.”

Twilight looked up at Luna. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you raise the moon, Princess.”

Luna smiled. “Well, then you will find it all the more impressive. Sister?”

The other Princess nodded, and the trio wandered out onto the balcony adjoining the throne room. Celestia stepped forward, watching the last moments of the sunset. She closed her eyes, her horn glowing, as she gave the sun a final nudge below the horizon.

A black pall immediately fell over the land. For a moment, Twilight could see nothing but the stars above. They shone down, staring upon the world like a thousand white eyes. Then an azure light ignited from the tip of Luna’s horn, and she rose into the air, facing toward the east. A bright glow filled the sky as the white disc of the moon crested the horizon, climbing ever higher.

As the world revealed itself again under the light of the moon, Twilight stood in awe. It’s easy to forget just how powerful these two really are.

Luna settled back down to the ground, and turned to her sister. Celestia gave her a low bow, symbolic of her abdication for the night. The sisters turned to Twilight.

“Well? What did you think?” asked Luna.

“What did I think? That was amazing! It was beautiful!”

“It is good to know somepony appreciates the majesty of the night.” She smiled warmly. “It makes it all worthwhile.” Lifting her head high, she started back into the throne room. “Well then, time to open nightly court. I see the Captain of the Guard is right on schedule.”

Twilight turned, and was surprised to find Shining Armor indeed standing before the throne. He bowed as Luna approached.

“Captain,” she said, “I assume command of the night watch.”

“I stand relieved,” Shining Armor responded. He rose to his hooves, then visibly relaxed. “Now then, where’s my favorite little sister?”

* * *

“Thanks again for the offer, Shining.”

“Hey, what are big brothers for? My house is your house.”

The castle had gone quiet with the setting of the sun. Twilight and Shining Armor made their way through the halls, alone save for the patrols of the night watch or the occasional worker on their way home.

“You know,” said Twilight, “I was surprised to see Princess Luna taking command of the Guard. Is that normal?”

“It’s something we worked out a while back. She likes taking charge personally, and I like my beauty sleep.”

Twilight giggled. “Well, nice to see everypony cooperating for the greater good.”

“To be perfectly honest,” he yawned, “it was a relief. I’ve been up since late last night, coordinating things.”

“Cadence said you were working harder than usual. Is everything all right?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, everything’s fine. I just figured I’d better hit the ground running once we got back from the honeymoon.”

Twilight could tell he wasn’t being entirely truthful. “She also mentioned you had a bit of a paprazzi problem while you were in Los Pegasus.”

Shining Armor shook his head. “Yeah. Cadence is a princess, after all. Everything she does is bound to be recorded.”

“How did you guys get any privacy?”

“It wasn’t easy. We initially tried disguising her with a dress and sunglasses, but they saw right through that, of course. We had to switch hotels a couple times before we finally gave them the slip.”

They drifted into the courtyard in front of Canterlot Tower. The stars and moon shone down, casting the surroundings into stark contrasts of light and shadow. A gentle breeze sent the grass swaying as they walked along the path.

“But enough about me. How’ve things been in Ponyville?” he said, “Any exciting new adventures?”

“It’s been pretty quiet back home.” Twilight chuckled. “Well, most of the time, anyway. There’s always some crisis going on, especially with my circle of friends.”

“Nothing my little sister can’t handle, though, right?”

She held her head high. “Oh, you know me too well. In fact, just the other day, Pinkie Pie tried baking phoenix dust into some of her cupcakes, and—” she cut off as she suddenly bumped into her brother’s outstretched hoof. “Shining Armor, what—?”

“There should be guards here,” Shining Armor said. All trace of mirth had left his voice.

Twilight looked around. The courtyard was indeed empty. And now that she was paying attention, it seemed all too quiet. There should have been any number of animal sounds—nightingales, or owls, perhaps—but the courtyard was dead silent.

“Twilight, get behind me,” Shining Armor said quietly.

There was no mistaking the edge of command in her brother’s voice. Twilight mutely obeyed, watching as his ears flicked left and right, listening intently.

“Shining Armor, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Come on, and stay close to me.”

They trotted into the shade of the trees and hedges. Twilight hadn’t realized just how dark it was out here until now. Every shadow seemed to be a threat.

Shining Armor suddenly stiffened, coming to a halt. Twilight followed his gaze, and gasped. Underneath one of the trees was a crumpled silhouette, about the size and shape of a pony.

The pair hurried forward for a better look. It was a pony—a guard, in fact. His eyes were shut and he lay completely limp.

Twilight felt her heart skip a beat. “Shining Armor, is he…?”

“No, he’s still breathing.” He passed his horn over the guard’s body. “He’s not even hurt. He’s just… out cold.”

“Sure he’s not just sleeping?”

“He’d better not be.” Shining Armor gave the guard a firm shove. “Soldier! Can you hear me?”

The guard gave no response. Twilight looked around, a knot of fear forming in her stomach. Her eyes fixed on something else lying in the grass nearby.

“Shining Armor! Look at this!”

She trotted over to the thing. It was a bird. Its eyes were closed, but its little chest was still rising and falling, slowly.

“Just like the guard…” Shining Armor said.

Twilight looked at him anxiously. “What is this? Some sort of spell?”

“It must be. Which means the spellcaster is probably somewhere nearby.”

She gulped. “Who would do this? Why would they do this?”

“I don’t know. They have to be after something, though…” he trailed off.

Twilight waited a few seconds before speaking up. “What?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”

His eyes turned upward. “I’m thinking there’s only one thing here they could want.”

Twilight traced his line of sight, settling her own gaze on the Tower. She gasped, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. “The Elements of Harmony!” Without thinking, she broke into a run, galloping past her brother.

“Twilight, wait!” he called.

She barely heard him before vanishing in a burst of magic, reappearing at the top of the bridge leading up to the Tower’s doors. They’d been thrown open; she could see straight down the length of the Hall of the Elements. Columns, tapestries, and stained-glass windows led the way up to the vault containing the Elements themselves.

In front of the vault, almost hidden by the shadows, stood a dark figure.

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Hey you!” she called, “Stop right there!”

The figure turned, and with a flash of white light, the doors slammed shut. There was a heavy clunking sound as a locking mechanism slid into place.

“Hey!” Twilight rushed forward. Her horn sparked as she seized the doors in a telekinetic grip, willing them to open. They didn’t budge.

“Twilight!” Shining Armor appeared next to her in a shower of magic.

“There’s someone in there!” she cried. “They’ve sealed the doors!”

He looked up, eyeing the barrier. “All right, then, that means we have to—”

“Teleport inside! Come on!” She focused her magic, picturing the interior of the tower in her mind’s eye as she prepared to teleport again. She vanished with a crack...

…And reappeared a split-second later, colliding face-first with the door. A pained “Ow” escaped her lips as she fell back onto the ground, her eyes spinning. She hauled herself back onto her hooves, shaking her head.

“What the hay was that?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. The whole tower’s enchanted to prevent teleportation.”

She let out a sound of exasperation. “Well, what do we do now?”

“We go and warn the Princesses, that’s what.”

“Shining, there’s no time!” She stamped her hooves frantically. “Whoever’s in there, they can’t be up to anything good! We need to stop them!”

He looked away, frowning in concentration. His gaze flicked back to the door.

“All right,” he said, “Come on, we should be able to force our way in if we work together!”

Twilight nodded and leapt to her bother’s side. The two unicorns focused their magical power, twin auras flashing to life around their horns. The doors were enveloped in a magenta glow, and began rattling in their frame. Twilight grit her teeth; she could feel her brother straining beside her.

The doors shook harder, their hinges beginning to buckle under the strain. Twilight and Shining Armor kept pressing, their auras blazing as they exerted themselves. Cracks began to appear in the doors’ surfaces, until finally, with a tremendous snapping sound, they shattered, the pieces flying into the next room amid a cloud of dust.

“Let’s go!” Twilight leapt into the shroud, her brother following right behind her. “All right, whoever you are, you’re—”

Her words died in her mouth as laughter suddenly filled her ears—laughter of the most evil variety. This wasn’t like Nightmare Moon’s maniacal cackle, or Discord’s insane chortle. This was a low, insidious chuckle, and it set Twilight’s hair on end with its sheer malevolence.

As the dust settled, she finally got a good look at the laughter’s source. It was a unicorn, clad head-to-hoof in a bizarre cloak. The garment was made of a blackish-blue fabric, spotted with twinkling white lights. It looked like someone had cut out a section of the night sky and made a cowl out of it. A silver champron encased the figure’s horn and head, and its face was shrouded in the shadows of its hood.

The laughter ceased, and when the figure spoke, its voice was like a saw blade: flat, sharp, and with a jagged edge. “Fate truly never ceases to impress. I knew I’d be meeting a pair of siblings here tonight, but I didn’t think it’d be you two.”

Shining Armor glared. “Who are you!?”

“…He asks the pony who keeps his face hidden. Though, I suppose introductions are in order.” The figure dipped its head in a slow bow. When it came back up, the black void of its hood stared straight at them. “You may call me Astrum.”

Shining Armor didn’t miss a beat. “All right, ‘Astrum.’ You’re under arrest, by the authority of the Princesses Celestia and Luna and the High Court of Canterlot.”

The hood shook from side to side. “Predictable. I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Shining Armor growled.

“We always have our choices. That’s what makes this so much fun, you see.”

“Seems you’re in the habit of making bad choices,” Twilight joined in. “You knocked out the guards?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You set fire to the archives?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“And now you’re trying to steal the Elements of Harmony?”

“Three for three.”

“Well, then I rest my case.”

Astrum chuckled. “I would hardly call any of those ‘bad choices,’ Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight blinked at the use of her name, but recovered quickly. “Forgive me if I don’t see the benefit of destroying knowledge and hurting other ponies,” she spat.

“Yes, my actions are regrettable,” his tone suggested he felt no such thing, “but it was all for a greater cause. You may not understand now, Twilight, but very soon, you’ll realize this night is the beginning of something grand.”

“Stop stalling, Astrum,” Shining Armor cut him off, “And step away from the vault.”

“Destiny demands that I refuse again, Captain. There is only one way this is going to play out, and that’s with me escaping from here with the Elements of Harmony in tow.”

Shining Armor didn’t answer. Instead, his horn glowed more brightly than ever before. The light streaming into the room turned pinkish as a sphere of magical energy coalesced around the tower, sealing it off. He took a defiant step forward.

“You’re not going anywhere, Astrum. Everyone in Canterlot can see the shield I just put up. It’s only a matter of time until the guards come running.”

Astrum breathed a slow, ragged sigh. “That was a poor decision, Captain. Now, I have no choice.”

His horn glowed with a white light, and a lance of magical energy stabbed out toward them. Shining Armor leapt in front of Twilight, intercepting the blast with a beam of his own. The force of it pushed him back, his hooves slipping across the marble floor.

Twilight jumped to her brother’s side. Her own magenta spell shot out, crashing into the white beam. Their combined might surged forward, overpowering Astrum’s attack. Twilight heard the cloaked pony yell something as the magenta blitz bore down on him, and then he was lost in the ensuing explosion.

“Yes!” Twilight reared up and slammed her hooves back down in victory. “That’s exactly what you get!” She turned to Shining Armor. “He was all talk, right, B.B.B.F.F.?”

“Twilight, eyes forward!”

She snapped her head back around. The floor at the end of hall was little more than a crater, a great plume of smoke billowing out if it. A white glow was visible within its depths, and as she watched, it began shifting. It was as if a thunderhead had formed in front of them, the lightning inside writhing and flickering.

A sound drifted to her ears. It began as a low murmur, climbing in volume and pitch, rhythmic in its execution. Twilight’s eyes widened as she recognized was it was. It was an incantation—a magical chant.

“Shining Armor, watch out!” she cried.

“Draco!”

The word boomed out from the smoke, a final flash sparked from its depths, and a searing tongue of white flame ripped across the hall. It melted the floor as it rushed toward the siblings, instantly setting the tapestries ablaze with its passing. Twilight leapt to one side, her brother to the other, narrowly avoiding the blaze.

The fire swept after her as she ducked behind one of the columns. She could feel the heat as the spitting flames licked around her narrow strip of cover. She curled up into as tight a ball as possible, her hooves over her face.

“Twilight!” Her brother called out to her, and suddenly the flames relented. She lowered her hooves and peered around the column. Her breath caught in her chest as she saw what was happening.

Behind the roaring chord of flame was Astrum, the blaze seeming to issue from the folds of his hood. Above him hovered a dozen points of light, connected by straight lines of pulsing white energy. It appeared as though a constellation had dropped from the sky and settled atop him.

Astrum’s aim shifted to her brother, the lash of fire sweeping across the hall. Shining Armor erected a barrier around himself, and held fast as the blaze broke against his defenses. Twilight realized that the flames were not self-sustaining; they burned hot, but without a source of fuel to latch onto, they quickly burned themselves out. With Astrum focusing all his fire on her brother, she was free to move.

Her horn flared to life, spitting magenta bolts right at the side of Astrum’s head. He saw the attack coming, and leapt out of the way with mere inches to spare. The flames sputtered and died, the constellation fading as he landed on all fours. He began chanting again.

Neither Twilight nor Shining Armor was about to give him the chance to finish. In unison, the siblings pressed the attack, filling the hall with a hail of energy. At the same time, Astrum finished his chant; four spots of light lifted themselves from his cloak, settling above him in a dart-like formation.

“Sagitta!”

As Astrum shouted the word, the points of light were joined by burning white lines, and a storm of magically-conjured arrows sprang into being around him, shooting forward in a swirling cloud of death. The air between the three combatants became a maelstrom of flashing light as the salvos of magic crashed into each other; magenta blasts knocking aside white bolts, ricochets gouging out sections of the floor and walls.

Twilight leapt back a step as one of the arrows embedded itself in the ground in front of her, flickering for a moment before fading out of existence. Looking up, she saw more of them arcing down from above—Astrum had sent a volley of arrows on an indirect attack path. Dividing her attention, she threw a shield up around herself as the missiles rained down.

To her surprise and horror, several of them punctured the barrier, the sparkling arrowheads embedding themselves in the pink bubble. One of them pierced far enough to settle right in front of her muzzle. Rather than risk a shot penetrating further, she broke off her attack, desperately focusing on evading the remaining arrows as they stitched the floor around her. She leapt left and right, forward and back, her shield thumping as it took several more impacts.

She heard Shining Armor call her name again, and she caught a glimpse of him in much the same situation. He seemed to be faring slightly better—Astrum’s arrows bounced off his shield almost without fail—but there was nothing she could do to help him, so focused was she on simply surviving the hail of death from above.

So focused, in fact, that she didn’t see the bolt of white magic until it had slammed into her shield and detonated. The concussive force of it shattered the magical aura, sending her sprawling across the ruined floor. Her head spun, ears ringing. She picked her gaze up just in time to see Astrum’s horn glowing, and then she was wrapped in a white telekinetic aura, being flung across the room.

She impacted one of the columns with bone-jarring force, pain shooting through her back. She fell to the floor, hitting the marble tile hard. Her limbs shaking, she struggled to rise, only to be caught in another magical grip. She was tossed up, then slammed back down with awful force. Pain turned to agony as she was hammered into the floor again and again; she was sure she could feel bones breaking. Darkness overtook her vision.

She came to maybe a few seconds later, lying crookedly on the floor. Dimly, she was aware of Shining Armor’s cry of alarm, of his hoofbeats growing closer, and of the pink glow of his barrier enveloping the two of them. More blasts exploded against the shield, and Twilight could hear her brother roaring his defiance against the onslaught.

There was a flickering of lights at the end of the hall. Astrum’s rhythmic chanting filled her ears in between the thud of his attacks. Seven stars detached themselves from his cloak, floating in the air above him.

“Orion!”

The points of light connected, the air around the ceiling shimmered as a glowing shape coalesced above the siblings. It resolved itself into a massive club, hovering threateningly above them. It lifted back, and with a terrible rush of air, it swung down. Shining Armor poured all of his remaining strength into his shield, his horn lifted high.

The hammer impacted the shield, exploding in a blinding flash of light. A thunderclap rocked the hall, blasting the stained glass windows out into the night. Twilight screwed her eyes shut against the glare, and heard her brother cry out as the shield splintered around them.

As the sound of the explosion echoed into nothingness, she picked her head up. The first thing she saw was that the lighting had returned to its normal bluish hue; the pink glow from outside had disappeared. Next, she saw why: Shining Armor lay beside her, unmoving. His eyes were half-closed, his horn blackened and scorched.

“Shining Armor…” Twilight weakly nudged her brother. No response. “Shining Armor!” No… No!

Baleful laughter filled her ears. She turned to see Astrum, still standing and frustratingly unharmed, at the end of the hall. The constellation vanished, the seven spots of light disappearing one after another. The black void of his hood stared straight at her.

“Well played!” he chuckled, “Well played, indeed. It’s almost a shame fate deems me the victor here today.”

Twilight tried to focus her magic. It hurt just to think. A small spark ignited at the tip of her horn, but that was all she could manage. She was treated to another telekinetic toss for her efforts. She crashed into the floor at Astrum’s hooves.

“No, no, Twilight Sparkle.” He lowered his head down next to her face. “You’ve played your part. Now it’s time for you to observe.” He turned, leisurely making his way toward the vault containing the Elements of Harmony.

“You’re wasting your time!” Twilight said as loudly and defiantly as she could manage. “You’ll never break Princess Celestia’s enchantment!”

Wordlessly, Astrum strode up to the vault door. He inclined his head, inserting the tip of his horn into the sun-shaped keyhole. A white glow suffused the door, shining out of the six orbs on its surface. Then suddenly, impossibly, it slid open, revealing the jeweled chest inside.

Twilight stared, astonished and horrified, as Astrum opened the box. The five golden necklaces and the shining tiara floated out, circling him like a glittering halo. He regarded each of them in turn, before bringing his attention back to her.

“Observe, Twilight Sparkle,” his voice turned black with menace, “exactly what you’re dealing with.”

Twilight had no response. Fear and confusion strangled her thoughts. How? How is this possible? Who is this… thing?

The hall was suddenly flooded with golden light. Twilight whirled her gaze around, and saw Princess Celestia herself striding through the entrance. Her expression was calm, but burned with all the fury of the sun. Beside her, Princess Luna made no effort to hide her anger; her face was a portrait of august rage. The contingent of royal guards behind them wore the stern expressions of soldiers eager for battle.

Twilight gave a whinny as she was suddenly hauled off the floor. She struggled against the white aura surrounding her, flailing her limbs helplessly as she floated in between Astrum and the new arrivals. She could hear the cloaked pony chuckling again.

“And here are the siblings I was expecting. A little late, aren’t we, Princesses?”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Let. Her. Go.”

“You have no authority over me, Celestia.” He floated Twilight closer; she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. “And I know you won’t do anything to endanger your prized student. One move, and I break her.”

Celestia held her ground, saying nothing.

Astrum gave a snort of satisfaction. “Good. Now we have some semblance of the rightful order.”

He struck a hoof out, lifting the hem of his cloak. The Elements of Harmony floated down, and one after another, they disappeared into the shadows beneath the fabric.

“Consider this a preview of things to come, Princesses. You’ll soon learn that even you live under a higher power.”

He pulled Twilight in closer. She fearfully glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he began whispering into her ear.

“I know this will not be our final meeting, Twilight Sparkle. Our stars are crossed, our destinies intertwined. At our next encounter, I hope you will have a better understanding of what’s at stake.”

He spun Twilight in place, so that she was staring directly into the all-consuming nothingness of his hood.

“Because if you don’t, fate will exact a price.”

The world spiraled madly as Astrum flung her away, tumbling head-over-hooves down the length of the hall. There was shouting, flashes of light. A dark blue streak shot by overhead. She shut her eyes, anticipating another bone-breaking impact with the hard floor.

Instead, she felt a soothing warmth surround her. She opened her eyes to see Princess Celestia gazing down at her. The two of them settled to the ground, the princess cradling Twilight in her hooves.

“It’s all right, Twilight,” she said, gently. “It’s all over.”

Twilight didn’t respond, letting the stress and pain finally take their toll. She broke down, trembling and sobbing, as Celestia stroked her mane.

“Rest now, my little pony. When you wake up, everything will be better.”

The princess’s horn glowed with a golden light. Twilight immediately felt a wave of exhaustion flow over her. Her eyes started to slide shut, her body giving in as her mind surrendered to unconsciousness.

The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was the group of guards clustered around the fallen form of her brother. A unicorn medic was hurriedly passing his horn over Shining Armor’s body, a grim expression on his face.

As she slipped away, Twilight’s last thought was her brother’s name, screamed loud and long.