Mirror: Book I - Mind

Beams from the bright, yellow, morning light of the outdoors reached past the slivers of the small window and layered over the young mare’s coat, the unicorn slumbering as she remained within the confines of the prison holding her. Her belly rose and feel between her breaths as a ragged, obnoxious snoring bounced off of the cell room walls, and accompanied by her sounds of sleep soon came the rickety yawn of the cell door churning ajar. Silver Spanner fidgeted and growled awake to the interruption of her rather content mode of sleep, brushing past scraggly strands of her mane with a free hoof as she blinked blearily in the direction of the noise.

“What’s this, then?” Silver stretched and spoke on groggily. “The interrogation phase?”

“I’d like to think of it more as ‘negotiation.’” The boy answered.

The unicorn shook her head and wiped the last of the bleariness from her eyes. The figure standing at the bars was far taller than the pony guard from the night prior, and unveiled unto her both a welcoming and desperately apologetic smile. Silver looked up at her human companion and blinked almost unbelievably for a second or two before shedding past the bars again to see Ralph and the other guard, standing by expectantly and patiently.

“You’re…letting me go already?” She asked carefully.

“Protocol dictates a sentence of at least forty-eight hours jail time.” Ralph answered her.

“But,” Sam started. “Seeing that you’ve learned your lesson-”

Ralph elbowed his companion in the shoulder. The earth guard huffed and begrudgingly reconsidered.

“Seeing that the Royal Equerry is in need of your assistance, your exoneration stands until he is done with you.” He received another elbow, and finished with a growl. “And the sentence will expire by the time he’s done with you anyways so…you’re free to go.”

Silver blinked with gratitude to the guards and returned her attention to the boy standing at the cell door, his lanky figure craning beneath the confines as he approached and leveled himself to one knee, his lips moving and the words arriving before he could even properly process the thoughts he had in mind.

“I know it’s old news, but I’m never going to rest easy until it’s been said.” David began haphazardly. “The things I said that day, the things I did, I know they may always be unforgivable, but if you would just look into the kindness of your heart-”

“Stop.” Silver halted, planting a hoof onto the boy’s lips.

He knelt there, frozen and eyes dancing. The pony motioned a breath and took the reigns.

“It doesn’t take a team of scientists to figure out that you’re remorseful of what you’ve done, so stop apologizing.” She said.

“R-right, sorry.” He flinched.

Her hoof pressed harder. “And don’t forget what I told you about going back home. I realize it may be severely out of your control, but it’s still an endeavor worth fighting for.” Silver eased her hold and let her hoof fall back to her side. “In other words, I want to let you know that I’m ready.”

“Ready…?” He waited.

“To start seeing eye to eye with you.” She smiled gratuitously, and quickly looked down with worry. “Now that I see it, it was wrong of me to dictate whether or not you’re ready for making amends with those you felt you’ve wronged in the past, even yourself.” She looked back up. “The way I see it now, one’s dedication should be enough to know that a person wants to change.”

His smile reflected her own, and he raised a hand to her shoulder. “Well, I know a certain scientist who’s looking for a lot of dedication from somepony who knows her field.” He patted her hide and offered his hand. “Ready to tackle another job, journeymare?”

Her eyes shimmered silver, streaks of confidence dazzling within. As that same, knowing grin returned to her muzzle, so did her hoof to the boy’s hand. Moments later, the couple spoke their farewells as they passed the threshold of the barracks and clicked the door shut, leaving the pair of guards behind to a long spell of stillness and contemplation. Sam warily craned his sight over to his friend.

“How do I put it, Ralph?” Sam began. “This kid’s got a princess, a sorceress, and an electrical mare under his cinch, and you’re still scoring a zero with that teacher, huh?”

He knew he couldn’t say it. Ralph tightened his jaw and lumbered further into the barracks, further away from his partner. There were plenty of smart ass remarks that Sam had yet to say, and Ralph only had so many “shut up, Sam”’s in his arsenal.

The rickety wheels of the D-rig wagon came to a groaning halt as the cargo loaded on top threatened to splinter through the trunk and perhaps even crash through the floor and into the basement, in spite of the fact that the Doctor did not have a basement in his home. Whooves, David and Spanner took a moment to stand back and gander over their work, gasping for breath all the while. The boy clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously in effort to dust the ashes from his palms.

“I still can’t believe this thing’s as heavy as it is.” He slapped his hand to the surface. “It’s practically the size of an easy bake oven. For me, at least.”

“Careful, young Equerry!” The doctor warned. “The evidence within is sensitive, I have yet to prepare the proper solutes for testing.” The stallion trotted over to his work bench. “We’ll be lucky if the exposure this appliance has had to the weather hasn’t already ruined our chances.”

“I’m no expert on oven manufacturing, but I can already tell this thing is a few decades out of date.” Silver provided. “I imagine a bakery would demand a lot of use out of it as well. You don’t suppose the Cakes didn’t think of replacing the elemental plating, do you?”

“Elemental plating?” David queried.

“Normally, ovens are hooked up with these metal rods called the elemental plating. The plates run through the bottom of the rack to generate the heat needed to bake whatever it is you’re baking.” The unicorn explained. “The energy required to heat these plates can be a little excessive, so for commercial buildings like the bakery they’re rigged to their own independent system instead of being hooked up to the main panel.”

“But, I don’t think Sugarcube Corner was a commercial building, at least not entirely.” The boy speculated. “Sure, the Cakes were running a business and all, but something tells me it started out as a simple house. There wasn’t exactly enough room to compensate for the customers, and it’s in the residential district for crying out loud.”

“And that’s where I have my doubts.” Silver concluded. “I suspect a case of faulty wiring.”

“Then that’d mean we’re gonna have to backtrack to the bakery and see what kind of job they did.” David added.

“I’ll have to get a permit to operate the utilities, something that I think Ambrosia might be able to help with.” Silver nodded confidently, striding over to the scientist working away at his laboratory equipment. “In the meantime we can see what our specialist on ‘seemingly unsalvageable ashes’ has got cooking for us. Ready to torque our bolts, Doc ol’ colt?”

The doctor paused and gave the unicorn an odd stare, as though she had spoken a language completely foreign to either of the occupants in the room.

“I-It’s a figure of speech…” She mumbled. “Pique our interest? Y’know?”

“Great whickering stallions…” The doctor gawked. “You mean to tell me I’m not the only pony who does that?”

The couple of ponies shared a hearty laugh as the boy stood by on the sidelines exempt of a single clue as to what exactly the two equines were on about. A moment later and the doctor went to wipe his eyes dry as their giggles simmered down and the work before them was laid straight.

“Right then, on with the experimentation.” Whooves nodded enthusiastically, beckoning the two closer to the table. “I have rendered a series of solutes that will be used to test the chemical reactions of each and every sample retrieved from the ashes. Each sample has been weighed and divided evenly in order to produce the most accurate results.” He then turned his attention to the unicorn. “Miss Spanner, if you will please levitate the samples into the test tubes one at a time? That way not a particle of soot may be exempt from its testing.”

“Of course.” Silver flared her horn to life.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Whooves wrapped his limbs around the mare’s horn, attempting to extinguish it. “I’ve forgotten one last piece of equipment that will be absolutely crucial to the success of this experiment.”

“A plasma ball?” The boy guessed. “A death ray? A rocket? Microwave oven parts?”

“Goggles.”

The boy’s face fell, shoulders sagging as he took the item in question. “Does anyone else feel drastically unenthusiastic about the task ahead?”

“Chemical reactions can often lead to unpredictable results, young Equerry.” The doctor informed him, shaping on his own goggles. “It is important to take precautions.”

The massive size of the goggles alone to compensate for the bright, wide-eyed ponies was enough to fit like that of a hat or a face shield. Silver began to snicker uncontrollably, and the doctor delivered a satisfactory shrug before returning to their work. With much practiced precision, Silver Spanner flared her horn back to life and carefully levitated the samples of ash from their paper trays, filtering them into the test tubes labeled with varying chemicals and solutions. The smokey, black mixture swirled within the seemingly transparent liquid, painting the vials to an inky black as each and every solution rendered no response to the sediments of ash. There was a long pause of silence as Silver and Whooves looked on with admiration, as though a window shopper had seen the greatest thing they would never obtain to behold their eyes. David decided to break the silence.

“Nothing’s happening.” He noted.

“Ah, then allow me to-” Whooves pulled a flint lighter from seemingly nowhere, generating a quick slash of embers. “-spark, your interest.”

Silver and the boy stared at the doctor, unamused.

“It’s a…figure of speech.” He tried. “Oh, never you mind. Just watch.”

Whooves motioned a small, metallic device with a hose attached to it beneath the testing tubes and twisted a valve sitting to the right of the work bench, a high pitched hissing emanating from the nozzle at the end of the contraption. He clicked the flint lighter once more, sparked the gas to a solid, red-blue flame, and hovered the flickering ember beneath the vials. One container after the other the chemicals within boiled to a hot, brimming bubble, revealing sickly doses of deep yellow and green. The scientist grinned with satisfaction.

“I knew it.” The stallion clicked his tongue. “Stealing third place in the Academy of Trottingham’s seventy-seventh annual science fair was a worthwhile investment afterall.”

Now the pony and the boy hadn’t a clue as to what the nutty scientist was on to. They spared another glance of uncertainty before returning to the colt in dire need of questioning.

“I’m sorry-” Silver began. “What does your school life have to do with any of this?”

“During my studies at the Academy of Trottingham, when I was but only a young lad,” The doctor started without the consent of either of his listeners. “I had been investigating the very secrets to life and existence as we know it. The answers to life, the universe, and everything all laid within one, singular, mono…stick of butter!”

By this point David had already found the plasma ball, and begun to play with it.

“The brand of excellence was but a mere, petty title in the eyes of us young scientists, and that was when enthusiasts all across Equestria and beyond actually gave an electron and another about the wonders of knowledge and experimentation. First place gold was a shameful title to obtain, and you were taught to be ashamed of yourself if you ever obtained first place gold in the science fair. Even the teachers thought so.”

“Okay…why would getting first place in the science fair be any worse than any place below it?” Silver questioned. “And again, what exactly does this have to do with anything?”

“Because they passed out real, credible trophies, my dear Silver Spanner.” The doctor continued. “First place gold meant you were getting a golden trophy, but what a preposterous, useless, and insignificant element to obtain! The conductive properties are nowhere near as valuable as that of third place, bronze. If you got third place in the science fair, you would obtain a bronze trophy. That is the trophy that which every dedicated fair goer would aim for, and I had obtained it.”

“So you’re telling me that for all the effort somepony would put into their science fair project, they’d end up getting first place and obtain a trophy they don’t even want?” Asked Silver. “If even the teachers knew how much more valuable a bronze trophy was compared to a gold trophy, why didn’t they just switch them around?”

“Then that would just defeat the purpose…” Whooves moped.

“Purpose of what?!”

“Am I the only one who wants to know what you would get for second place?” David asked across the room.

“Okay, look, just tell us what’s going on in this test tube here.” Silver pointed to the swirling colors. “What does bronze or gold have to do with any of this?”

“More so bronze.” The doctor furthured. “And from bronze, comes copper.”

“Copper?”

“Aha!” Shouted the boy. “Silver!”

“What?” The unicorn whipped around.

“Huh?” David blinked back. “Oh, I just realized what second place got, was all.”

Silver threw a hoof over her face, and Whooves busied himself with collecting the test tube in question, turning to show his companions.

“This is vitriol.” The doctor presented. “Otherwise known as sulphuric acid, chemical compound H2SO4. This concentrated solution heated up to the proper temperature has the ability to dissolve almost any type of metal, copper included.”

“So what’s the conclusion?” Silver probed. “There are tons of metal shavings and sediments that could’ve fallen off of the oven during the fire. Are you saying that copper is the cause of the fire?”

“It may very well be.” Whooves furthered. “Because the thing I find odd about all of this is that we had only taken these ash samples from inside of the tray. That is to say, Mrs. Cake had tried to bake…a trophy cake!”

“A trophy cake…” Silver shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask what that is.”

“It’s probably a cake, in the shape of a trophy.” David instructed.

“Shoo. Go play with the plasma ball.” Silver batted the boy away.

“My conclusion, dear Silver, is this.” The doctor took a breath. “Who in Equestria would place conductive metals directly into their cake, and such an abundant amount that it might start a fire for that matter? In fact, it did start a fire.”

“Or maybe it’s a trophy in the shape of a cake…” The boy prodded his chin.

“There was no reason for Mrs. Cake to have been so careless, you and Amethyst had already agreed to that.” Silver’s eyes danced about the room. “This could only mean one other thing.”

“Perhaps the fire was…intentional?” The doctor slowly uttered, as though fearful of answering.

“Just for a note of reference, Doctor?” David called over. “Where is your trophy?”

“The third place bronze?” The stallion lifted his head. “Why, scrapped and repurposed, of course. It’s no wonder the third place trophy was so much more valuable than the first.” He informed. “I had them converted into copper fittings and tin plates for both conventional and experimental uses.”

“Okay.” The boy started again. “So, where are these copper fittings?”

“You’ll find that I am a very organized hoarder of materials.” He pounced backwards and swam through a sea of trinkets, gadgets, metals and scrap strewn about in the corner of his laboratory. Soon after he surfaced and pressed his free hooves to the cabinets. “I keep them all right-”

The drawer was empty.

“Right…here!”

And so was the second.

“Erm…”

And the third.

David leaned down and whispered to the unicorn. “I don’t think he did as well in the science fair as he said he did.”

Dim, waning, rays of velvet light filtered past the silky, thick curtains of Miss Rarity’s bedroom, flooding the room with a soothing, almost seductive warmth as the two unicorns laying within focused heavily on their task ahead. Rarity’s muscles tensed, her body squirming with irritation, tail swishing and ears flickering. The mesmerizing tone of her partner arrived as the other unicorn gently rubbed her hoof up and down the fashionista’s back.

“Try to relax for this next exercise.” Starlight whispered ever so gently.

The lashes of her eyes fluttered as she glimpsed for her partner’s face ever so subtly, but Starlight cooed the mare back into her trance and trained her to put all of her focus on the feelings and sensations overwhelming her being at this very moment. Her breath felt hot, her face flushed to a beat red, Starlight’s touch tingled her ever so slightly.

“Yes, that’s it…” The unicorn encouraged. “You’re almost there.”

Rarity’s eyes clenched shut. She grunted with effort.

“Almost there.”

She tensed, she squeezed, she squirmed!

“Almost!”

Rarity was indeed almost at her limit. The book levitating above her horn glowed and shimmered to a transparent, ethereal blue. Starlight was giving her student all the support she could give in instructing her on the arts of the arcane. With a final, grunting effort, the fashionista released her breath and dropped her recently purchased, antique tome out of her telekinetic grasp. The magical field around them fell, and the room returned to an acceptable level of light.

“You almost had it.” Starlight acknowledged. “Just a little more and you would have at least got the basics down.”

“A little more and I feel as though I would have passed out.” Rarity breathed with exhaustion. “And it wouldn’t have been on purpose.”

“That’s why you need to learn how to regulate your mana flow.” The sorceress explained. “Otherwise, the spell will start drawing energy from your body.”

“But, didn’t you say that our magic comes from the flow of energy in our bodies, anyways?”

“Well, yes, but our horns are what allow us unicorns to convert those nutrients into readily available energy for the spell to use.” Starlight furthered. “This energy is called mana. Or, in more familiar terms, magic.” She spread her hooves, showcasing a stream of glimmers and sparkles. “This is also why unicorns have developed placeholders called ‘summon circles’, so that they may retain more magic for more complicated spells.”

“I suppose I just don’t understand quite yet. After all, I am only a beginner.” Rarity noted, calmly peering down at the book set before them. Discours de la méthode, or rather, A Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason, and Seeking Truth in the Sciences, was in fact entirely written in Prench, and had already proved to be more than a challenge for the young enchantress taking her first steps into the deep arcane. The unicorn wondered now just what good a book written in a language she only knew so much of would do her, and in no time found it astounding just how easy this was for ponies like her back in the day. “I must thank you once again, dear Starlight, for sacrificing the time of your day to help me learn these complicated spells.”

The spell in question wasn’t by any means complicated, at least to the young sorceress’ standards, and Starlight had to remind herself on the limitations of others. Instead, the young unicorn started with a grin. “Hey, I’d do anything to get the chance to practice some magic.” She blinked with realization. “A-And to help out a friend in need, of course.”

“And you’ve been a tremendous help thus far, no doubt.” Rarity looked back up, tapping her hooves together. “It’s just-” she paused.

“Just…what?” Starlight waited.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, darling.” The white unicorn started carefully. “But tell me, do you ever get out often?”

“Well, of course I do.” Starlight answered plainly. “What with all of the commotion that’s been going on recently, I’d find it hard to just sit around and do nothing. Why?”

“I will admit that when the dilemma of deciphering this old tome finally found its way into my interest, Twilight was the first I had in mind to look to for assistance.” Rarity paused again, blurting out a moment after. “But of course, one can imagine how busy a Princess such as herself must be all the time. So, I sought after the next best mare. N-Not to say that you’re but only a substitute, as I am more than certain that you know your field well. I thought only to give you a chance to utilize your knowledge-oh, well, that didn’t come out quite right, now did it?”

She thinks I have no friends. Starlight thought to herself. Her complexion dropped to a depressing demeanor, but her eyes continued to study the mare before her. She’s easier to read than Applejack trying to come up with a lie. Ever since Trixie left, everypony has been giving me this same stroke of compensation, and it’s starting to piss me off. She sighed internally. I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s not like they really understand. Was there anypony who really ever understood me? Perhaps…there was one. Starlight pressed to cover a sigh as her next words came together.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, Rares.” She reconsidered. “But really, I’m fine. It’s not like I constantly need somepony breathing down my neck.”

“I know, darling, we all need a bit of time alone every now and then.” Rarity acknowledged. “But it doesn’t hurt to treat ourselves to what awaits beyond our doors. Practicing one’s social skills can often tell us things we didn’t even know about ourselves.”

And…there she goes again. The sorceress groaned internally. Not only is she blatant, but persistent as well. Something tells me there’s a reason she called me over here other than to help her with her magic. The unicorn thought deviously. I’ll bet Twilight is in on this little scheme, trying to get me to open up and talk about my feelings. So what if I ended up driving away one of my one and only best friends away? So what if she may never return or I may never see her again? I’m a grown mare, I can take it! She fumed.

“Starlight, dear, is…” Rarity wavered. “Is everything alright?”

“Wha-? Huh?” The mare blinked back to reality. “O-Oh, yes! Of course. Just…trying to figure out what went wrong with the spell. Hahaha…”

Rarity responded only with an estranged look, delivering a side-eye to the odd and sudden response her unicorn friend had uttered. The single, little spark of neuro-stimuli triggering through the unicorn’s mind told Starlight everything she needed to know. The nervous laugh gave it away, didn’t it? She wondered, seething within. Dammit, enough with the stupid, nervous laugh!

“Starlight.” Rarity began calmly and slowly. “You know that I am your friend, right? So is Twilight, and Applejack and Rainbow Dash, and everypony else. There’s no reason you need to hide anything from us.”

“Who said I was hiding anything? I was only trying to make it seem like-” Starlight paused and felt that a face-hoof was coming. With a simple gesture she let her defenses drop, not even looking the pony adjacent to her in the eyes as she timidly continued. “All right…I guess ya’ caught me.” She blinked hard. “I suppose I’ve been a little upset about how some things have been turning out recently, but that doesn’t mean any of you guys should take the fall with me. That’s why I always keep myself to my scrolls and my spells, because I feel like this is a problem I need to face on my own.”

Rarity blinked with a hint of realization as the words slowly came into comprehension, and the elder mare wondered just what sort of events in her life could have caused this young unicorn to think this way. Of course, the little village incident they had faced some few years ago was as major of a highlight as any, but even then what sort of trauma could have caused an event such as that to take place? The white unicorn wondered carefully, and cautioned upon the can of worms she was slowly yet surely prying open. Rarity at least knew now that silence was the next step. The unicorn was not yet finished.

“I suppose that’s a little selfish of me, isn’t it?” Starlight continued. “Before I came into your guys’ lives, you must’ve faced all kinds of different problems together. It must be nice to know that you’ve got a friend by your side, ready to face down the shadows along side you. It makes the world feel a little less threatening, doesn’t it?”

Now the host was at a standstill, a complete loss at what to say next, or even if she should say anything next. The silence seemed to put the younger unicorn out of place as she kicked up another one of her nervous chuckling fits, and went to gather her belongings in her aura.

“Sorry to get so deep all of a sudden, that was really unlike me.” Starlight lied, heading for the door. “I suppose I should get going-”

“Starlight, please.” Rarity’s voice was as soft as ever. “I may not know entirely the strife you may be facing, but will you at least promise us something?”

The unicorn came to halt, a grip on the door. She waited.

“Promise us that you won’t try to walk this path alone.” Rarity pleaded. “Know that you have friends that are willing to walk with you, and guide you.”

Right, like a unicorn who can barely light her horn would know anything about me. Starlight snapped at herself. Stop it! She snarled within. Quietly, the young unicorn turned to her host with a knowing nod. “I’ll keep it in mind, Rares…” And without another beat, Starlight slipped through the seam of the door and clicked it shut behind her, pressing her back to the entrance and letting her haunches fall to the earth.

She swept both hooves over her face and let an excruciatingly long breath of shaky relief escape her lungs. “A little more and I feel like I would’ve…” She trembled.

“Would have…what?” The boy asked.

Starlight sprung in fright, instinctively lighting her horn for defensive measures. At the same time she slapped both hooves over her mouth lest she scream and alert the other mare within. It only took a second longer to recognize the figure standing before her.

“Were you trying to induce a heart attack?” Starlight stared daggers. “Or do you actually have a good reason to be here? What the hell is this?”

“It’s a wagon.” He answered innocently. “A d-rig wagon. I was returning it to Rarity for letting us borrow it.” David trained an odd eye on the mare. “What’s got you in all of a fuss?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” She let another sigh go. “Had a bit more of a heart-to-heart with the mademoiselle than I would have liked, I guess.”

“Unicorns…” He groaned. “Am I right?”

Starlight crossed a dead-pan. She had quickly realized that if she could ever rely on someone to bring the mood of the moment to a dead, screeching halt, then it was David. The boy only followed with a shrug and worked another response.

“Anyways, be a dear and run this in for me?” He pushed the wagon over. “Apparently I’ve got a whole day of training to catch up on, per a certain pegasus’ request, or rather demand.” He waved back, beginning to walk off. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Wait, wait!” Starlight trotted up and around, stopping the boy. “You’re not all that busy, are you?”

“I just explained to you I’m on speedy’s shit list, unless I do some push-ups and run around.”

“You do that all the time anyways.” Starlight waved her hoof, beckoning the boy closer. “Listen, I was thinking that you and I oughta’ conduct a second expedition. Y’know, take a little trip back to you know where.”

“Er, no.” He blatantly shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know where.”

“You know…” She dragged her hoof in circles. “The Everfree ruin-”

A crackling flash of white briefly blinded the duo as they staggered backwards and yelped in surprise, only to be brought right back into a close embrace as the draconequus of the hour cackled aloud and made his presence more than known.

“Oopsie doopsie, was I interrupting something important just now?” Discord asked blatantly.

The unicorn puffed with irritation, breaking away from his grasp. “You, again?”

“Good to see you, too.” Discord huffed back.

“Whatever it is you’re here for, you’d better hope its far more important than what we were talking about just now.” Starlight dared.

“And trust me, I would be more than happy to fill myself in on the little adventures you’ve been having with our main character here, but the boy comes first.” He twisted around, floating aimlessly above the two, looking down at the human. “How are we doing on our quest for little miss Apple Bloom?”

“I didn’t think you’d get yourself caught up in those details, either.” David played a defensive stance. “And the way I see it, I don’t really think it’s any of your business.”

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t forget our little agreement at the fountain.” Discord reminded. “When I offered to help you that wasn’t a deal, it was a demand. Know that I am doing this more for myself than anypony or anyone else’s benefit.”

“I’m not sure if I can trust that anymore.” David admitted. “Your help was satisfactory back at Town Hall, but shady at best. Twilight has already warned me about the kind of trouble she’d get into with you around, and I think this time I’m going to follow my instincts and her advice.” He turned to walk away. “So, thanks, but no thanks.”

“And I suppose that Twilight told you that because she doesn’t realize I may very well hold the key to helping you restore Apple Bloom’s memory.” He called. “Or, does she?”

David halted in his tracks, turning around slowly to size up the draconequus and the mischievous yet knowing grimace drawn across his lips. He weighed his left limb forward for the boy to see. Floating in his eagle claw was a small, tattered parchment with a strange series of markings drawn over it, the item no larger than a simple playing card. Its etchings pulsed a beckoning, blue-green, iridescent glow.