CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: REUNION

November 1

Canterlot

Heavy blows struck the sides of the carriage and rocked it on its axles, even though the vehicle was a tank built of gilded wood. Curtains hung from its back and side windows. Twilight could have moved them and watched the rush hour Canterlot traffic if she had so wished, but she kept them closed. Looking out the sides or anywhere but the front window made her seasick. She kept her head forward. Focusing on the details of the upholstery inside the carriage kept her mind off her burbling stomach.

The front panel was a bay window with a screen between her and the two drivers. Both stallions' harnesses were coupled to the carriage, but the linkages were easily detached and either pony could defend the carriage's occupant if she was threatened. They battled a thick traffic jam. It was odd to see this much activity at nine-thirty in the morning, but for whatever reason it looked like half of the city had packed into the narrow downtown streets. Is there a festival that I forgot about, or a street fair?

"Stand aside!" cried the unicorn stallion on the left. "Make way!" bellowed the other, a stocky earth pony. They cut a path through the throng with commands and physical force. Twilight's carriage was imposing and rode high on its suspension, which helped to scare passerby out of the way. Nopony wanted to be squashed by a small wheeled house.

She wished the drivers wouldn't make such a fuss. They might have made better progress if they were not acting like she was a Princess. It was Celestia's carriage, after all, and common folk expected to see Celestia in it. All the yelling was making half the street stop and stare. Attention was the last thing she wanted.

Another strike landed solidly on the taxi's back panel, as if a sturdy hoof had kicked it. Twilight lowered the screen. "What's going on?"

"Stay inside, ma'am! It's not safe out here!"

With a lurch, they mounted the curb and nearly took out a newspaper stand, not to mention two lampposts. The shouts rose like a tempestuous sea. What was going on? Twilight drew her lap robe tighter about her flanks and, in so doing, knocked several books onto the floor panel. Books surrounded her on the seats and she was otherwise alone in a cabin with ample room for at least five ponies (or two ponies and one alicorn). There were far too many volumes and scrolls to fit in her saddlebags, so she had bound them all together with knots; unfortunately, her research skill far outstripped her knot-tying prowess. As the taxi fishtailed and dropped off the curb, books flew. She ignored them, instead holding tighter to the parchment scrolls in her hooves. Those stayed with her. Of course, none of the baggage would be leaving her sight, but these in particular were the most important. Lives might depend on their contents.

From her room to the train station was just over a half-mile. Twilight could have slipped on a cloak and made the trip on hoof, but then she couldn't carry the books, so that meant a taxi. She couldn't trust an ordinary Canterlot taxi with her cargo. She also wanted nopony to know her movements. This meant a bit of detective work, some coercion of Celestia's guards, and the temporary use of one of the touring carriages parked in the east courtyard. Those two guards now pulled her at an alarming pace through what sounded like the beginning of a battle. Through the swell of raised voices, she could hear the telltale pops and hisses of unicorn magic. Spells were being cast nearby.

"DOWN WITH THE ROYALTY!" somepony roared, as closely as if it had been yelled in her ear. Something hit the carriage with a wailing crash. It smashed into the side panel with such force that the glass exploded and the panel bent inward with a sharp crack. Shards sliced at her face. Twilight saw the unicorn guard cast a spell over his shoulder, and for a horrifying instant, magical sparks shot pell-mell past the windows like out-of-control fireworks. Her stomach lurched as they jerked left and right. The entire thing rode on two wheels as they slipped down a back alley and ran over several garbage bins. The wheels scraped against the stones.

The thoroughbrace beneath her only dampened part of the quaking. It was, as she understood it, the complex framework of straps and springs that the carriage's frame 'rode' on. Instead of transferring every bump to the passengers, it turned them into more manageable rocking motions. Still, the feeling of being completely out of control, in a rattling deathtrap, made her dizzy with fear.

"Looks like we're past the worst of it," the unicorn called back to her. "If the riots have made it to Crystal Boulevard, that's bad news. Stay inside, madam, it might not be safe yet until we're past downtown."

Twilight tried not to look at the broken window.

"They've pushed the police back three blocks!" yelled the Earth pony, over the sound of the wheels. "Are the Guard coming to reinforce them?"

"We can't worry about that now. The Princess's assistant needs us to get her to the train station and that's exactly what we are going to do. Focus, Private!"

"Yes, sir." He bent into his harness and the carriage picked up speed.

Riots? Twilight sat back on the seat, feeling more uneasy by the second. Since when did Canterlot have riots? And what had that scream been about? Somepony had shot a curse at her carriage. She, Twilight Sparkle, an ordinary Ponyville unicorn, had been shot at, simply because she was riding in a Palace vehicle. She knew a Blasting Spell when she saw one.

"Almost there, madam. Keep your head down." A right turn, then a left, and left again. Twilight would have been completely lost if she hadn't felt the telltale bump of the wheels that meant they had crossed the bridge onto South Saddle Street. The station was only a few moments away.

Compared to downtown, the traffic around the station was sparse, and few stares followed the coach as it pulled up on the street above. Still, Twilight wasn't allowed to open the door until both drivers had unhooked their straps and took up guard positions on either end. They swiveled their heads and stood at military attention. "We will hold here until you return, madam."

"Thank you for getting me here safely," said Twilight.

They bowed their heads. Chill winds whipped the blue plumes on their helmets. Twilight decided to bring the lap robe with her, and her coat as well. Her legs were unsteady on the stairs down to the platform. Quite apart from walking off the motion sickness, she was nervous about being here in the first place, and she had no reason to be. But still…

Travelers wandered the station, checking pocket watches or fussing with tickets. She had arrived at the station during a rare moment of peace. No trains were currently arriving or departing, and four of the five platforms were deserted. She felt quite alone and exposed. Knowing that two trained warriors stood guard at the top of the stairs did nothing to soothe the sour butterflies in her stomach. Where were her friends? She looked down at the itinerary, which she pulled from her saddlebag. The 10:05 from Ponyville was the one she wanted. It was 9:47, according to the wall clock above the ticket station, and usually the trains ran at least several minutes early.

Had something delayed the train? She paced and took shallow breaths, not wanting to think about that possibility. When she looked up at the clock again, it was eleven past ten. No train. No sign of a train, or any discernable train noises as it puffed its way up the mountain. No plumes of smoke.

Twilight drew the coat tighter around herself, as the cold knifed through it. Why am I feeling like this? Like I'm afraid of what will happen when my friends arrive?

Finally she found a bench and sat. When she did, a wave of fatigue struck. Not the ordinary tiredness that comes after a full day, but a crippling one, one born of many sleepless nights and emotional stresses. She hadn't slept in four days and she felt famished and drained and jittery. Flyaway strands of unwashed mane drooped over her face. The shattered coach window had sliced her cheek in several places. No doubt she looked as awful as she felt. She wanted nothing more than to have her friends here so that she could share her discovery. But now that she had the vital information at hoof, what would she do with it?

To Twilight, few things were worse than operating without a plan, without a checklist from which to organize your next move. She stared at the scrolls in her saddlebag. They were a stepping stone, a first leap up a dark mountain, but they were still only a start. She had the first item on a checklist and couldn't see the rest. How could she play chess without knowing all of the moves? None of the ones that she knew made any sense. The ones she could see were all unpleasant.

Underneath it all was that familiar apprehension. It was what first brought her to Canterlot, the vague sense that something would go wrong, and that her friends would be hurt if she were not ready to face that unknown challenge. It had once driven her to learn more about combat and to seek the Princess's help. She felt less prepared to face it now than she ever did.

"Buck..." She rested her head in two shaking hooves.

No train came. She sat in utter silence. Two ponies approached her platform, moving slowly, and she picked up snippets of their conversation.

"I am telling you, dear, there is nothing to worry about."

"And is that more of your secondhand information, Jet Set? Our carriage was just chased! In broad daylight!" This was a mare's voice, with the clipped and measured accent of a Canterlot noble. "Perhaps you heard that the Wonderbolts derby has been postponed because of these- ruffians! Why are the streets not being made safe by the Guard? My own assistant could not be bothered to tell me of the cancellation. Instead, I hear about it from Lady Cantamere yesterday."

"I was not aware of that," drawled Jet Set. Twilight imagined him tugging at a groomed mustache.

"Lady Cantamere told me that the Wonderbolts' manager called it off because of these riots, or threats of riots, in the city center. If the Wonderbolts themselves do not feel comfortable performing in their own stadium, how are we supposed to? Cantamere was all a-flutter about it, I can assure you. She is now afraid to venture outside her estate without armed escort."

"Indeed. Although a ball gown in the wrong shade of off-white would make Lady Cantamere a-flutter. Imagine what an actual riot might do."

"Are you not taking this seriously, husband?"

"Of course I am taking it seriously. But Upper Crust, what am I supposed to do about it? Are we meant to put our lives on standby because of rumors? We have obligations, dear wife. Our careers and responsibilities come first. If you are concerned about our safety, I will double our security detail at the manor. These sorts of troubles happen from time to time. Remember 1387? The Princesses are no stranger to violent revolt, and have weathered worse."

Twilight looked up.

"Have you heard anything at the bank lately?" said the mare. Her wavy silver mane fluttered in the breeze. Snowflakes had begun to settle atop her head.

"Oh, a whisper here and there, but nothing of importance. Lockheed Maretin has apparently suffered labor strikes and damage to one of their foundries. Blowback from all of that unpleasantness in the Undercity, I suppose. We are assisting them in recouping their losses."

"The airship manufacturer? I thought they had relocated to Manehatten."

"They have a subsidiary in Manehatten, yes, but their main factory is still in Lower Canterlot. Labor costs are kept low, and so The accident at Canterlot Ironworks has- severely affected their supply chain, and the bank hears the strangest stories as to what caused it all in the first place. First it is the worst industrial accident in decades, then a griffon saboteur, then some sort of monster, or all three at once. We are still very much in the dark."

Twilight's skin prickled. The male unicorn pushed a pair of spectacles higher on his muzzle. As the pair passed, she studied them. They were bundled in finery and held their heads high. Canterlot was a city of aristocracy, but Twilight had years of experience from her time in the Palace, and she knew how to distinguish various levels of prosperity and authority. It was easy if you knew what to look for. There were ponies with incredible wealth but very little power; there were ponies with great influence but of lesser means; and then there were the favored few, who possessed both. One could occupy months with a study of Canterlot's noble bloodlines. Many of them sat atop the nexuses of power like kings: banks, manufacturing conglomerates, and international import/export services. The old families had feuded and intermingled and backstabbed each other for centuries.

These two had the look of old money, and lots of it. Their clothes and jewelry alone represented tens of thousands of bits. Jet Set adjusted his waistcoat and pulled out a golden watch, then glanced at the schedule on the wall. "The Ponyville train is late, I see."

"Ponyville?" the other unicorn exclaimed. "That up-and-coming designer at last year's Garden Party, she was from Ponyville, if I remember correctly."

"Ah, yes. Rarity. She was quite the sensation at the last Wonderbolts derby. Lovely mare. I mean- she creates lovely fashions," he hastily added, as his wife glowered at him.

"We are twenty minutes early. I told you we should have remained in the carriage until the train arrives. There is no need to stand around and catch our death of cold."

Jet Set took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. "Nonsense, dear. We can enjoy the air. Mobs aside, it really is a fine morning."

Upper Crust huffed but said nothing.

"When we get to Manehatten…" The pair stepped out of earshot, having taken no notice of Twilight. She wasn't surprised. She had brushed shoulders with these very ponies and many others of their social class before, at the Grand Galloping Gala and various balls and cotillions. Being Celestia's one and only personal student came with certain perks. But without a favored place beside the Princess, and in her current condition, she was just another pony, a lost and bedraggled vagrant not even worth a second glance. Those ponies in the street attacked me because they're upset at ponies like this and thought I was one, just because I was in a royal carriage.

But she was still the same Twilight Sparkle. The 'ruffians' Upper Crust mentioned were only ordinary Canterlot citizens. What had changed?

Princess Celestia had taught her social theory as part of a basic grounding in science, mathematics, and history. The very structure of an empire meant that certain ponies' personal wealth or fortunes would naturally be better than others'. If everypony was a banker, or a steel magnate, or even a Princess, then there would be nopony to do the thousands of other jobs that needed doing. Equestria needed farmers just as much as it did nobles. Perhaps more so. The science behind cutie marks only backed up this theory, because what was a cutie mark if not a representation of a pony's place in society, a statement of what that pony was best suited to do? Such a system was a symbiotic circle. Or, more accurately, a wheel in motion. It could only sustain itself if each piece in the wheel supported the others. No one piece could sabotage or undermine another, or attempt to seize more power for itself. Rulers did not terrorize their subjects and subjects did not overthrow their rulers. Break a single segment of the wheel, or nudge it out of alignment, and…

In the distance, a train whistle sounded.

---

The train car was the sixth from the locomotive. Only the caboose and the mail car trailed behind, bouncing and clattering along the narrow rails at a steady clip. Bryn kept bumping shoulders with Rarity, who sat beside him on the wooden bench seat. Mail car and caboose kept up a clanking countermelody to the rails' chatter and the locomotive's faint chugging, an orchestra of vibration and steam and smoke and noise.

Bryn had only ridden on a train once before in his life, because stationary museum steam engines did not count and neither did toys. All trains fascinated him as a small child but steam trains in particular caught his fancy. Their size and smoke-belching grandeur would awe any young boy, but it was less about mechanics and more about the nature of train travel.

When he was six, his parents took him on a ride on one of the last working steam train lines in the west of America, possibly the last functional locomotive that was not collecting dust in a warehouse somewhere. The experience was altogether a poor imitation of an authentic train trip. For fifteen dollars, the engineers would pull tourists around a four-mile circular section of track, and narrate the event with tired trivia about mines and old railroads and ranching. Then local men dressed as old-timey railroad workers would greet the departing passengers and hand out Old West souvenirs. The history and stuffy Cliffs-Notes narrations bored seven-year-old Bryn to death. The actual train ride, however, did not.

Even a four-mile stint in that rickety passenger coach, its windows open to the wind and smoke, was enough to plant a seed in his mind. Train rides were visceral in a way that a comparable distance in a car was not. He felt every bump, every shudder and wail of unoiled metal, every gust of wind. His mind was able to appreciate the forces at work in order to transport him from point A to point B. Travel on modern planes and cars was too safe. Technology made traveling less dangerous, even as it distilled out every bit of thrill and glamour; airplane trips, once a special occasion, were now as mundane and sanitized as getting on a city bus. But this was real travel. The only difference between this Equestrian train and that one was the addition of windows. No icy blasts reached the passengers, who were defended by a wood-burning stove and by the lap robes the porters provided.

Rarity, in typical Rarity fashion, declared the proffered robes 'uncouth' and 'covered in smelly old hay'. She brought her own.

The train labored up a steep grade. Stately pines and spruces lined both sides of the roadbed, and where the tracks had been cut into the sides of hills and ridges, white rock was exposed in jagged chunks. This was a narrow-gauge line, or the Equestrian equivalent, and the roadbed was shockingly narrow in places; he could have stretched his hand out the window and touched stone.

A sudden jolt tossed Rarity into his lap. The train car bucked like an angry bull and jerked his head so it struck the windowpane. Applejack, across the aisle, clutched the railing. Her Stetson fell to the floor.

"How horrid!" Rarity screeched. "Did we break down?"

"Probably just some snow or ice on the track," said Bryn, as their eyes locked. Blushing, Rarity climbed back into her seat, but clung to him in case of further impacts.

It was indeed a frozen snowbank on the tracks. The locomotive's front ram shattered it before it did any damage, but the larger chunks slipped between the wheels and the roadbed. There was a harsh clank as the caboose, two cars back, settled back onto the rails. Bryn breathed a sigh of relief. Anything larger might have knocked the train free of its rails and caused the whole thing to tumble down the mountainside. On the right was a solid stone wall. On the left was a sheer drop to certain death. He had seen enough western movies to know what happens when a speeding train meets an immovable object, such as an ice flow the size of a house.

Whose brilliant idea was it to build a rail line on a ridge barely wide enough for three ponies to walk side-by-side? He tried not to look out the windows on the left. Instead, he focused on Rarity's mane. Its violet strands sparkled in the late morning sun. He planted several kisses on her scalp and ears and, despite the circumstances, she giggled and leaned closer to him.

The river Rush sparkled at the base of the mountain, thousands of feet below. Tunnels and switchbacks became more frequent as the train navigated the mess of mountains and crags where the Unicorn Range intersected Canterlot Peak. It was an impassable barrier to all but Pegasi and mountain goats and the rail line was the only way in or out of the city, save for a hazardous trail to the south. His ears popped from the elevation change. Eureka had been above six thousand feet in elevation, though, and the thin air did not affect his breathing. Yet.

The train slowed and rounded an overhanging rock formation. As it passed under the ominous weight of stone, Canterlot came into view, still several miles away but very visible from the left window. He could only stare.

When she was five, Serena got a Barbie castle for her birthday. She used to have her friend Erin over and they had so much fun dreaming up complicated princess plots and telling stories… And of course I had to see the fucking thing on the bedside table every morning and trip over it when she left it on the floor. Three feet tall, and lurid pink, and full of Barbies. Why had he thought of that Barbie castle, of all things? The train chugged onward. He marveled at the castle on the mountain, the impossible metropolis that seemed to defy every law of physics and architecture and matter that was ever written. It was just… there, clinging to the top of the tallest peak like a giant glittering spider. The division between mountain and city was very hard to make out. Both pleasing and mystifying to his eyes, Canterlot's spires and high rises either generated light or reflected it. It might have been a trick of the light or the very stone from which it was built, but hues of pink and gray and soft blue emanated from every surface as if the entire thing was carved of crystal.

The pink hues had brought to mind that Barbie castle. Canterlot was a Barbie castle standing two thousand feet tall and elongated into impossible shapes. Spires and arches and buttresses, all seemingly too thin to support their own weight, stabbed at the sky.

Now that the destination was in sight, Bryn could no longer silence his misgivings under the thrill of Equestrian train travel. He stared at Canterlot and felt that familiar shiver at the back of his neck, immediately followed by a tension in his arms and legs and a tightness below his ribcage.

He, a human, was riding a pink train into a pink city full of ponies.

Bryn turned to Rarity. "Are you sure it was the best idea to have me come?" He tried to keep the uncertain quaver out of his voice.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?"

Pegasi flew high overhead. Dozens of them shunted clouds with their hooves, manipulating the light snowfall and winds that scoured the Unicorn Range. He looked up at their distant shapes, then at the unicorn beside him, and when he spoke it was in a much softer tone. "I'm just… the whole city thing, they'll probably stare and call me a freak, and-" Not that the 'freak' insults had bothered him, when he first came to Equestria. He always had a difficult time translating this feeling into words. "I don't do crowds. Even if they're human ones."

Crowds meant stress, and stress brought other things to the table. He wasn't even thinking of agoraphobia, though, when he stared into Rarity's concerned eyes. Her hoof slipped into his. Bryn struggled to marshal his thoughts- holding her hoof had that effect on him- but all he could form into a concrete idea was the feeling of standing on that playground, in elementary school, with the school staring at him after he had just phased. Shame and isolation and otherness. The sickening horror of revealing his most tightly held secret, and the children's faces judging him as something unnatural.

In his worst nightmares, those faces visited him.

Phasing had been on his mind a lot lately during the past week. Since moving in with Rarity, he had done it once. His panicked phase in the forest, to dodge a falling piano, was a necessary mistake. He was already on thin ice because of the fact that he was a human among talking horses. If it became known that he had a strange ability to teleport, he feared that it would extinguish the friendships he had built.

Applejack had finally begun to tolerate his presence. He hadn't seen Rainbow Dash since the night of the party, but he wasn't holding out hope. Twilight still treated him like a scientific experiment of above-average fascination.

And Rarity loved him. Would she love him the same if he told her about his powers? Powers not even he truly understood?

The past two nights he had gone without sleep. He stared at the ceiling, agonizing over secrets he wished he could tell, while Rarity held him close and slumbered peacefully. It was hard to think of such things with the unicorn's body pressed up against his. Secrets could bring people closer together, but more often than not, they only sowed mistrust and pain. With each embrace, it became harder to keep it from Rarity. And now he was on a train car with an uncertain outcome.

He swallowed his tongue. Rarity filled the silence. "It'll be fine, dear. Just keep your hood up and stay close to me and Applejack until we reach the Palace."

With the worst switchbacks and steep grades behind, the train steamed up the gentle curve into Canterlot. The city grew alarmingly large up close. Those slender towers seemed ready to topple at any moment and fall in a multicolored avalanche down the mountainside. Applejack, across the aisle, spoke up. It was the first sound she had made since boarding the train. "Remember the last time we were here?" the farm pony said.

"Hmm…"

"For Cadance's wedding. Just over three months ago, an' so much's different now." She stood and reached up to the luggage rack, where a battered tan travel case sat. "All o' us were together, an' we beat the changelings, an' the Princess got married an' everypony came home happy..."

Expecting more to the thought, Rarity watched her sympathetically. Applejack lifted the suitcase and sat back down. "Let's go meet Twi'. No sense in waitin'."

Applejack did not look over at them once. As the train crept into the station, she remained seated, staring forward and saying nothing. She sat on the right side of the train car. It was the side that faced the platform and the small crowd of ponies assembled for the 10:30 departure. Bryn and Rarity faced a brick wall. They could not see Twilight on the other side, keeping pace with the train. It pulled up to the barrier with a solid clang. Bundled in a thick coat and carrying a saddlebag stuffed with books and scrolls, Twilight trotted through the throng, waving to her friends, of whom Applejack was the only visible member. Applejack didn't notice.

Bryn carried a black duffel with an extra set of clothes. Not knowing how long they would be in Canterlot, he did his best to prepare for all contingencies while using only a single bag. Rarity packed nine, including two for extra hats. Grimacing, he transferred them one by one to his shoulders, until he began to resemble an actual pack horse. Twilight was waiting for them on the platform.

"You made it!" cried the unicorn, running to each of them as they disembarked. "I was so worried…" She clung to Applejack like a life preserver. She did the same to Rarity as the white mare stepped out of the train. When Bryn followed, bringing up the rear, Twilight hesitated, then hugged him too.

It took Bryn by surprise. Twilight's mane smelled like lemon shampoo and something that might have been dusty books. If he had to guess, she had gone at least a day without bathing, and in the harsh lights of the station, her mane was unruly and sleeplessness's dark circles lined her face. She held him tightly for a moment and let go. "I'm glad you came too."

"Are you okay?" Bryn asked.

"We can't talk out in the open. It's not safe. I have a carriage waiting up on the street."

Twilight looked in every direction, as if assassins were hiding in the bright white station to jump out at her. The cold dead breath of the wind swirled around Bryn's feet. He raised his hood as they followed her across the platform. If unfriendly eyes came his way, there was no hiding his size and strange way of walking, even if he was at the center of a trio of ponies. They made their way across the station without incident and climbed into the carriage.

"Back to the Palace, but take the back alleys and side streets," commanded Twilight, before shutting the privacy screen. The coach jerked into motion. Now that she was with her friends, she could reveal her secret, the one she had found in one of Celestia's history books. "There isn't a moment to lose. I've figured it out! I'll show you when we're there. No time now, but- the Princesses- it's happened before- long ago, before the Schism-"

Bewildered, Rarity held a hoof out to stop her, but to no avail. "How could I have been so blind? It was right there!" Twilight nearly shouted. "Right there in front of my muzzle the whole time. The weather and the disappearances and everything else, don't you see? It's all connected!" She waved her foreleg around excitedly, knocking books into the air like scared birds. A feverish light shone in her eyes. Bryn had never seen the lavender mare in this state, but Rarity had, and her friends knew what damage could be done by an out-of-control manic Twilight. It was never pretty. These sorts of moods could alter time and upset the course of stars. The unicorn's mane crackled with static electricity. "Last time, the puzzle had fewer pieces. But now-"

She pounced on a book. "Three thousand years ago… the Windigoes… they weren't acting on their own, they were servants of something worse, a monster! I have to warn Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. I have to, before it's too late! But- I have to see Fluttershy first. If she saw it that night- then it's proof she saw what Starswirl the Bearded saw, thousands of years ago!"

Applejack leaned forward. "Fluttershy?" said the Earth pony. "She's okay?"

"She's recovering in the hospital wing. Rainbow Dash is with her and hasn't left her side for two weeks. I have to talk to her… I have to find out what she saw, what happened to her. Then I'll know for sure."

At the mention of Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, fat tears leaked out of Applejack's eyes. Tears of joy. "Ah thought- Ya sent me the letter, an' ya said that Fluttershy was hurt and maybe dyin', an-"

Twilight reached forward to hug her again. At that, the words began to pour out of Applejack. "Granny Smith's gone, Twi. It happened last night. Her heart stopped, nothing any o' us could've done… it was like she- like she saw somethin' through the window, an' whatever it was, it scared her to death. She'd been actin' weird for weeks…"

The news of another attack, if it was indeed an attack, only hardened the fire in Twilight's eyes. "I'm sorry, Applejack."

"Big Mac's watchin' Applebloom an' the others, an' he's not lettin' any of 'em outside the house until Ah get back. All of us are with ya. Whatever this thing is, it's not gettin' one more pony. Even if Ah have to take it on by my lonesome."

"You're all here," said Twilight, her frame quivering with energy. "And together, we can stop it."

She rummaged through her saddlebags and pulled out a familiar wooden box, a box that surged with elemental power.