They moved quickly through the grand halls and corridors, the sounds of their hooves and clawed feet echoing into the shadowy depths. Twilight did her best to assuage the pooling dread and fear in her chest, but she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that they were about to provoke Summer Cloud into doing something terrible. Let sleeping dragons lie, and all that.

“What’s the plan?” Spike asked as he hopped onto her back.

Twilight set her mouth into a grim line. “We talk first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“Let’s hope that she still respects Princess Celestia after all these years, eh?” Parch Mint chuckled mirthlessly. “Besides outright overpowering her, I cannot imagine any other leverage you might have over the poor filly.”

Despite catching glimpses of things skulking in the shadows they passed, that might or might not have been due to nerves and an overactive imagination, Twilight and her companions reached the library without incident.

Unlike last time, Summer Cloud’s study had the addition of two pegasus guards keeping watch on either side of the doorway. They bristled at Twilight’s approach, and she stopped within earshot of the mare within, about twenty paces from the entrance.

“Summer Cloud, can we please talk?” she called out.

No answer. She could see the mare studiously scribbling away as if deaf to the world.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t have to give up just yet. I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student, and I’m sure that together we can figure out a way to help you.”

Summer’s scribbling faltered for a split second, but she quickly carried on as if nothing had happened. The act didn’t fool Twilight, though. She’d also seen one of her ears twitch; she’d definitely heard most of if not everything she said.

“We might have to try something a little more… direct,” Parch Mint suggested under his breath.

“Yeah. Definitely in denial,” Spike agreed.

“Not just yet,” Twilight whispered. Whilst waiting for a reply, she discreetly used scrying to pierce the visual elements of the projection, and gasped when the pain nearly blinded her. She terminated the spell almost immediately, but the pattern of the arcane threads had already burned itself into her brain: they all sprang from Summer Cloud like threads from the core of a three-dimensional spider web. Whatever the reason for the projection’s existence or maintenance, the thousand-year-old mare had something to do with it; whether its source or conduit, as far as Twilight could tell, she was inextricably linked to it.

And so are we.

Somehow, they had gotten themselves tangled in the mass of interwoven threads. She could see a few possibilities in disentangling themselves – good thing she had gotten some research and practice at that since her experience in watching Celestia’s battle with Nightmare Moon via Zecora’s potion. Otherwise, the complexity and finesse necessary to manipulate the threads would’ve probably stumped her.

She couldn’t start messing with them yet, though. Summer probably wouldn’t appreciate it very much.

Okay, different tack.

“You were close to Princess Celestia, weren’t you?” she asked.

The scratching quill stopped. Twilight couldn’t exactly tell from that distance, but her hoof might’ve tensed up and started trembling as well.

“If she were in your place, what would she have done?”

Summer Cloud looked up from her work and gazed balefully at her, eyes almost glowing with resentment or anger. “Get out.”

At once both guards at the doorway charged, and she heard the rapid treads of hooves coming from behind as well. Despite the impending danger, she somehow found enough time to remember Shining’s quip for botched negotiations.

All right, teatime’s over. We’re going in loud.

Twilight threw up a protective barrier and shoved the guards aside like paperweights. Not enough to knock them senseless, but enough to send them sprawling on the floor. Although she knew that they were little more than pony-look-alike constructs, she still felt a little guilty when they leapt back up and repeatedly bucked at her shield, more so because they clearly didn’t have the strength to break it anytime soon. She moved forward, and the shield simply followed like an upturned fishbowl bouncing pony figurines aside.

She did remember to adjust the shield to allow everything and everyone else to pass unharmed, though. Wrecking Summer’s work and sending her crashing into the back of her study would in all likelihood completely destroy any chance they had left at getting through to her, if they hadn’t, already.

After conjuring a stationary barrier to keep the guards out, she addressed a glowering Summer Cloud directly, “Why are you doing this? We want to help you, but we can’t if—”

“Nopony has or ever will help me,” Summer cried, her voice gradually rising with each syllable until she shrieked, “Why should you be any different?”

Twilight’s ears flattened, but she held her ground and spoke softly, “Couldn’t you at least give us the chance to show that we’re different?”

Summer still bristled, but at least her voice lowered to a growl. “Disappointment. Despair. You don’t know what they truly are. I am alone, irrelevant. There is nothing left for me.”

“Summer, you are not irrelevant. You’re still as much a pony as the rest of us.”

Summer shook her head. “And you make a poor liar. Nopony even knows my name anymore. I’m just a forgotten part of history.”

“I’d bet that Princess Celestia remembers you.”

Upon hearing Summer’s sharp intake of breath, Twilight strode forward and pressed her advantage. “And I’m sure that she’ll do everything she can to help you if she just knew what’s happened; I promise to tell her as soon as possible if you help us get out of here.”

Silence filled the room, until Twilight could almost hear everypony’s individual breaths. Summer stared at the semi-organised mess of unfurled scrolls and scratchy notes on her worktable, seemingly lost in thought.

She glanced at Spike for help, but he only gave her a helpless shrug. Parch Mint, on the other hoof, simply leaned closer and whispered, “She’s having one of those moments again. Good luck getting anything out of her for another hour or two.”

“We don’t have an hour.” She paused to reinforce the barrier at the door, where the guards were still pounding away and added, “Any suggestions?”

“Keep talking about the Princess. She seems to have a soft spot for her.”

“Right.”

Twilight cautiously trotted to the worktable. “Summer, may I?”

Silence answered.

After a moment of hesitation, she placed one hoof by the side of the table, where she expected Summer to draw the line of crossing into her personal space. When she didn’t react to the intrusion, Twilight slowly sidled up to her, saying, “You know, Princess Celestia taught me a lot about magic. I had many teachers, but whenever I got stumped with difficult concepts, she was always there to walk me through it until I understood.” She chuckled nervously. “Even when I woke her up in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep until I figured something out.”

She got around the table to Summer’s side, but the mare didn’t get up from her seat or even look at her. But Twilight could tell from the angle of her ears that she was listening. She briefly considered putting a hoof on her shoulder, but decided against it.

“I don’t know what she was like during your time, but if I had to guess, she’d be just as caring as I remember. If she could put off sleep to answer a little filly’s questions on obscure branches of magic, I’m sure that she would never hesitate to come to the rescue of one of her lost students.”

Summer Cloud remained silent, but Twilight saw that her posture had lost some stiffness, so she kept talking about Celestia. She went into great detail about how much Celestia had influenced hers and Spike’s education and upbringing alongside their parents, ranging from their time under her direct tutelage to her final nudge towards pursuing friendship beyond Canterlot’s walls.

All the while, she kept an eye on Spike and Parch Mint through the corner of her eye. Between nervous glances towards the guards bashing on the barrier blocking the doorway and curious gazes at whatever odd relics Summer had placed in her study, Spike seemed fully preoccupied. Parch Mint, on the other hoof, had his horn glowing a faint yellow as he inspected their surroundings. Searching for wards, maybe? Twilight couldn’t spare the concentration to parse his magic, so she simply hoped that he knew not to do anything that might provoke Summer Cloud.

“Anyway, that was how I learned that friendship is magic,” she concluded. “Ponies aren’t meant to be alone. I don’t know how you managed it, but I understand how much—”

“Understand?” Summer growled. “Do not patronise me. You know nothing about what I have lived through, you foal!” Her eyes blazed with green light as her horn flared, and Spike and Parch Mint immediately ducked for cover.

Oh no. Wrong word. Totally the wrong word!

Too late to backtrack. Quick as thought, Twilight teleported back to her original position between Summer Cloud and her companions and threw up a shield dome around them just as Summer fired a beam of magic straight at her. She repulsed the attack easily enough, but it had the unfortunate side effect of deflecting the energy onto everything else in the study. As soon as the storm of quills and loose paper had settled, Summer’s stunned surprise turned to an ugly mask of rage as she ground her teeth and redoubled her efforts to send them flying.

The second blast had a lot more power behind it. After just a few seconds, Twilight had to draw some magic away from her barrier at the door to keep the shield up, at the risk of letting the guards break through and take them from behind.

“Well, this is exciting,” Parch Mint quipped.

Twilight bit back an irritated remark and focused on maintaining her shield. To his credit, the old stallion at least had the sense to help by contributing his magic to her spell. Their combined magic held up under the onslaught, but something about Summer’s spell made it a struggle even then. Most unicorns used pure energy focused on a single point that one could counter simply by concentrating most of a barrier’s strength at the point of contact. But instead of dispersing like a jet of water from a hose striking a solid object, Summer’s magic clung to the barrier’s dome and flowed around it, and she could feel multiple, shifting points of concentrated pressure bearing down on it. She had to expend way more magic by spreading it evenly across the whole barrier since she had no way of reliably predicting Summer’s point of attack.

Her world shrunk to a little sphere in the crushing grip of a vice. Spike shouted something, but she couldn’t spare the attention. She resented even the drop of sweat sliding down her cheek.

Something scraped her knees.

Twilight realised that her hind legs had buckled, and her front ones were close to following suit, judging by the way they kept wobbling. If she could just—

No. Too much!

She teleported all three of them several paces to the side as Summer’s magic beam punched a hole through the barrier and struck the spot where she’d stood seconds before. Twilight still had enough power to hold the doorway, but she probably couldn’t stand up under another blast like that.

Quick as lightning, Summer followed up with another bolt of magic, and Twilight failed to dodge.

An odd sense of looseness spread from her chest where the bolt had struck, and Twilight looked down to find her chest glowing green. Her vision blurred, overlaid with shadows and silhouettes of towering structures. A twisting sensation followed, like threads unravelling, and then by pain as something within her began tearing apart.

Twilight screamed and threw whatever power she had left into a general counterspell, hoping that it would nullify the effect. To her relief, the pain subsided to a tolerable level, though she found herself sprawled on her back with Parch Mint by her side, grimacing as he rubbed his jaw.

Did I kick him?

She rolled onto her belly and tried to mumble an apology, but only managed a dull groan.

Summer Cloud stood from behind her worktable, with wisps of smoke rising from the red-hot tip of her horn as she panted for breath. At that moment, Twilight’s barrier at the doorway failed, and four guards came thundering into the study to surround Twilight and Parch Mint.

“That… that lasted a lot longer than I expected.” Parch Mint coughed and tried to get up, but only crumpled back to the floor and groaned. “Do we have another plan?”

Twilight measured her reserves and felt her ears droop. She had barely enough magic left to manage a few simple spells, let alone fight Summer Cloud and all her guards whilst protecting Parch Mint and Spike. Then, she blinked.

Wait. Where is he?

“I… I warned you. But you just… you just had to persist,” Summer said between breaths. She spat on the floor and shook her head. “Well, this time, you—”

“That’s enough!”

All heads turned to Spike. He’d somehow gotten atop one of the bookshelves without anypony noticing, hunched over on all fours like a gargoyle with his front claws gripping the edge. Smoke streamed out of his nostrils as he bared his teeth at her.

“Wretched lizard,” Summer muttered. “Guards, seize them!”

Heavy hooves grabbed Twilight, and she gasped when Spike took a deep breath in response.

“Wait!” she cried out, and then blinked when she realised that Parch Mint and Summer had also done the same, with looks of horror plastered on their faces.

Too late. Spike breathed a jet of green dragonfire down on the bookshelf’s contents.

Summer Cloud shrieked and shot a bolt of energy at Spike. He dodged and leapt to an adjacent bookshelf, where he leaned over the edge and snorted out a tongue of flame in warning. Summer trembled, apparently torn between revenge and saving her books. A moment later, she growled and cast a spell at the blazing bookshelf.

Unfortunately, as Twilight had learned a long time ago, dragonfire and unicorn magic did not go well together. The flames simply crackled and spat angrily when her magic made contact. Another attempt only led to an explosion of sparks that threatened to spread flames to other shelves and tables.

The guards released Twilight. Two galloped out of the study, whilst the other two dashed over to the shelf and tipped it over, spilling its blazing contents onto the floor. Then, as soon as the shelf slammed down and smothered the flames, the other two guards came back with pails and dumped water all over the crackling mess.

As steam and black smoke filled the study, Parch Mint grabbed Twilight by the foreleg and pulled her onto all fours before herding her back and out the doorway. She stumbled along, unable to put out of her mind the sight of Spike turning all those ancient books to ash. Still woozy from the massive expenditure of magic, she halted just fifteen or so paces from the doorway and sat on her haunches as she tried to cough out the smoke she’d accidentally inhaled. Parch Mint did the same.

Seconds later, she heard the scratchy noise of Spike’s clawed feet, and she turned to find him sprinting out of the black cloud.

Twilight blinked. “Where’d you find those?”

Spike glanced at the Spike-sized sword and shield in his grip and shrugged. “I just did.” He then turned around and adopted a defensive stance in front of her, like a knight ready to defend his charge.

They stared in silence at the entrance to the study, from which smoke and steam still billowed out. After a while, the black cloud became suffused with a green glow. Then, Twilight felt her hairs stand on end as an eerie moan filled the castle. It steadily grew in volume, until it turned into a howl of anguish that turned her legs to jelly. Spike yelped and dropped his armaments before dashing back to huddle with her and Parch Mint as the cloud of smoke surged out like a tidal wave.

The green light vanished, and the wail petered out, echoing through the castle’s cold and lonely interior. Wisps of smoke wafted out of the study, accompanied by faint sobbing.

Twilight shared a look with Spike and Parch Mint.

“Regrettably harsh, but I think this is progress,” Parch Mint whispered as he squinted at the dark doorway. “I’ve never known her to display this much… vulnerability.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “Think it’s a trick?”

Twilight shakily rose and slowly approached the study. “Well, it’s not like there’s much else we can do.”

They cautiously entered the study again. The place reeked of burnt paper and sulphurous dragonfire. Twilight conjured some light and found motes of ash floating in the air like grey snow, settling on the mess of books, scrolls and other texts strewn haphazardly amidst the overturned furniture. Nearby, the blackened bookshelf still gave off steam from its charred wood. The guards had disappeared.

Summer Cloud sat on her haunches in the epicentre of the wreckage, head hanging low as her tears fell to the floor. Twilight felt a pang of guilt seeing her broken and crying like that, even though she had technically attacked them first.

Twilight inched as close as she dared, despite a bit of silent, frantic waving and head shaking from Spike. Parch Mint at least appeared cautiously optimistic from the encouraging nod he gave her.

Getting a bit of déjà vu, here…

Thankfully, Summer didn’t object to their intrusion. She simply cried on, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Things got more than a little awkward after several minutes of that, and Twilight began weighing the merits of comforting her against the risk of triggering another fit of anger. No telling how long it would take her to work it out of her system, though.

Eventually, Twilight worked up the courage to speak, but Summer beat her to it.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I am sorry.”

“I—we, uh, we’re sorry, too.” Twilight bit her lip as her heart rate climbed, remembering just how little it had taken to set her off. “We didn’t mean for things to get that far out of hoof.”

Summer held her head in her hooves and exhaled slowly, then turned to Twilight with reddened eyes wet with new tears. “I appreciate your… tact. But I—I will take responsibility for my poor conduct. It is terribly unbecoming for an apprentice of Princess Celestia to treat wayward travellers like that.”

Amongst her friends, this would usually be the point where everypony would get into a hug of reconciliation. After a moment of consideration, Twilight decided that she probably could use the emotional support and deserved an offer, at the very least. She inched closer and extended both forelegs in invitation, but that only got a confused frown from Summer. Understanding dawned on her face a moment later, followed by the tiniest bit of restrained recoil.

Twilight felt blood rushing to her cheeks and gingerly set her hooves down once more, feeling like that one time Shining had caught her dancing in the shower. The silence grew deafening, but Twilight’s brain had ground to a halt under the fear of saying something that might make things even more awkward.

“Well, now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries and apologies,” Parch Mint spoke up, trotting forward to Twilight’s side, “could we all settle down and figure out what’s next on the agenda? Summer, I know that time is nearly meaningless to us here, but I’m afraid that this filly and her dragon don’t share that luxury. Or curse, whichever way you see it.”

Professor, you’re a real hero.

Summer Cloud silently appraised him for a moment, still as a statue, then sighed and nodded. “Straight to the point, I see, even after all these decades. Very well. I suppose I owe you all that much.” She turned her gaze to Twilight and added, “You strike me as the type never satisfied without knowing answers; if you like, I will try to answer any questions you might have before we part ways.”

Twilight and Parch Mint sat on their haunches before Summer, and Spike settled by her side. After taking a moment for consideration, she decided to start with something related to their most pressing issue.

“Parch Mint said that he never found a way out. But two ponies did. How did Ferrite and Longshot leave this place?”

Summer averted her eyes. “I granted them their wish. I gave them death.”

Twilight felt her bones grow cold. “You… you killed them?”

“I warned them, but they would not believe me. When I finally gave in to their demands, their bodies had long since rotten away. What else would they find but death?” Summer turned her head to one side and seemed to stare through a wall, at something only she could see. “I… I saw their faces when I untangled them from this projection. I heard their screams as they faded away…”

Summer’s jaw trembled, and she suddenly choked back a sob. “Oh, stars above, I have taken ponies’ lives. I never meant to become a… a wretched abomination. Not like this.” She shook her head. “Not like this…”

Twilight shifted a little closer, nodding discreetly at Spike and Parch Mint for their concerned looks. “But… why?”

“So long ago… At first, I gladly welcomed the company and freely released wanderers who lost themselves in my forgotten realm, after begging them to promise to tell the Princess, anypony, of my fate. They all promised, and they all failed to keep it. Years between every new wanderer, and they all had no prior knowledge of my existence outside of ghost tales. Again and again, I allowed myself to hope that I would find somepony who would send word to the Arcanists, the Wizards, the Masters, the Professors or whatever you now call those who have mastered the arcane arts…”

Summer paused to stare at Twilight, and she felt the ambient temperature drop at the sight of the deep weariness in her amber eyes.

“Again and again I dared to hope, only to find disappointment as the years passed.” She looked down and pawed at the floor. “Eventually, I despaired and simply chose to deceive all who entered my realm. I could not bear to have my hopes destroyed again. For us, the outside world did not exist, and the befuddling nature of this place made it easy to convince most of them so. When they in turn ceased to care for this shadow of life and confronted me, I… I banished them back to the waking world where their bodies must have long since turned to bones.”

Twilight glanced at Parch Mint. Upon noticing her attention, he simply gave her a discreet shrug.

I wonder how many others had been like him, Ferrite and Longshot…

Spike suddenly broke the silence. “Are… are you the Pony of Shadows?”

“I don’t know. Nopony has called me by that name, though it does sound apt for what I have become.” Summer took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. “I… I thank you all for returning me to my senses. Even if I must…” Tears welled up in her eyes anew, and she snorted and pounded her hoof on the floor. “—come to terms with what I have done. Especially to you, professor. I am so, so sorry...”

Parch Mint nodded slowly and chuckled. “Well, it’s far enough in the past that it doesn’t hurt too much anymore. I think I can forgive you.”

“But what happened here in the first place?” Twilight asked. “How did you get this way? And how are you even sustaining this projection?”

Summer Cloud shut her eyes and turned towards the ceiling, as if basking in an imaginary sun. After a moment of silence, she sighed. “I was apprentice to Princess Celestia, a long time ago. I was there when Princess Luna succumbed to the darkness.”

“Oh, so I did guess right,” Parch Mint said, ears perking up instantly. “Little Sparkle here’s filled me in on a bit of history, but to hear a first-hoof account is just perfect!”

“I wish I shared your enthusiasm,” she murmured. “Remembering is… unpleasant.”

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Twilight said gingerly, even though she felt a little guilty about totally hoping that she wouldn’t stop.

“No, I think I can manage.” She took another moment to brace herself, then tossed her mane and continued, “Nightmare Moon cursed Everfree as Princess Celestia banished her to the moon. Her magic turned the land against us. Crops grew wild and unruly, the animals, feral and terrifying. After the terrible battle between the Two Sisters, Everfree had been shaken to its foundations and could not stand against the rising terrors of the forest, and so we fled. But a few scholars such as myself returned every now and then to salvage what we could of their Royal Highnesses’ library.”

Twilight nodded slowly. In her place, she probably would’ve done the same. “How dangerous was it?”

“Dangerous enough. But Princess Celestia spared us guards for each trip, and they fared well enough at fending off wild creatures.” Summer shook her head. “The details elude me, but I believe it’s most likely that a wall or arch collapsed on me whilst I toiled in the darkness. Next thing I knew, I was alone in this forsaken place.”

“Ouch,” Spike whispered.

Twilight nudged him gently and got an apologetic nod.

“Everfree has magic of its own. I don’t know whether I had somehow created this projection or if Everfree had made it to house my dying consciousness, but I believe that I am bound to it; I can even tap into a portion of its magic. Since then, I have spent most of my time transcribing corporeal texts into ethereal forms before the preservation enchantments failed.” She gestured out the doorway, towards the labyrinthine series of bookshelves outside. “What you see is a shadow of the real castle. And like shadows, it can be distorted, altered. I made this one mine, and shaped its books to my memories through centuries of work.”

Twilight bit her lip and snuck a sideways glance at the charred bookshelf.

“Oh. Um…” Spike twiddled his thumbs and averted his eyes. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know—I mean, yeah. Sorry.”

Summer gave them a rueful smile. “I consider it a small price for the return of some sanity to me.”

“Maybe a little company, too, eh?” Parch Mint added with a grin. “Now that you’re past the hostilities, we can get to the really important things, like discussing the appalling state of the history section. You still haven’t let me add my contributions to what you’ve missed for the past five centuries.”

“Some companionship would not go amiss, yes,” Summer agreed. Then, turning to Twilight and Spike, she said, “I think it’s best we part ways, now. We do not know what might have happened to your bodies since entering my realm.”

Twilight opened her mouth to protest, to give voice to the dozens of burning questions in her mind about Summer Cloud’s experience under Celestia’s tutelage and Equestria’s history, but then remembered just how easily a mishap could leave them permanently stuck there with no bodies to return to. One loose brick or a wandering predator, and…

“Okay, but what about you? Don’t you even want to know what’s been going on in the rest of Equestria? What will you do now?”

Summer winced. “I desire to learn more, but not at the price of the vain hope that will surely follow. And as for your other question; I served as Head Librarian under Their Royal Highnesses, and I have served as scribe, steward and librarian here for centuries; I see no reason to stop now.”

“I—I guess that’s something.” Twilight looked away and scratched the back of her head. “So, how do we get out?”

“I can untangle your astral forms from this projection. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about the pain, though.”

“Wait.” Spike planted himself firmly between Twilight and Summer. “What pain?”

Twilight frowned. “So that’s what it was. You tried to banish me earlier, didn’t you?”

Summer nodded. “Yes. Except that this time, I will do it as gently as I can. I’ll apologise in advance for any pain I might still inflict.”

“Uh, Twi, what’s she talking about?” Spike asked with a frown. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“Neither do I, but I know no other way to free you. Now, are you both ready?”

Twilight didn’t answer straight away. She gazed at Summer Cloud, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motives, but her drooping ears, sagging shoulders and tear-streaked face spoke of somepony simply too tired and worn to bother with guile. Her conscience demanded to help Summer instead of leaving her alone in her nightmare again, but then she also remembered that she had a duty to Spike and her friends. She could not risk an extended stay.

I’m sorry.

Twilight wrapped a foreleg around Spike and drew him close. “It’s okay. We’ll be all right.” After taking a moment to steel herself for the experience, she sighed and nodded to Summer Cloud. “Ready as we’ll ever be. Do it.”

Summer glanced at Parch Mint. “I’m sorry. I should’ve done the same for you ages ago.”

He waved it off and gestured for her to get on with it. “Eh, I’ll live. Now send them home before we tempt fate any further.”

Summer’s horn glowed. “Farewell, Twilight Sparkle and Spike.”

Twilight flinched when her magic connected. The twisting, unravelling sensation returned, except that this time it felt closer to a really bad case of pulled muscle or pins and needles than pulling teeth without anaesthetic. Spike grunted and groaned but otherwise made no other complaint as he scrunched his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists.

She winced and shook her head, but it didn’t help with the dizziness. Black spots and bluish lights hovered at the corners of her vision, hinting at shapes and forms just outside her perception. Her jaw hung slightly when she looked down and realised that she could see the floor through her forelegs; her whole body had become translucent. She wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or disappointed that it didn’t show any internal organs, because that would’ve been fascinating, if more than a bit gross.

It got increasingly harder to focus. Just as her extremities started fading away entirely, she cried out, “I promise: we’ll find a way to help you!”

Summer gave her a sad smile. “Forgive me for not raising my hopes. Fare thee well.”

“Best of luck, smart filly!” Parch Mint called out, waving goodbye.

A pit opened up beneath her and Spike, and the world went dark as they fell.

Twilight gasped and sat upright, surrounded by spectres.

What?

She shivered and rubbed at her gummy eyes. As her vision cleared, she glimpsed bookshelves and stone arches shrouded in shadows, with shafts of cold, blue light here and there. A few minutes more, and she recognised her resting spot in an alcove overlooking the main aisles of the castle library.

“Brrr. What happened?” Spike groggily asked, stifling a yawn. Then, he blinked as he took note of their surroundings. “Uh… how long was I out for?”

Judging by the chilling ambient temperature, blue light and fog obscuring much of the lower level, Twilight placed the time as somewhere just before dawn.

“Sun will be up soon, I think,” she said, then frowned. “Don’t know why we decided to stay the night, though. What were we thinking?”

Spike shivered again, and Twilight responded by casting a thermal spell to raise the ambient temperature to something a little more comfortable. She sighed in satisfaction when warm air soaked through her coat and slumped down to cuddle with Spike.

“Oh hey, what’s with the clingy stuff?” he asked.

Twilight smiled, noting that he hadn’t asked her to stop, though. “Don’t know. Just felt like the right thing to do, for some reason.”

“Right. Uh, are we going home now?”

“Well, I don’t really feel like flying until we get a little more light outside. I suppose we can just wait until Princess Celestia brings up the sun.”

“I’m kinda hungry.”

Twilight’s stomach rumbled in agreement.

She chuckled. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

As Twilight rummaged through her saddlebags, she noted the distinct lack of a certain journal that she’d come to retrieve in the first place. They’d already searched the whole place, hadn’t they? They must’ve, having spent the entire day and night in the old castle. Still, something else nagged at the back of her mind, just out of reach.

Something probably important that I won’t remember until I’ve gone all the way back to Ponyville...

Twilight fished out a pack of leftover cookies and passed it to Spike, who started munching away appreciatively. She then settled down and nibbled at hers slowly as she gazed at the cloudy sky through gaping holes in the arched ceiling. A spider stalked across one of the gaps on its nearly invisible web, and Twilight frowned when she noticed the starburst marking on its abdomen.

Wait a minute...

The memories came trickling back at first, starting with the spiders. Spike falling unconscious. Her pursuit into the astral projection. Parch Mint. Summer Cloud. The trickle turned into a flood…

“Uh, Twi?”

Twilight felt a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth and hastily wiped it away as she turned to find Spike staring at her.

“You okay?” he asked. “You kind of spaced out for a while back there.”

“I…”

This isn’t a fever dream, is it?

Everything had felt real enough. And unlike those dreams that one just vaguely remembered after waking up, the details of which continued to slip away the longer one stayed awake, these kept growing in clarity the more she thought about it.

“All right. You’re kind of weirding me out right now,” Spike declared. She heard him shiver. “Also, something feels wrong about this place.”

“You’ve said that before…” she whispered.

“Eh?”

Twilight raised her foreleg and inspected her fetlock. The skin underneath her coat felt a little swollen and itchy. Without saying a word, she went over to Spike and inspected his shoulders.

“Whoa, what gives?”

“Just give me a moment.”

She found a little lump under his scales, where a star spider must’ve bitten him. She then sat on her haunches and swept her gaze over the library, drowning in the flood of resurfacing memories. Gradually, she managed to tune out her thoughts and focus on the silence filling the castle. In the gaps between Spike’s concerned queries, she could just make out indistinct sighs and whispers, overlaid with faint outlines of figures and stretching hallways.

Summer Cloud.

Maybe she’d found the reason nopony had ever spoken of her. It seemed easy enough to dismiss everything as a dream after waking up like that, and she wouldn’t blame anypony for coming to that conclusion. Heck, the average pony might even fare worse from the combined effects of astral displacement and spider venom, unlike an alicorn and a dragon.

This hypothesis requires more testing. Later, though.

“Spike, I’ve changed my mind. We’re going back to Ponyville right now.”

He blinked. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain on the way. The last thing we need is a relapse.”

Without further protest, Spike hopped onto her back and she leapt into the air, rising up and out of the castle through a gap in the roofing. And this time, they managed to cross the boundary of the castle grounds, soaring over the dark, misty forest as they made their way back home.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that even though I’m the princess of friendship, it doesn’t mean that I can be everypony’s friend, and there are some friendship problems beyond my ability to solve. The world doesn’t revolve around me.

Yesterday, Spike and I met a subject of yours who has shown more dedication and loyalty in her service to you than anypony I have ever known, both in life and in history. Her name is Summer Cloud. I hope you remember who she is.

No, there was no time travel involved.

But she is in trouble, and I think you of all ponies are the only one who can reach out to her. I know there’s the big harvest festival event tomorrow, but if there’s ever a time to skip stuff like that for personal reasons, this would be it.

Summer Cloud needs you.

Still your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S.: You’ll want to hear the rest of this in person, and so will Princess Luna. I’ll reach Canterlot by sundown.