It is almost sunset when Twilight and Spike reach the capital of Unicornia, Canterlot.

Canterlot is build into the side of a mountain with two waterfalls coming down from the top. One is large and creates a short river that serves as a moat, and then that river drops off into another waterfall, where the water then proceeds to pour into an even larger river that goes as far as the eye can see into the plains and forests of the lands. The second waterfall is thinner and fuels a river inside the city that also drops out a short distance later to meet the first waterfall at the bottom. The mountain the city is build into is mostly rocky, but it does have patches of trees jutting from random locations and their tips are covered in snow.

The portion of the city that extends from the mountain to overlook the plains and small villages is being held up by an ingenious network of stacked bricks. From there, white towers of various heights stand tall and proud with their golden roofs that shine in the sinking sun, and on top of the towers are suns made of large glass balls and bronze craftily molded to look like curving flames that are attached to the glass.

Guarding the city is a round fortress with two towers, one on each end, that fly the flags with the gold sun of Unicornia, and the only way across the river is a bridge that remains raised.

“Halt!” barks a guard from the safety of one of the towers, using a voice amplifying spell to be heard.

Twilight and Spike pull their reigns to stop their horses, which whine, snort and stomp the dying grass in complaint of the unpleasant tugs against their jaws.

“It's not like we could walk across the water,” grumbles Spike as he pets his horse' neck.

“Who goes there!” shouts the same guard.

Twilight activates a voice spell of her own with a brief glow of her horn. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle the Purple, daughter of High King Night Light Sparkle and Most Faithful Student of Queen Celestia of Armonia. The drake in my company is my assistant, Spike.”

A heavy, awkward silence comes and Spike snorts a laugh, prompting Twilight to look at him curiously.

“What?” says Twilight.

“You sure like flaunting your title,” snickers Spike.

Twilight frowns. “Well, what else was I supposed to say? 'I'm Twilight so let me in'? You have to be formal around unicorns.”

“Sure. You just like bragging about being a Princess and Celestia's student.”

Twilight can't help but smile at that statement. “That, too.”

“We will permit you entrance,” says the guard, prompting the duo to look at the fortress with relieved smiles. “But High King Sparkle will like to have a word with you, Princess Twilight.”

Twilight's smile disappears with a groan as she hunches over on her horse, and Spike has to keep his horse in control because it takes a couple of steps back as if the very meeting spells their doom.

“Do I have to?” says Twilight, her voice almost whiny.

“Yes,” says the guard bluntly.

Twilight sighs. “Fine.”

The guard orders the bridge lowered, and the quietness gracing the landscape is broken by the echoes of gears cranking and chains sliding against the metal pulley network. When the bridge made of thick wood and large metal slams to the ground, it knocks away a cloud of dead grass and dirt, and its explosive landing shakes the earth and hurts everyone's ears.

The horses whine and stomp the ground, shaking their heads wildly while Twilight and Spike try to comfort them. Though, this is hard for them to do since they are also trying to massage their ears from the painful effect of the lowered bridge.

“When will they get that stupid bridge fixed?” complains Spike.

“I don't know,” sighs Twilight. “But you know how budget cuts work. There's always a tradeoff somewhere.”

The two make their slow approach to the round fortress, with Twilight keeping her eyes locked at the phalanx of soldiers at the entrance and Spike staring at the towers piercing the sky with dissent.

“Yeah, I can tell,” says Spike with a snort.

When they cross the bridge, which is splintering and rusting in large areas, they get off their horses and walk up to the defensive barrier of soldiers. They are clad in silver armor with white trim, and all of them have a basic rectangular shield with their spears aimed at the duo and their broadswords sheathed.

Twilight and Spike stop and stare at the defense, both clearly annoyed by what they are seeing.

“Really?” scoffs Twilight. “Is this how you welcome a Princess?”

The soldiers clear a path and the last person that Twilight and Spike want to see steps forward with a cocky smirk and his hands clasped behind his back.

His ivory coat glitters in the light and his light blonde mane is combed straight and obviously washed with the finest soap royalty can buy. He is wearing a blue tunic with red trim and a thick belt and pair of boots, with the belt holding a sheath that has a rose imprinted on it; even the handle of his sword has a rose design on it.

“You can never be too careful, Princess,” says the stallion, his voice oozing like sludge with the amount of self-righteous superiority in his tone.

“Blueblood,” seethes Twilight.

“Last I checked, that was my birth-name. But you have been away for quite some time, Princess Twilight.” He extends his white gloved hand to the lavender mare. “Come. The King is waiting.”

Twilight sighs heavily and reluctantly gives her horse to one of the two guards that walk up to her and Spike. However, her number one assistant shows greater reluctance than she in regards to giving up his pet, and even jabs at the guard threateningly with his sharp fangs exposed.

“If there is one scratch on my horse, you're dead,” growls Spike.

The guard gulps audibly and Twilight sighs heavily and rolls her eyes as she hooks her arm around Spike's and pulls him away. He stumbles, but quickly regains his composure and follows Twilight with his hand on his sword's hilt and his reptilian eyes still on the guard leading his horse away.

“Nopony is going to hurt your horse,” assures Twilight sternly, her arm still linked to the drake's.

Spike grumbles what can only be profanity filled doubt and threats, but still he and Twilight follow Blueblood out of the fortress.

After an hour of ascending the dozen levels and bullying their way through the crowd of peasants, guards and nobles, the three finally reach King Night Light's bedchambers. The hall leading to the said room has been lined with marble statues and stained glass depictions of past kings, bathing the plain white hall and statues with tints of many bright colors. The guards that stand forever vigilant are stationed in front of each statue with white armor that has gold trim and they wear black capes with the sun stitched on them. All of them are armed with spears with large, curved blades and they carry black shields that also have the sun on them.

When the trio actually enters the hall, the guards appear almost like statues, and the two jump when the closest one barks about Twilight's return and they freeze when the guards raise their spears at a forty five degree angle. This makes the focus on the large oak and metal doors and its two guards at the far end more defined.

Spike and Twilight stand completely still, watching with big eyes as the guards remain motionless. Only Blueblood continues on, still matching that arrogant smirk of his with his steps.

“I always hated this part,” whispers Spike, but with the empty hall, his whisper almost sounds like a shout, making him cringe.

“It is just ceremony, Master Spike. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now, please hurry along. I would like to check on my servants to make sure they don't ruin my parfait again,” says Blueblood.

Spike and Twilight hurry their steps to catch up with Blueblood, and their steps sound like a set of beating drums. And despite Twilight's best efforts, she cannot keep her attention focused on the double doors; instead her eyes keep exploring her own body as a curse of chronic self-conscious invade her conscious. She is supposed to be the Princess of Unicornia, and yet she is wearing a cloak that is caked with mud, has loose strands poking out of the seams, and is wearing a discolored tunic and boots that have been repaired too many times to count. She doesn't even want to think about how she smells, either. In fact, with these observations stacking against her, Twilight can't help but think about how her assistant and palace guards are dressed better than her.

When the three reach the door, Blueblood presses his palms against its polished wood and pushes it open. The door's old, metal hinges creak and the door groans as it fights her every step of the way. When the door is all the way open, Twilight and Spike hesitantly step into a dimly lit, circular room that is getting its light from a fireplace and a line of lit candles near a desk that has a pile of books and scrolls. Some of the books and scrolls have fallen to the fur rug and a pail next to the desk is overflowing with crumbled parchment and empty ink wells.

Twilight scans the room for her King and father, and spots him sitting on a chair that almost eats him up from its massive build and thick cushions. His blue coat is pale, except for the dark bags under his sick, golden eyes that stare at the dancing flames, devoid of any life. If Night Light's hand had not been rubbing a small pendant in his hand or break the mold of silence with his low wheeze, Twilight would have thought him dead.

“I will leave you three alone,” says Blueblood.

Twilight and Spike both look at him and he flashes an odd smile before he pulls the door shut, creating a thud that sounds like a cannon. With the door shut, they turn back to the King, with Spike scrutinizing the room and Twilight sighing dreadfully.

“Stay here,” orders Twilight.

Spike nods and rubs the hilt of his blade as he leans against the wall, and Twilight carefully approaches Night Light. He doesn't even notice her until she puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Father?”

Night Light pauses his stroking and looks up at Twilight with a blank expression. Seconds later, a sick smile gradually stretches across his face and he reaches for a polished, wooden cane with an onyx orb at the top.

“Twilight, I am glad you have come,” says Night Light, his voice barely above a whisper. The stallion grunts and his bones crack and pop as he stands up with his plain gray robe falling to the top of his fluffy slippers.

Twilight has to crane her neck to look up at her father when he stands at his full height, and she becomes burdened with guilt when she sees the glint of happiness in his sickened state.

“How have you been, my daughter?” says Night Light.

Twilight smiles anxiously and rubs the back of her neck. “I've been busy doing research for Celestia and myself. Got a little dirty along the way and had a few... eh... strange encounters. Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” assures Night Light. “Have you spoken with your brother recently?”

“Yes. He is still at Breeze, being the local favorite at Klumsy K's.”

“In a sarcastic or truthful way?”

“Well, so far he hasn't been in any fights, threatened to burn down anything or stolen any puppets, so I think he's doing okay.”

“Hmm, well as long as he isn't reenacting that scuffle with Blueblood I guess all is well for the time being. But, I will not keep you long. I know you did not come to see me, but...” Night Light pauses, but his mouth moves like he wants to say something, but can't find the courage or the words to do so. Eventually he sighs with a sickly wheeze he hugs Twilight as tight as he can, which is not very strong. It is weak and flimsy, and he can only rest his head against his daughter's shoulder to enforce his love. “I just wanted to see you again. It has been too long since we shared a moment of our time.”

Twilight tenses, and even when she returns the hug, her arms might as well have been wood, making for a weak, awkward hug.

“I miss you, too,” she says quietly.

Night Light runs his fingers along Twilight back in smooth strokes that brings a sense of comfort to the mare.

“I know we haven't been a family for a long time, but know that what I do, I do because I love you and Shining,” says Night Light. “You two are my world, but sometimes... Sometimes the best thing you can do is send away the ones you love.”

Twilight nods. “I know.”

Night Light pulls away from Twilight, grabs her hand and gently places two pendants on her palm before delicately guiding her fingers to curl around it like a fist. She looks down at her hand, confused, then she looks up at Night Light with tears in her eyes. Something is wrong and she can feel it weighing down her heart and choking her of air.

“Are you sure you're alright?” asks Twilight worryingly as she presses her balled hand against her chest.

Night Light offers a comforting smile. “Don't worry, child, I will be well very soon.” Then he puts his hand on Twilight's shoulder and locks his golden eyes with her purple ones. “Give Shining one of which I gave you and tell him that I am sorry for what I did, but I only did it out of love. And be safe. Both of you.”

Twilight nods. “Don't worry, I'll make sure everything will be okay.”

Night Light chuckles and escorts her towards the door with his hand lightly pressed against her shoulder blade.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” says the sick stallion. Then when he is in front of Spike, his sick smile melts into a frown and he points a shaky finger at the drake. “As for you, Master Spike. Keep her safe and do exactly what she says.”

Spike rolls his eyes. “Sure.” Twilight smack's the back of Spike's head, making him lurch forward and growl irritably as his reptilian eyes narrow at her. But seeing as she shows no signs of apologizing, he sighs and looks at the King with a very forced, thin smile. “Consider it done, Your Majesty.”

A little over an hour after Twilight's meeting with Nightlight, she and Spike reach the destination they traveled three months to get to. The Canterlot Archives. But much to the duo's dismay, Blueblood has insisted on escorting them, thus spoiling the view the two have of the flowery vine engravings leading up to the sun above the entrance.

In front of the Archives is guarded by a gate and a pair of ivory and gold armored soldiers, standing like statues just as their counterparts in the Royal Chambers. It takes Twilight reciting her title, vouching for Spike, and a nod from Blueblood for the guards to open the gate.

Twilight's eye twitches slightly and Spike cringes with annoyance while Blueblood remains steady as the steel gate opens. Its hinges creak and scrape against each other as the bars scratch against the stone tile, and when it hits the wall, its metallic echo reverberates throughout the dark chamber. The other guard then grabs a torch from the wall, uses his magic to light its flame and then dips it on a channel just barely above his head. Instantly, a trail of fire speeds all throughout the Archives, lighting it up with a gentle glow and revealing easily hundreds of rows tightly packed shelves of scrolls and books. That makes Twilight forget all about the repulsive presence of Blueblood.

A massive smile grows on Twilight as she clasps her hands together up to her chest and releases an ecstatic gasp. Spike however, groans and drops his head while Bloodblood stares at all the accumulated dust and caked in dirt with disgust.

“At long last I can finally do research,” says Twilight, finishing with a dreamy sigh.

“The joys of boredom,” quips Spike quietly.

Twilight's smile and joy disappears in a half of a blink as she snaps her head towards him, scowling. “Did you forget why we are here in the first place?”

“Hey, I'm allowed to be bored!”

“This place is filthy,” comments Blueblood with his nose scrunching up as though he is about to sneeze. “Surely you, a Princess of Canterlot, do not want to spend your evening locked in this place with all this dirt.”

Twilight looks at Blueblood. “You do know that I travel a lot, right? That means I don't care about dirt.”

“It is not appropriate for a mare such as yourself to be cooped up in here when you should be enjoying banquets and conversations with the nobles of Unicornia with a pleasant view of the land.”

“Maybe some other time, Blueblood. But I can't right now because me and Spike have too much work to do.”

Blueblood steps behind Twilight and puts his hands on her shoulders while he leans over her so his breath can warm her ears. “Why don't you let your servant fetch what you seek while you relax.”

Blueblood's fingers dig into Twilight's shoulders with his thumbs kneading her shoulders, but despite the pleasant feeling that occurs, she still pulls away from him and jabs her finger against his chest.

“He's not my servant, Blueblood!” yells Twilight furiously with flames flickering from her hands and mane. “He's my assistant! And there is no way in Tartarus I'm going to be relaxing around you, so take your perverted mind somewhere else and zap off!”

Blueblood recoils and Spike stares at the two with enlarged eyes. The pale stallion's eyes are also big with shock, but they quickly shrink down to the narrow slits of hostility and he growls as he tugs the wrinkles out of his outfit.

“Your manners are appalling, Princess,” says the stallion, his voice rumbling with barely contained rage, “but I shall leave you be in this dingy room, as per your wish. Besides, I must be off to see if Mistress Rarity has properly fixed my clothes for the Gala.”

Blueblood huffs, tilts his nose in the air and does an about-face before briskly walking out of the room. Twilight and Spike watch him until he rounds the corner, and when that happens, Spike looks at Twilight and she looks down, taking deep breaths to get the flames simmered down.

“You okay, there, Twilight?” asks Spike carefully.

Twilight takes another breath, then hurries past Spike to get to the wealth of scrolls awaiting them. “Come on, Spike. We've got work to do.”

Nearly four hours later, Twilight is laying in her chair, arms dangling to the floor, jaw wide open with drool pooling out of the corner of her mouth, and a soft snore matching every small rise and fall of her chest. Scattered around her are dozens of scrolls either carelessly tossed aside or hastily rolled up and pushed away. Twilight is at peace and no one can interrupt her. Not even an odd mare sneaking up behind her, snickering quietly to herself. When the mare is next to Twilight, she gradually lifts her hand up next to the sleeping unicorn's ear, and then brings it down as hard as she can!

BANG!!!

Twilight flails in her seat, screaming with her mane standing and has to grip the table so she doesn't topple to the floor with her chair. When she stops, her heart is beating like the wings of a hummingbird and her eyes are large while her fingers leave scratches in the table. She takes a breath, wipes her messy, multi-purple mane out of her eyes and glares towards the source of the cruel joke.

“Spike, I'm going to-!”

Twilight halts her tongue when she sees an earth pony mare with a pink coat and a dark pink, puffy mane staring at her with a wide grin. She is definitely not from Canterlot since her attire consists of a dirty, brown colored long coat that partially covers a worn out burgundy shirt with a poorly tied vest, and a large cylindrical case on her back with a hammer somehow clipped to her belt. But Twilight does not care about appearances, what she more cares about is the scroll that the stranger is holding towards her and the popped paper bag in her other hand.

“Did you pop that next to my ear?” asks Twilight, her finger aimed at the destroyed paper bag.

“Sure did!” says the stranger with pride and a voice that can safely be described as bubbly. Then she bumps the scroll against Twilight's nose, her smile growing uncomfortably larger. “And I think you were looking for this.”

Twilight is hesitant, but still she grabs it and unrolls just the tip, and upon seeing the entry, her eyes widen and she looks up at the pink earth pony.

“Where did you-” Then doubt seeps in and Twilight frowns suspiciously at the earth pony. “How do I know this isn't a joke?”

The earth pony giggles. “Silly filly, if I wanted to play a joke on you, I would have tied your shoelaces together.”

“That's... juvenile.”

“Yeah, but growing up is boring, so I'll take that as a compliment.” The pink pony then clicks her tongue and snaps her fingers to point at Twilight. “See ya around, Twilight.”

And then the strange mare skips out of the archives, singing a song about “scrolls, wonderful scrolls”, leaving Twilight alone and confused about what just happened. She almost questions how the stranger knew her name, but is quick to remember that she is a celebrity in her own right, so she pushes it aside and goes to read the scroll that was given to her.

Year 77 of the Age of Nightmares

Here follows the account of Starswirl Quartz, High King of Unicornia, and the finding of The Amulet of the King.

I have slain the Dark King Sombra by removing his head from his body at the slopes of Mount Dread. The battle was great and costly for us all. Lord Hurricane fell at the hands of Queen Nightmare Moon, maiden of the Dark King, and Prince Buck passed from his wounds shortly after injuring Queen Chrysalis on the tundra. To where she has fled, we know not, but her changelings have scattered and it is my best hope that they remain leaderless.

Many of my stallions, as well as the alicorns from the legions of Armonia, perished in the final battle against the forces of the Nightmare, leaving the Frozen North scarred and layered with countless bodies, furthering its pact with Tartarus. But even treasures can be found in condemned places. Some even call to us, like the Amulet of the King.

I know it has come to me out of destiny, for it called me, bringing with it gifts of immense knowledge, all for me to take and use. It spoke to me from the very pool of blood it laid in, but Celestia wished it to be destroyed by my hand.

I refused her.

She knew what it was, as did I, and I could not let my destiny slip away, much less be destroyed by my own free will.

I know with this Amulet I can finally restore Unicornia to the age that was taken from us by the Nightmare War. With this Amulet, I can guide my nation to its rightful place as the sole ruler of Equestria, from where we will pass our judgment amongst the lesser states from the glory of Canterlot. And with this Amulet and the knowledge it possesses, I know we can one day usurp Faust and the Grand Alicorns of Paradise.

In my lifetime I doubt I will see our ascension, but I will see no harm comes to the Amulet, for the sake of my race. I have marked it with a spell that should the diamond and flames it is consumed with turn green, all will know that it belongs to me and those who carry my bloodline. And this will mark the covenant I have made with the Amulet of the King, ensuring the fate of myself and my descendants will remain bound to it, and in return it will lead the unicorn race to godhood.

Twilight blinks in disbelief at what she has just read. She rereads the entry a few more times, specifically the last paragraph, half a dozen more times just to make sure her eyes are not deceiving her. With the words remaining the same, Twilight holds the parchment up to the light in search of a secret message, and when that doesn't work she tuns around to see nothing but blankness.

Twilight mutters unintelligibly to herself and throws the parchment back on the table and slumps in her chair, hand shaking and fingers raking through her mane. Her eye are huge as they stare at the calligraphy on the scroll, wanting to refuse what she has just read, but knowing full well that she cannot deny it. Ever since Granny Smith's revelation, the stacking evidence has been overwhelming, and the account of Starswirl only makes Twilight want to deny what is happening even stronger.

“This is... wrong,” says Twilight to herself.

“What?” says Spike as he walks up behind Twilight, yawning.

Twilight slumps over the table as she rubs her forehead and brows while shaking her head. She wants to deny it all, but it is getting harder to do so. Her only consolation of it all is that the entry has given her one last clue that will either put her ultimate fear to rest or make it alive and very real.

“Spike, get the horses ready. We need to leave for Greenhill tonight,” says Twilight without taking her hand off of her face.

Spike nods and leaves the room, stretching, and Twilight's horn glows and with a flick of her wrist, the scroll rolls up and flies into her hand. Then Twilight get up and goes to hurry out of the room. The first step is just fine, maybe a little tug that Twilight does not pay much mind to, but the second step makes her foot feel like it is chained to her other foot and before anything can be done, the poor unicorn face-plants the stone floor with a loud thud!

Twilight gets a great taste of the dirt caked into the floor and her face throbs with pain as she sits up, groaning and rubbing the red growing along her muzzle. Then she looks over her shoulder and tilts her feet up to see what had caused her to fall, and that is when she realizes that the pink menace had somehow tied her shoelaces together. Smoke literally rises from her mane.

“Really!?”