Celestia couldn't remember the last time she'd stepped into this room.

The doors were shattered inwards, and the splinters crunched underhoof as she walked across the floor. The damage was recent, Gareth had been through here. She could see him in her mind's eye, shouting into the depths of a dead castle, looking for his missing wife. Looking for her.

Everything was as she had left it. Golden curtains, plush pillows, a beautiful full-length mirror and a rug that you could curl up and sleep on. She blinked.

Everything was as she left it… as she abandoned it. Light faded as reality returned. Moths had devoured the curtains, the pillows were hard sacks, her mirror was shattered and the rug was nothing more than a few scraps of fabric.

"Ma'am?" The Colonel peered out the corner of the stairwell. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Celestia responded. "Forgive me, but I must do this on my own. Please, wait with the Pegasus express team."

"Ma'am," he said, pulling back. His hoofsteps echoed up the stairs.

Celestia turned back, taking a step. Crunching paper reached her ears. She looked down, snatching a sheet up from the floor. It was a sketch of Rockingham's twin-spired gates. She… remembered this. The smell of grass and soil filled the air. A fresh spring breeze blew through her hair.

She looked up. A trail of scattered sketches lead from her ivory vanity. A sketch of a dog, a tree, a knight on a horse. Eggs, fruit, a market place. The sights, sounds, tastes and smells of England all rushed back. The faces changed over time, as did the castle.

Gareth was right; she had been through the mirror more than once. The world of humans had… charmed her. They were… there was something about them that enthralled her. She remembered that. But whatever that quality was…

What was it? She thought, brushing the sketches aside. There had to have been a reason.

A sketch of Gareth stared her in the face. There he was, riding Potestas. Celestia had been sitting next to a tree when she drew this one. His face was commanding, urging the destrier forward.

Something was wrong. When she looked at the picture, she ought to have remembered feeling elated, or at least respect, but she felt neither. No; she felt distrust, even anger. The person depicted was not a nice person.

No, she didn't have time for this. Celestia laid the picture back down, opening the doors of the vanity and searching inside. A thick binder of notes lay upon the bottom rung, painted black. Celestia towed it out with a flick of her horn.

She held it up in the air, slowly turning it. The book was one of the few things here that hadn't decayed with time. An uncomfortable feeling wrapped around her heart. Even without opening it, she could see her sister hunched over it, furiously scribbling into the pages. Every now and again, she stopped and glared at Celestia, jealously, playfully, covering what she'd written with a shoulder.

After a moment, Celestia realised that she was… scared of this thing. She was scared of a book. Just what would have Gareth done if he saw her now? No, she knew. He'd roll his eyes, grab the book and pull it open. He wouldn't be afraid of something like this. Just like with those doors, he'd move forward with dedication… he wouldn't be afraid.

"But he was afraid, wasn't he?" Celestia found herself murmuring. There was fear, real fear, in Gareth's eyes when she told him to go with the Rat. He didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway… because she made him do it. Did she take advantage of—?

Celestia squeezed her eyes shut. No, she just was pushing him. He needs to learn to accept this world, and that's never a pleasant process. Now, it was time to do some accepting of her.

The binder hit the vanity with a thud, scattering dust. The spine creaked open loudly, revealing an archaic script of Equestrian.

'Sun butt begonne' a scribble noted in the margin, accompanied by a frowning blue alicorn's face. A memory of childish excitement filled her mind. She used to peek through this book all the time: her sister's dream diary.

Celestia flipped forward into the introduction. The intent of the diary was laid out: research and documentation. At first, it was purely for research, but eventually it came to be a full account of her activities; whose dreams she dove into, what happened and when. Hopefully Celestia wouldn't need to read too far before—

'I have finally found a consistent method.' That was it. Celestia narrowed her eyes onto the passage. 'Dream magic is fickle, but controllable in the right situation. There art two requirements. One, the dream-div'r wilt be sitting down in view of the moonlight. Two, the dreamer wilt be asleep. With these requirements met, the dream-div'r wilt then cast a battery of spells which art list'd as follows—'

She read on. The spells were simple. 'Drowsiness', a 'protection' charm, and a 'far-seeing' ritual were among the twelve listed. Casting them one at a time was child's play. Casting them in quick succession, on the other hand… that would not be as easy.

Celestia took stock, glancing around the room. Everything that she needed was here, albeit decayed. Chalk would make a ritual circle, a few restoration spells will spin up a bed and the moon was starting to peak over the night horizon.

With a flick of her horn, the decayed cushions flew over to the balcony. They rejuvenated mid-flight, immediately fluffing into lush, white pillows. Another flick and golden curtains spun themselves out of the muck, laying atop the cushions. Celestia walked over, slowly lowering herself down.

Royal Guardsponies milled about in the courtyard, busying themselves at their campsite. Looking to the right, she could see Canterlot Castle in the distance. Gareth was there… and so was her sleeping target.

Her horn lit up in gold, pulsing repeatedly. She drew the ritual circle into the railings, continuing up the wall and into the doorway behind her. Then the spells came. 'Drowsiness', 'protection', 'far-seeing', and more, one after another. Each felt harder than the last, like a sprint down a long corridor.

Cecilia sucked in a breath, stepping through the church doors. Each step was carefully measured in a bride's march. Her white finery flowed in her wake, held up by Sister Ann. Pews creaked as familiar, smiling faces turned to her. She nervously smiled back.

At the end of the aisle, Gareth was there. He was dressed in near-full armour, missing only his helmet and cuirass. Far from composed, his lower lip quivered, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. His fists opened and closed, not stopping until she'd taken her place by his side. He looked like he wanted to forget the ceremony and sweep her off her feet right then. Cecilia secretly hoped that he would.

Father Clemens cleared his throat, raising the bible in his hands. He seemed… unusually sombre, giving Cecilia a strange expression. After a few moments, he began to read their vows. They were long and winding, but Cecilia already knew them by heart. She passed the time by staring into Gareth's loving brown eyes.

"I do," Gareth said with that gorgeous smile spreading across his face. Cecilia flinched; were they already up to this part?

"And you," Clemens said, turning to her. "'Princess' Cecilia of 'Equestria', do you take Sir Gareth Fletcher as your lawfully wedd—"

Cracking and charring wood echoed through the air. Gasps of fear came from the crowd as they looked up at the ceiling. Blazing timber and tiles tore free, crashing into the floor. Within seconds, the roof peeled away, revealing a blinding orange sky.

The Sun stared down upon them. Six spears of fire extended out of its body, waving like swords.

Fear turned to terror as the wedding crowd scattered, fleeing the church in any direction possible. Within moments, through either courage --or paralysed in shock-- only Gareth and Clemens stood by her side.

Then blazing spears streaked down upon them. Cecilia's body felt like iron, transfixed by the encroaching doom. This wasn't something that could be fought.

Neither Gareth nor Clemens knew that. Gareth grabbed her shoulders while Clemens shoved the pulpit forward. Falling in a heap, they ducked down behind it. Gareth held her head in his arms while Clemens held his cross high.

But the Sun could not be denied. The spears harmlessly passed through the wood, the cross, and Gareth's body. They wrapped around her arms, legs and torso, dragging her up into the sky. Cecilia screamed, struggling against it.

A sickening feeling started in her stomach, then extended out to her throat. The feeling kept going, up through her mouth, then her head, then past it. Her fingers and toes cracked, turning to stumps and crawling back into her hands and feet. She looked down. Forehooves stared back.

Gareth and Clemens stared with wide-eyed horror. Clemens was the first to move. His robe twisting as he stepped back, mutely shaking his head. With a final gasp, he turned and fled.

But Gareth didn't move. His expression slowly changed to bitter despair. He didn't move, and within a few seconds, he alone stood in the burning church.

Celestia's eyes snapped open, staring down at the remains of her nightmare. At once, the spears of fire released her. The lucidity spell has done its job.

Rough beginning notwithstanding, she thought, it looks like I was successful.

She worked out an imaginary kink in her neck, trying to recall what the next step was. Ah, that's right, the Notes mentioned following a 'chord'. With enough willpower, one could journey into the dream of any pony of their choosing. Bad dreams were particularly easy to find… and harrowing. For the sake of the kingdom, Celestia hoped that Noble Era's sleep was at least troubled enough for her to find him.

With a wave of her horn, blinding day was swept aside by a starry night. A rainbow of winding coloured trails followed the stars, stretching out into the horizon. Noble Era's magic was a bright white, a relatively rare colour.

She focused on some of Era's… 'habits'. The way he held his head slightly higher than others, that arrogant smirk, the way he bowed low but kept his eyes open— as if mocking the recipient. Within moments a white line glowed, alighting Celestia's way. Now she just needed to—

"Wait."

Celestia looked down. Gareth stared back. Standing atop the collapsed altar, he was seemingly oblivious of the fire closing in around him. He reached out to her with a forlorn hand as she floated further and further away.

"Please," he whispered, sounding so close that she could have touched him. "Do you, or do you not?"

"What?" Celestia muttered.

"…Will you marry me?"

The fires gathered higher. She had complete control over the dream: Celestia could snuff them out in a moment. Glancing over her shoulder, the trail awaited. She couldn't afford to waste time.

With a sweep of her forehoof, the fire around Gareth vanished. The crowd reappeared in the pews, laughing and smiling as if nothing had happened. Father Clemens stepped back behind the pulpit, righting it and gesturing Gareth to return. Then, another Cecilia appeared next to Gareth, snaking her arm around his and cuddling into his side.

But Gareth didn't turn away. He just kept staring up at Celestia, unmoving, unblinking. Even as she reassembled the church roof, he didn't so much as flinch. A chill ran up Celestia's spine, that silently accusing stare burnt into her subconscious…

The quicker she found Noble Era's dream, the better.

Flying alongside the white trail, Celestia looked up at the other threads. They terminated into similarly coloured stars, each roughly the same size as Celestia. Mumbles and muffled noises emanated from them. Imagines of what was contained inside occasionally surfaced.

One dream featured a tiny filly climbing a tree with her dog. Another had a colt flying on a mattress. One of them was different; the star was twisted, sickly. The mare inside it was violently transforming into a changeling drone. A nightmare. If only she had more time.

"What say you, my love?" Noble Era's voice echoed. It came from her front—

Uh oh. Celestia threw her wings out, abruptly halting. A moment passed, she turned looked down at the white burning star in front of her.

"The chances that the Diamond Dogs could mount a sustained offensive is unlikely," a noble mare responded in a cultured Canterlot accent that sounded disturbingly familiar.

There was a flash of imagery. A red carpet, unicorn nobles, pillars and stained glass murals. Noble Era was dreaming about the throne room.

She grasped the star, kneading the surface. It felt strange, but not uncomfortably so; like warm porridge and bed sheets. Slowly, she shifted the viewpoint about, trying to get a better picture of what was going on.

Instead of just one, there were two seats on the Equestrian throne. Princess Celestia… and Noble Era sat side-by-side.

"Indeed," said Noble Era, turning to the unicorn audience. He wore silver jewellery upon his head and hooves, mirroring Celestia's. "We shall remind the Diamond Dogs of that fact. There need not be war provided they are appropriately—"

Celestia stopped listening. Indignation bubbled up in her chest. No… wait, she thought, this was just his dream. He was not responsible for what his dreams showed him.—

Noble Era turned and nuzzled her dream counterpart. They were smiling, blushing.

—And that was it. She'd had quite enough of this.

The notes suggested that with enough prodding, one could access memories of ponies as well. It was naïve to think that she could gather anything… useful from a surface dream. The only catch was that she had to be a little more 'hoofs on'.

Well, there was nothing for it. Celestia pushed into the star.

The folds of reality parted, and Celestia stepped into Noble Era's study. Books and display cases were dusty, unbroken. She spotted something in a case to the right, a familiar bow. Ah, yes… this must have been where Gareth 'acquired' it.

Noble Era sat at his desk. His horn glowed white, scribbling a quill across parchment. A heavy book stood in a bracket at one end. Every now and again, Noble Era glanced at it in reference, sounding out words. English words.

The door to the study slammed open. Chucky Larms stormed in, glaring daggers at Noble Era before bucking the door closed.

Noble Era turned slowly: not scared, just annoyed. "Hello Representative Larms, may I help you?"

"Era," Larms growled through grit teeth. Suddenly, his mouth twisted up in a rictus grin. "I've gotten your letter… I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself to me in person."

"There's nothing more to be said," Era replied. "I see no need to use the plan. The plot was meant to weed out a pretender to the throne."

"You still think that's her?" Larms let out a hollow, barking laugh. He surged up to Era's side and snatched the book off the pedestal. Flicking to the back, Larms shoved it into Era's face. "Read it, Era, READ WHAT IT SAYS. What does it say?"

Era's muzzle twitched. He slowly pushed the book away to glare at Larms.

"Don't feel like reading it? Allow me!" Larms mockingly cleared his throat. "To whomever is reading this, please forgive me. I am leaving. I cannot tell you where and I will not return. Do not attempt to follow; you will not find me." He looked up, snapping the book closed. "Celestia, FORMER Princess of Equestria!"

"What...?" Celestia breathed. A burning, gnawing sense of horror welled up inside.

"That pony on the throne," Larms said, jabbing a forehoof to the door, "is an imposter, whether she knows that or not. The Celestial throne was supposed to remain empty!"

Everything went out of focus. It was true. Larms was right, she… she really did abandon them.

No! No, this proved nothing, not yet. This was… just a memory! There was still a chance it was a fabrication. Noble Era could have manipulated all this to—

A wet crack rang out. Celestia looked up. Larms lay sprawled out on the floor, his muzzle bleeding.

Era pulled his bloodied forehoof back, his mouth twitching in barely concealed fury.

"No… she isn't," Era stated with pure conviction. He gathered a handkerchief, cleaning his forehoof, before throwing it down to Larms. "If there is even a flicker of her old self, then Princess Celestia will always be my liege. When we promised to serve her, I knew that she would return, regardless of her final orders to us. I waited two and a half years to find her."

"You…" Larms muttered, staggering to his hooves. "You tipped the Colonel off about the Crystal Mirror."

"I did. However, none of that matters now." Era held up a picture, a sketch of Gareth's armour. "Our chief concerns should be learning more about these humans, not questioning our ruler. Celestia is an alicorn, plain and simple. Should you continue to attempt to push your treasonous agenda, then I will withdraw my support of your representation."

Larm's gaze promised violent, his voice deathly cold. "Do that, and you destroy your own reputation as well. You'd be banished from the castle."

"Yes," Era said, unflinchingly. "And If I am to be struck down, then I will cast you down so hard that your body would break my fall." He pointed towards the door. "Now, Representative Larms, I have work to do. Get out."

They glared at each other for several tense seconds. Each one looked ready to pounce upon the other and tear this room apart. Finally, Larms broke away. He walked to the door.

"Just remember something, boy," Larms snarled, pulling it open. "You'd never had gotten that book if it wasn't for me. I want that translation."

The door slammed closed. A second later, Era buried his face into his forehooves. Rubbing it several times, he glanced down at his well-ordered notes. With a sigh of regret, he turned about and stood up.

"Bravado and bluster," he muttered. "I'm running out of time. Larms is going to make his move, soon. The moment he does all this research will be for nothing."

He was right, Celestia realised. If Larms was implicated, then she'd have banished Noble Era as a matter of course… Oh god. That's exactly what happened.

Celestia looked about the clean room; it was all coming together now. Larms had attacked Noble Era. He was the mastermind behind the attack. Of course, there was still the remote chance that it was all a fabrication, but that chance was decreasing by the second. She'd gotten nearly everything she needed from this memory. Now all that was left was to find out when it happened.

There was a distant thunk of arrow on hay. Era looked over to the window. He trotted up to it, pushing it open. Celestia followed behind, glancing over his shoulder.

Gareth stood out in the courtyard, lowering his arrow-arm, smiling at the target. Gleaming Horizon walked down from the gazebo, cheering him on. She held up a scroll, asking Gareth something. He nodded, gesturing her over.

Era hummed in thought, glancing up to the shelf next to the window. There was a collection of ambassador's pills sitting on the first shelf. "Perhaps I have a way of speeding up the process—"

Suddenly, everything went black.

Something was rubbing Celestia's withers. Her eyes flittered open. She was on the balcony again. The cool of the night raked through her fur.

"Ma'am, please, you must wake up," the Colonel said.

"Colonel?" Celestia mumbled, gently pushing his forehooves away. "What is happening? What's wrong?"

"Ma'am." The Colonel's face turned severe. "The Nobility of Canterlot demand your attendance."

"Who… which house?"

"All of them."