And so did the six call upon their tribes, and brought them to the green lands, and they did build for themselves a city, and this city they called Roam, for long had they wandered in the search of its foundations, and grand rose the walls of Roam, for ponies had then learned of Harmony, and were reliant upon one another.

And the tribes called upon their elders, and their leaders, and their sages, and met in a great council, and determined the rule of law, and separated right from wrong, and dispensed with duties and honors and titles as needed, and among them rose a Great Council, and this Council numbered six, though the Six who had led them south were by then in their dotage, and so refused the call to leadership.

And this Council was set above nine and ninety of their peers, to lead them in determining the path of Equestria, and to mete out justice and appraise the worth of their nation, and from these ranks were elected a new Council, this being once every three years, and those in the ranks of the peerage were likewise chosen by those they led to govern for them, and they did so with great wisdom and nobility.

And there was great prosperity among them, and no belly was left empty, no family unsheltered. They had among them mastery of the stars, and moon, and sun, and rain and wind and earth and stone and many things more, and these things they named and bent their wills to, and with them they wrought marvels, the likes of which have not been seen in many a year, and may never be seen again.

And the ponies of the three tribes, now one, were fruitful in their endeavors, and so they multiplied far in excess of their numbers as tribes, and spread across the great plains of their land, and met many diverse peoples, and traded and befriended and strove against them.

And for fully five centuries did the city of Roam hold sway over the north, and great were her peoples, for not just ponies counted themselves among her ranks, and mighty were her marvels, and she shone as a beacon of Harmony and enlightenment.

And then came upon her the most terrible of calamities, and it was named Discord.

“Enjoying the book?” a voice asked Serale, who looked up with a start.

Standing in front of her was a familiar face, sleepy green eyes peering out from beneath a mess of ringlets in purple and pink, framed by a coat of ivory white. The robe and belt Serale had seen her in when last she appeared was gone, replaced instead by sturdy boots and warm clothing, wool leggings and a jacket made of oiled cloth that looked both warm and excellent for keeping out snow and rain.

“Sorry,” Belle said with a sheepish grin. “You're more like your mother than I thought. You kind of go int your own little world when you read. How are you liking the book so far?”

Serale looked at her, then back to the book. “It's...curious,” she said hesitantly. “Some of the things I read in here don't match up with what I was told as a foal. I'd heard of Roam, of course, but I thought it was ruled by the Princesses, not a council of ponies.”

Belle tilted her head. “Does that make you uncomfortable?” she asked, her voice both curious and cautious.

Serale shook her head vigorously. “No!” she cried. “It's wonderful, it's exciting! It's proof that before the Sisters came along, ponykind was able to govern its own affairs. I can see why my history books are inaccurate, they can't have had much to go on. Celestia probably had most of the histories of Roam confiscated or burned.”

“You'd be surprised,” Belle replied. “Celestia's cannier than that. Most of the histories of Roam were lost after Discord's arrival. Well, the histories and most of the city, too. Anything else?”

Serale flicked the book back open, Her hoof indicating one passage. “This passage right here, the one that said ponies named the sun and the wind and such. Didn't they already have names for them? I've read the earlier passages, the ones about the time before Harmony was found. Surely they had written languages and spoken dialects as well. There's a thousand years of history before the founding of Roam.”

Belle chuckled. “Serale,” she said. “I'm surprised at you. What has Libra taught you about names and Names?”

Serale's eyes widened. “You mean they discovered the magical names of all of those things? But they'd need to know Runic, and that's older than pony civilization! That's… they'd need to be as old as the world! The goddesses were the ones who taught magical runic to ponies.”

“Both correct and not,” Belle said. “Ponies named things by using their inherent magic to manipulate them. They shaped magical runic, just as magical runic shaped their work. It's all about imposing your will on the world around you, Serale. That's the basis of magic. By measuring things like the earth and the stars, and using their will to manipulate them, ponies made the earth and stars able to be measured and manipulated.”

“But..” Serale said, thinking quickly. “But then, where do the goddesses fit into it all? Where does Discord?”

Belle smiled sadly. “Serale, magic is about will. But there's also an element of balance to the whole thing. By giving names to so many things, ponies inadvertently gave names to other things as well. More powerful and primal forces than water and air have always existed, and it was only a matter of time before they were made manifest.”

“So we're responsible for the goddesses?” Serale demanded. “And Discord? Are you saying that we brought this on ourselves, the millennia of rule and the release of the Shadow and...”

Belle's eyes flashed dangerously. “Don't say that name!” she hissed, suddenly fearful. “Especially not when reading this book. Didn't you listen to anything I told you? Hasn't Libra taught you anything about names? They have power, Serale. And certain things can have their attention drawn if you speak their names.”

Serale shrank back from Belle, suddenly fearful. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't realize. I'll be more careful in the future.”

Belle waved a hoof. “Make sure of it,” she said. “But that's not why I came. There's something you need to know about the book, and something you need to know about the history of your mother's Kingdom. I'd have let you know sooner, but you haven't been reading it as of late.”
“I've been busy,” Serale said, chastened. “Between classes and meeting with the nobles of my aunt's Court and Vino's duel...”

“Busy is fine,” Belle said. “But we haven't got much time. I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to tell you. Your mother didn't just set me to watch over the memory of the book, she set me to watch over you. And I just wanted to tell you not to freak out.”

“Freak out?” Serale said, confused. “Freak out about what?”

“You'll find out in a minute,” Belle said. “But I also wanted to let you know that I've been through what you're going to go through, and I know some things about Twilight, things that she might prefer ponies forget. But I've had to be careful about where I hid that knowledge. She's more than proficient at getting into your head, so I had to hide it, even from myself. I won't force you to look for what I've recorded, but I can give you a clue. You can find what I've hidden where three hooves meet.”

“What does that even mean?” Serale asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I'll explain everything,” Belle said, “But first you have to answer my question.”

Serale snorted in exasperation, one hoof scuffing the ground. “Fine,” she said. “Ask.”

“Where are you right now?”

The question echoed strangely in Serale's ears, and suddenly, everything was different. A world came to life around her, or, rather, she came to life in the world around her, which she realized she had been quite insensate to. As if she had woken from sleep, Serale stiffened suddenly, and her heart beat quickly in her chest.

A gust of air smacked her in the face, bitter and howling with wintry fury, and Serale cried out as she realized that she was standing on the edge of a precipice, overlooking the darkened waters of the lake by Cadance's Bower. Scrambling back from the ledge, she sat down rather suddenly, trying to take stock of her situation.

It was wrong, everything was wrong. She'd decided to start reading in her room in the manor, and it had been just after supper, just before she was to begin on her studies with Cobblestone. By her estimation, checking the stars and the moon which now hung low in the sky, she had lost nearly three hours of time. And somehow, she had ended up here, mere steps away from plunging into the lake and for all she knew, drowning while completely insensate.

Serale clutched at the pendant that rested on her breast, keeping its reassuring warmth close, and performed one of the few spells she knew by heart. With a sudden whoosh, a bright bolt of greenish energy shot from her horn, spiraling towards the sky, where it erupted into a half-dozen colors. A moment later, she could hear shouts from the manor behind her, and she turned to see lanterns erupting to life on the walls, some of them seeming to lift into the air, taken by pegasi on their way to investigate.

They needn't have bothered. There was a roar of wind, a rush of magic, and her aunt was by her side. Serale scarcely had time to draw breath before Cadance had drawn her into a tight embrace, wrapping her wings around her as she checked Serale over for injuries and signs of damage.

“Oh, thank Celestia,” she breathed. “Serale, where have you been? You're freezing cold! We've been searching for you for nearly two hours, Libra's been worried sick and your Guard have been turning the town inside out looking for you.”

Serale opened her mouth to speak before Cadance put a hoof up, forestalling conversation. “First things first,” she said. Her horn lit up, and Serale only barely realized that the scene around them had shifted, Cadance having brought them both to the manor, into what must have been her personal chambers.

A bell chimed, seemingly from nowhere, and Serale found herself divested of her pendant and gently lifted by her aunt, who pulled her through the air into the next room, which appeared to contain an impressively sized bath full of steaming water. Cadance gently lowered her into the water, and Serale's entire body erupted into pins and needles. She hadn't realized how cold she was, and yet she knew that by rights, she should have been much colder.

There was the sound of hooves on the stone of the bathroom floor, and a maid, an earth pony dressed in a simple blue tunic, bowed her head before Cadance.

“Inform the guards that I've found her,” Cadance said. “Make sure word gets to Libra and Captain Fidelis, and tell them both that they can await us in my study.”

The earth pony bowed once more without a word, and nearly as quietly as she had come, departed the bath, leaving them both alone.

“Now,” Cadance said quietly. “I know you might be worried about what you're going to say to Libra. Would you mind telling me why you decided to sneak off to the lake without warm clothing or letting any of your guards know? Or my guards, for that matter?”

Serale struggled to come up with an explanation for what had happened. “I...” she stammered, “I...that is...”

Cadance produced a pitcher, seemingly from nowhere, and filled it from the bath, pouring it over Serale's hair and letting it trickle down her neck and shoulders. “Serale,” she said calmly, “I found you alone and frightened near the edge of a cliff where several of my ponies have decided to end their own lives. Are you alright? Were you going to...”

“No!” Serale exclaimed. “No, I swear I wasn't!”

“Then what were you doing out there?” There was no accusation in the question, no insistence on an uncomfortable answer. It was simple, and direct, and exactly what Serale needed.

Serale sighed, as her aunt picked up a bottle of scented soap from a nearby shelf, hooves working it into her mane as she waited for an explanation. “I...I just wanted to practice.”

“Your magic?” Cadance said. “But you could practice that here, with Libra or Cobblestone.”

Serale shook her head. “Not like I wanted to,” she said. “I wanted to practice without the pendant, I wanted to see if I could use the ley lines like I did before. But I didn't want to do it in the Manor, so...”

“You went outside, just in case you lost control?” Cadance offered. Serale nodded her head as she picked up the pitcher once again, rinsing the suds from her mane. Cadance smiled. “Your mother's daughter, through and through. You just found your magic after sixteen years of waiting, and you want to stretch your limits already.”

“I know I was supposed to let the guards know,” Serale said, improvising as quickly as she could. “I honestly didn't think I'd be gone that long. I suppose I just lost track of time, feeling around for the lines.”

Another soap was added to the water, and this time, Cadance sent it swirling through the water with a bit of effortless magic, generating a current from still water. The scent of lilies filled the air. “You're extremely lucky,” she said. “If you'd managed to find the ley lines in this area, you might have gotten seriously hurt. I was only ever able to use them once, and I very nearly froze to death as a result.”

“When was that?” Serale asked.

“During the war,” Cadance said simply. “I used the ley lines to transport troops to the Everfree. Granted, the Windigoes were more Discord's fault than the lines', but they followed a strong gelid line to me. It's why there are such harsh winters here.”

Serale was once again reminded that her favorite aunt had once tried her very hardest to kill her mother, and reflected on the difference four hundred years could make. The glory that was Roam had lasted only a century longer than her mother's Kingdom had endured, and in that time, they had apparently found the names of many things in Creation. Would her mother's Kingdom do any better?

So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she didn't hear her aunt speak to her until the second time she had said her name.

“Serale?” Cadance asked. “Did you find anything while you were outside?”

Only water, Serale meant to say. What came out was something entirely different. “Meyapukan”.

As if gravity had reversed itself, every drop of water in the bath erupted towards the ceiling without the slightest hint of warning before, just as suddenly as it had gone up, it fell back into the bath, thoroughly soaking her, Cadance, the floor, and just about every other thing in the room. There was a moment of shocked silence, broken only by the dripping of water.

“Well then,” Cadance said. “I...well.”

“Serale,” Libra said, as the freshly-dried unicorn brought a spoonful of soup to her mouth. “I'm not mad at you for what happened, but there's something you're not telling us.”

Captain Fidelis nodded in agreement. “Milady, you are entitled to your secrets. But if you don't share important information with us, we cannot protect you with anywhere near our full effectiveness.”

Serale set down her spoon with a delicate click, hoof going to the pendant around her neck, before she addressed the captain. “Captain, I have given you all of the information you need to know. Today I decided to practice using my magic without my pendant, as I felt that perhaps I had learned enough to divest myself of it. However, I lost track of time while trying to access ley lines. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, and in the future, I will endeavor to alert the guards when I try again.”

Fidelis looked like he had swallowed a whole lemon, but otherwise said nothing. Libra, however, was not finished, nor was she cowed by her charge's station. “That's all well and good,” she said, “But you discovering the runic incantation for water in the bath still needs to be addressed.”

“It's possible she discovered it when she reached for the ley, and simply didn't recall,” Cadance said. “The two are closely tied, after all. Though I still don't understand why you don't want a Cleric to look at you, Serale. You might have discovered other names while you were out there.”

“The day I let one of your Clerics near her is the day my head lies separate from its shoulders,” Libra snapped.

Cadance met her angry gaze levelly. “That could be arranged.”

“Not as easily as you think,” Libra said, her horn lighting up as she rose to her hooves defensively.

“Enough,” Serale said. It did not quite carry the power that it did when her mother spoke, but there was enough force and sternness behind it to cause the assembled ponies to take note. “Libra, there won't be a need for violence, nor, aunt Cadance, will there be a need for a Cleric. We've already established that the name I learned doesn't have any power behind it, so long as I wear this pendant.”

She gestured to the goblet that rested on the table, still full from the experiment earlier. “I made several mistakes tonight, and we've taken steps to ensure they won't be repeated. However, it is late, and I am tired. We can discuss this in the morning after we've finished training.” Her tone brooked no argument, and even Cadance was struck by how much she and her mother could sound alike.

Libra, horn extinguished, sank back down onto her haunches. She sighed, suddenly looking years older. “No training tomorrow,” she said. “You might think you're fine, Lady Serale, but I know stress when I see it. Tomorrow, you're taking time off. Pass it along to Cobblestone as well. I will see you both at lunch, I have a missive to write tomorrow morning.”

There was a rush of magenta light, and she was gone, leaving only Captain Fidelis and Cadance in the room with Serale. She took a small sip of water from the goblet. “Captain, how is Vino's training coming along, in your opinion?”

Fidelis stiffened, eyes flicking involuntarily towards Cadance. “I would prefer not to say, Milady,” he muttered. “Not here, at least.”

Cadance rolled her eyes, and turned to her goddaughter. “Serale, if you wish to speak to me in the morning, I'll be available. The guards outside will see you to your room if you request them to do so.” With a flash of blue, she, too, vanished.

Fidelis relaxed, though Serale could still see the tension in his shoulders, which had not left since they arrived at the Dawn Court. “I'll be honest, Milady,” he said. “The boy is good. Plenty of natural talent. And I don't know what caused the Sunborn to tutor him, but at least he's taken the lessons to heart. In the past weeks, he's learned tricks that would take most ponies a year or more to master. But I've seen Cadance's pet Captain practicing as well.”

He sighed. “If Vino doesn't win the duel, and win it quickly,” he said, “The odds aren't in his favor. Captain Brightsteel has years of experience in duels and mastery of his blade. Vino Hedera's only hope is that he can do something unexpected and disarm him before the Captain's technique can come into play.”

Serale was quiet for a moment. “I see.”

“Milady,” Fidelis said quickly, “Surely there has to be some way to get Vino out of this duel. You can order him not to fight, or appeal to Princess Cadance, or...”

“There is no way,” Serale said, each word sharp as a knife. “I've tried. Cadance's lands practice the old laws of chivalry. Vino would be guilty of breaking the law if he, as a knight, didn't show up to the challenge he issued when he struck the Captain. I could order him back to Starfall, but then we would all be guilty of aiding a fugitive. I could show up in a week with all of my Guards in tow, but that would be tantamount to war, and it would mean the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, if it came to that.”

“Then my best spy has a week to live,” Fidelis said. “Unless you can think of a way to avert the duel.”

Serale pondered, silently seething. She hated this, hated the rules and laws of her aunt's Court. She hated Vino for being so damned honorable, hated Captain Brightsteel for his arrogant disregard for life, and hated that she was unable to find any loophole in the law to negate this stupid duel.

She blinked. Perhaps, she thought, the answer didn't lie in a loophole, or indeed in the law at all. The answer, perhaps, lay outside of both of those things.

“We cheat,” she said. “We cheat as hard and as subtly as we can. We use every dirty trick in the book to ensure that Vino walks away the victor.”

Fidelis shook his head. “Vino will never willingly cheat. He's his father's son, an honorable soldier. It would go against everything he stands for.”

“Then he never has to know. There has to be a spell, or a potion, or something to give him an edge. If it's discovered after the fact, then it's my fault. Cadance won't dare charge me with anything. If it isn't discovered, then it never has to be mentioned. Is there any way you know to improve Vino's chances?”

Fidelis nodded his head, slowly at first, thoughtfully, but then with increased vigor. “There might just be a way,” he said. “I'll look into things on my end. You look into things on yours. We may save him yet.”

“We just might,” Serale replied. She smiled, seeing a solution to the damnable problem of Vino's duel for the first time in almost a month.

Serale finally allowed herself to relax as the door shut behind her, leaving her alone for the first time in hours. She allowed herself a long, shuddering breath as she levitated the nightdress from its place by her bed, a long flannel thing that was soft as a cloud and twice as warm, or so the pegasus who had given it to her had claimed. Pulling it haphazardly over her head, she gave her mane a shake as she emerged from the other side, doing up the buttons. She sniffed, her eyes suddenly watering, and was glad to be alone. She needed time to process what had happened, what she had done to herself by reading that damned book. How had she gone from her room to the cliff overlooking the lake? Was she walked there like some sort of puppet, or was she sent there by magic? What had happened in the hours since she had gone? Why did she suddenly know runic? Questions whirled in her mind like a hurricane, buffeting her back and forth, and Serale clutched at her head and moaned.

There was a knock at the door, and Serale's head whipped up as she attempted to pull herself together. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath. “Coming!” she called.

She opened the door, expecting a maid or a guard, and so was surprised when she saw Cobblestone standing there, her eyes red with exhaustion or tears, possibly both, her face drawn and pale, and trembling slightly with anger or fear.

“There you are!” she exclaimed angrily. “What the buck happened? You were supposed to meet me for studying and instead you went off to...to...” She trailed off, noticing the tears in Serale's eyes. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, gods. What happened?”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and Serale let Cobblestone simply steer her towards the bed, where they both sat, as Serale began to cry in earnest, at first with quiet sobs, and then, as Cobblestone drew her in tight, with bigger and bigger hiccuping cries of fear and stress. They said nothing, simply rocking back and forth, while Cobblestone ran a hoof along her back and waited patiently for Serale to cry herself out.

It took the better part of half an hour before Serale was anything approaching coherent, and her sobs trailed away into the occasional shudder, her face and nose wet with tears. Cobblestone patted her on the back. “Are you okay?” she asked. “All I heard was that you wandered off to a cliff somewhere. We've all been worried for you. Vino especially, he was frantic.”

The mention of Vino was nearly enough to send Serale over the edge once again, as she gave a gasping, hiccuping sigh of a sob. But tears wouldn't come, and after a moment, she straightened up so see Cobblestone's horn lit blue, as a small cup filled with water floated over from the tap in her bathroom. Gently, she passed it to Serale. “Small sips,” she said. “Talk when you want to.”

Serale did as she was told, sipping at the water. “I c-can't,” she stammered. “It's just t-t-too much, and I can't do it all...”

“Serale,” Cobblestone said. “Look at me. I'm your friend. You can tell me any damn thing, and I won't go anywhere or tell anypony.”

Serale shook her head, giving a little hiccup. “N-no,” she got out. “I d-don't...”

Cobblestone sighed. “That's fine,” she said. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I can just stay here until you calm down.”

Serale took a deep breath. She sipped at her water, and as she thought, and stared numbly at the wall, she realized that Cobblestone hadn't pressed the issue, hadn't done anything incredibly special, and yet, the simple gesture of getting a glass of water and holding her hair back while she cried like a foal somehow meant more to her than any bath or meal or offer of help. She knew, instinctively, that Cobblestone would no sooner breathe a word of what she told her here than she would saw her own horn off.

“Okay,” Serale said. “Okay. I'm..I'm going to tell you something. But you have to swear not to tell anypony.”

Cobblestone nodded. “Thief's honor,” she said. “I won't tell a soul.”

Haltingly at first, painfully, but becoming easier the more she spoke, Serale told Cobblestone everything. The strange dream, the book she carried in her head, the lost time and the cryptic message Belle had given her, the possibility that there was something about the Kingdom her mother didn't want known, the name she had learned, even her fears about Vino and the duel, it all came out in a jumble.

Cobblestone listened attentively, interrupting only to ask clarification on a few key points, and once to refill Serale's glass of water, which she continued to sip as she spoke. At last, when it was all finished, Cobblestone was quiet, her eyes flicking back and forth as she processed it all, and then she spoke.

“It sounds like whoever or whatever Belle is, she got into your head. I would know. I've had things in my head before. But I agree, you can't go to a Cleric. Every one of them here reports straight to Cadance.”

“I don't know what to do!” Serale said. “Cobblestone, I lost three hours of time! I could have gone anywhere, done anything! Aether knows what I might have done in three hours!”

Cobblestone thought hard, and then she turned to look Serale in the eye. “I have a solution,” she said. “You might not like it.”

“If you have a solution, I'll take it,” Serale said.

Cobblestone blew air through her nose. “You swear you won't tell Libra or anypony a thing about this, right?”

Serale nodded. “I swear, on my House and on my horn.”

“I've been practicing my soulgazing,” Cobblestone said. “Only a little!” she said hurriedly, upon seeing Serale's face, “And not on anypony in particular! I've just been kind of, y'know, letting the barrier down and bringing it back up. I've gotten pretty good at it, too. It's like opening and closing another set of eyelids. I can only do it at night, too, on account of taking Dragon's Kiss in the mornings.”

“Look,” she continued, “I'm not saying it'll be perfect. But I can soulgaze you, and if there's anything riding piggyback in your head, I'll notice it. I guess that ponies that are being controlled by something else look different, at least, that's what your mother said.”

Serale weighed the risks in her mind. One one hoof, she didn't have many options, and the thought of being possessed by something was unacceptable. On the other, she had heard about the condition some of the ponies in the prison had been after Cobblestone had reached out to them with her magic. She could end up incapacitated, or worse, a vegetable. In the end, the choice was clear.

“I trust you,” Serale said. “I'll do it.”

Cobblestone nodded. “It'd be best if you were lying or sitting down,” she said, as she drew up a chair by the bedside and sat down. Serale lay back in her bad as she continued. “If I notice anything going wrong, I'll stop as soon as I can. In theory, this should be pretty easy.”

“Do I need to do anything?” Serale asked. “Use magic or...”

“No,” Cobblestone said. “In fact, avoid doing that if you can. I don't know if magic would affect anything, but it's best to be safe.”

“Right,” Serale said. As an afterthought, she took her pendant off.

“What are you doing?” Cobblestone asked, confused. “Don't you need that?”

Serale laid it on her bedside table. “Some of us have better impulse control than others,” she teased gently. “I'll be fine. There shouldn't be anything wrong unless I reach for my magic, which I know I won't do.”

Cobblestone nodded and closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Alright. I'd...I'd hold onto something. Are you ready?”

Serale grasped the edge of the bed tightly, screwing her eyes shut. “Ready,” she said tersely.

“Here I go,” Cobblestone said. “Starting...now.”

The world spun apart, falling into blackness, and suddenly, Serale could see stars in a hundred different colors, stretching up into the infinite above her. She floated, unaware of time or space, for what seemed like an eternity, and then suddenly, with a rush of color, she became aware of another presence very close to her.

A flame, a bright and beautiful blue flame, reached for her. Serale attempted to extend a hoof, but noted without any sort of panic that she appeared to exist only as a roaring green fire herself. Curious, she attempted to move herself, but was cut short when she noticed that doing so caused lines to flicker into life around her, comprised of strange colored flames themselves, though this fire flowed in rivers instead of leaping freely, like fire was wont to do.

Serale looked upstream, along these rivers of fire, and was suddenly and surely seized by the notion that, far away, there existed a source for the great rivers of flame that she saw streaming around her. She wanted to reach for that source, draw herself to it, but before she could, a spark jumped from the blue flame to her, and she was pulled back.

It tunneled into her, that spark of blue, and Serale shuddered with surprise at the sense of familiarity she felt emanating from it. Strange memories that were not her own flickered into her mind's eye, and likewise, a few sparks of green made their way back into the blue conflagration beside her.

A young mare with a dirty mane smiled at her from beneath a too-large, ragged cloak. An apartment, richly appointed, was promising her ill-gotten riches, riches she could sell to sate the hunger in her belly. A face, soft and warm and misty with faded memory, smiled at her, and she experienced such love and joy that she wept with happiness. A scarred face, milky white eyes peering over night-black hair, grinned as black flames licked at her coat…

There was a sudden terrific bang, a sense of vague nausea, and the impression of soap and candy floss, and Serale's world went dark.

Serale woke up with a start, at the same time as Cobblestone. They both looked at each other, and a strange sort of understanding passed between them.

“That was...” Cobblestone said.

“Beautiful,” Serale finished. “That was beautiful! Goodness, is that what it's like for you every time?”

Cobblestone shrugged. “The part where I see rivers of fire and swap memories with a friend doesn't usually happen,” she said. “Who's Ship's Captain Fairview?”

Serale blushed. “Nopony you need to know about,” she said. A memory, fading rapidly but still her own for the moment, flashed unbidden in front of her eyes. “Nightshade,” she said.

Cobblestone averted her eyes. “So I still have nightmares,” she said. “It's nothing.”

“Cobblestone, it is not nothing,” Serale said firmly. “Every time we've practiced with a sword for the past month, you've been scared out of your wits, because the last time you used a sword you got set on fire. You're suffering from shock, Cobblestone. That's serious stuff, you need to see a Cleric.”

“I'm fine,” Cobblestone said stubbornly. “And besides, if I go to a Cleric, they might find out about your book.”

Serale snorted in exasperation. “There's not a Cleric alive who can see anything you don't want them to see, especially since you're training as a mage. But if you don't get to a Cleric, this isn't going to get better. Mages can't let their emotions get the better of them, Cobblestone. This is serious.”

“Not as serious as losing three hours of time,” Cobblestone retorted. Serale shrunk back, stung by the comment. Cobblestone slumped. “I'm sorry. That was unfair of me. You were just trying to help, you don't deserve that.”

“So...” Serale offered, “How am I? Did you find anything?”

Cobblestone shook her head no. “Whatever Belle is, she isn't in your head. I think I have a solution, though. When you want to read that book, let me know. I'll keep an eye on you, and if something happens and you wander off, I'll come along to make sure you don't get into trouble.”

“What if I do get into trouble?” Serale asked. “Like I said, I don't know what I do when I'm reading that book.”
Cobblestone shrugged. “I'll just reach out with a soulgaze and give you a good shock,” she said. “It'd be hard to do some kind of mental magic when I'm tugging on you.”

Serale felt a smile crack her face, a desperately needed one. “I suppose that'd work just as well as anything,” she said. “And what about you? Will you at least let Libra know? Even if you don't want to see a Cleric, she might excuse you from practicing with the sword.”

Cobblestone opened her mouth, closed it again, grimaced, and then spoke. “Fine,” she said. “I'll talk to Libra tomorrow morning.”

“You mean tomorrow afternoon,” Serale said, her smile widening. “We've been given the day off.”

Cobblestone's eyes lit up. “The whole day?” she demanded.

Serale nodded. “We can finally get more than six hours of sleep,” she said.

“A whole day,” Cobblestone said, awestruck. “What do you want to do with it? I've been dying for something to do here.”

Serale's smile took a turn for the wicked. “Tomorrow, you and I are going into town,” she said. “Dawndale is famous for its beauty and elegance, and you're going to get some things that are beautiful and elegant whether you want to or not.”

Cobblestone's expression turned from one of excitement to one of faint horror as she realized that she had volunteered herself for a day of manecutting, hooficuring, perfuming, and dress shopping. “I'm sorry I asked.”