If Fine says it happened, then it happened. That doesn’t make it any easier to believe. One pony has achieved the impossible. A half-dead pony can do it. Why not a few healthy, driven, perfectly alive ones do the same?

Maybe that’s what he thinks. Personally, I think he’s nuts.

I’ll do what he wants though. Shouldn’t be hard. If it works I can safely say I did something good for Equestria. It won’t, but even hopeless bastards like myself can dream a little. He thinks that one shattered pony breaking out of Equestria’s greatest prison is a sign of changes in the near future. Stupid.

Still

I gotta admit, when I heard that the Gates had opened, if only for a minute, I felt a chill run down my spine. Who knows? I’ve been wrong before.

—Cruelles Caballeron, Book of Shadows XLVIII,
June 8, 1005
Excerpt from personal diaries, translated from Palabras del Sur, June 16, 1007

Caballeron always thought he’d taken good care of himself, at least physically. How could a pony who made a living roaming the wide world and exploring ancient tombs not be in good health? So when he felt a dull ache in his knees, he began to worry if perhaps he was getting too old for this kind of life.

Not that he’d ever admit to it out loud, of course. Fleur would never let him hear the end of it. Vinyl would probably poke fun at him for it too. Not that he could blame them, considering he was even older than Fine Crime by a few years. That stallion never seemed to slow down for anything, and Caballeron had no intention of being the first in the Order to show weakness.

That didn’t make climbing up dozens of storeys any easier. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, neck and flanks as he climbed step after curving step. Just how high did this accursed tower go? He couldn’t fathom why anypony would build one so high, especially in an age when elevators hadn’t been developed yet. What in the wide world of Equestria had Canterlot’s architects been thinking?

He passed by numerous doors on his way up the circular staircase. They all looked identical, so he was relieved when he spotted Fine Crime sitting patiently next to one a couple storeys up. “I hope you have a good reason for making me come all the way up here, Fine.”

Fine leaned over the edge of the hollow stairwell. “What’s the matter, Caballeron? I thought you liked exercise.”

“Maybe when it’s getting me to a goal,” he countered, though without any force to his tone. “Something tells me you’re just gonna talk to me, which is hardly the same.”

“Whiner.”

“Drill sergeant.”

“Pansy.”

“Mud pony.”

Fine chuckled as Caballeron at last reached his level. “Your attacks are weak, old stud.”

“Would you prefer I insulted you in my native language?” Only now did Caballeron notice the thick tome balanced on Fine’s back. “What’s that?”

“No, and it’s a book.” Fine turned to open the door next to them. “You know, square object, has pages, ponies read from them?”

“You’re in fine form today.”

“Puns with my name? Cheap.”

Now it was Caballeron who chuckled as he followed Fine inside. He hadn’t intended the pun, but he wasn’t about to say so. They entered a narrow hallway that circled around a perimeter. Walking along it, Caballeron soon realized the corridor probably surrounded a single, small room. “So what are we doing up here, really?”

The Mane Archon was all seriousness in an instant. “I’ve got a job for you. Something’s happened, something that hasn’t happened in several millennia. I think it’s a sign, and I want to be prepared.”

Caballeron rolled his eyes. A ‘sign’, was it? He knew better than to challenge the suggestion, but he also knew Fine had some rather fanciful ideas. Ideas like there being two Celestias, or that Princess Luna wasn’t an act put on by Nightmare Moon to fool innocent ponies into trusting her before breaking them like juicy bones between her fangs. And whatever this fanciful new thing was that Fine had uncovered, it undoubtedly meant trouble for him.

Still, Fine had been through some serious shit. Caballeron couldn’t blame him for being a little off. Knowing it was better to humor the stallion than openly criticize, he asked, “So what ‘sign’ happened that’s got you so interested?”

“Somepony escaped Tartarus.”

Caballeron tripped, barely managing to keep from face-planting on the hard stone floor. All his confidence washed away as the implications struck him with all their horror. “Y-you can’t be serious. Nopony escapes Tartarus!”

They stopped before a large iron door, on which was a small, closed window. Fine turned to Caballeron with his most ominous frown, which was more than enough to make even him hesitate. “Nopony until now. Twilight Sparkle is loose.”

Twilight Sparkle? “Celestia’s protégé?” A moment later, true understanding came to him. “You mean the supposed changeling that showed up two months ago.” At Fine’s raised eyebrow, he waved a dismissive hoof. “Don’t give me that look, obviously it wasn’t a changeling. They’ve been extinct for centuries.”

“You’d be amazed how many ponies bought the official story.” Fine sat, carefully levitating his book and setting it aside. “But regardless of what we think, the truth is evident: by some miracle, this Twilight doppleganger escaped. We believe it happened weeks ago.”

“So, what? You need somepony to go ‘take care’ of her?” Caballeron shrugged. “Have Surprise or Gulfstream do it. Isn’t this their kind of job?”

“We’re not killing her,” Fine corrected with a shake of his head. “I’ve managed to convince Celestia that there’s no point. She’s damaged enough as it is that there’s more misery in her continuing to live.”

“Okaaay.” Caballeron crossed his arms. “Then what’s the mission?”

“Artifact recovery. That’s your kind of job.” Raising a hoof to forestall any questions, Fine added, “But first, a little background.”

Of course. There was always background. Caballeron would rather just go where he needed to go, but he knew the Mane Archon wouldn’t let him get away that easily. It seemed a lengthy lecture was imminent. Suppressing his groan, Caballeron got as comfortable as he could on the rough stone before giving a begrudging nod of acceptance.

Fine returned the gesture, expression as serious as ever. “There’s a spell scroll hidden in the castle. I call it the Tartarus Scroll. According to Twenty-Seventh Book of Shadows, Celestia herself made it. The spell is extremely complex, far beyond my capacities, but the purpose is simple: to send a target directly to the deepest depths of Tartarus. One way.”

Caballeron whistled. “Now that’s a spell. Sounds like an instant win for whomever has it.”

“Exactly.” Fine sighed and closed his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine. “I’ve seen it. I watched when Celestia used it to send Governess Cadance to Tartarus at the end of the Crystal Rebellion. That was before I was the Mane Archon.”

A moment of silence passed. Fine didn’t open his eyes. His face began to pale and he started to squirm. At last his eyes popped open, and Caballeron was taken aback at the haunted look in them. The Mane Archon exhaled slowly, brushing his mane back with a hoof. “S-sorry. Bad memories.”

“Right.” What in Celestia’s name could make the toughest pony Caballeron knew react so badly? “I take it you want to use the scroll.”

“No.” Another shudder ran through Fine. “I saw an image of how Twilight looked after she left Tartarus. She’s… not as pretty as the one we know, and let’s leave it at that. Point is, if a creature that wrecked can escape, Celestia most certainly could too. The most we’d do is buy a few weeks of anarchy.”

Finally recovering from whatever had passed through his thoughts, Fine leveled Caballeron with his commanding gaze. “I want to destroy it. Unfortunately, that’s not something you can just ‘do’.”

Caballeron raised an eyebrow. “Why? It’s just paper.”

In response, Fine lit up his horn. The little window in the iron door snapped open, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet hall. “That’s why.”

Sensing the invitation, Caballeron went to the door. Flakes of ice and snow drifted out of the little window. The edges of it were gradually building up frost. Careful not to touch the undoubtedly freezing metal, he peered through. He was rewarded with a flash of icy blue eyes, eyes that were flying right at him! He jumped back with a grunt as something large and heavy slammed into the other side of the door.

A muzzle, long and pale blue, forced its way through the window. Sharp fangs like icicles snapped at him, and a high pitched, ghostly whinny filled the air. Caballeron stared open-mouthed at the creature struggling to get out, only its snarling muzzle visible in the small window. “What in Tartarus is that?”

“That,” Fine replied solemnly, “is a wendigo. One of four.”

Wendigo? In the castle? Now Caballeron had heard everything. “How the hay did they get in there?”

Fine sat by his side, looking up at the window with an expression as cold as the frost slowly spreading across the iron door. He didn’t flinch when the creature let out another howl. “According to the Sixth Book of Shadows, Celestia had the Archons capture these when they were newborns. She was a lot weaker than she is now, and thought she could train them to act as guard dogs.”

The image of almighty Celestia flying across the darkened skies with a quartet of wendigo surrounding her brought a fresh chill to Caballeron’s heart. “I take it she didn’t succeed.” He prayed she didn’t succeed.

“It turns out that wendigo are too wild and destructive. They never imprinted onto her, and proved untameable.” As the beast finally retreated back into the window, Fine used his magic to slam it closed once more. The motion sent flakes of ice drifting through the cool air. “But she found other uses. The wendigo are magically connected to a few things Celestia wants protected, things like the Tartarus Scroll. If anypony approaches those things, the wendigo will be teleported there. Of course, no training was needed to get them to attack on sight.”

Caballeron nodded numbly. “I… can see how that would be a problem.” He turned to Fine. “Would they also attack her?”

He shook his head. “One of the Mane Archons before me tried that. Celestia’s power by that point was too great; even the wendigo couldn’t harm her. The Mane Archon himself was killed by the creatures right after he freed them.”

Of course somepony would have already tried it. Letting out a disappointed snort, Caballeron turned away from the door and its wretched inhabitants. “Alright, I get the picture. You need some way to deal with the wendigo before you can get to and destroy that scroll. I’m guessing you have something in mind.”

On que, the book floated over to Fine, already opened and flipping pages. After a few seconds it stopped, and he moved it so Caballeron could see. “Do you recognize this?”

Peering at the pages, it didn’t take long for him to notice the three cross-sectional images depicting a rugged, crystalline object. His lips ticked up in a smile as a fresh eagerness bubbled within him. “It’s the Crystal Heart, the Crystal Empire’s most famed and glorious artifact. But it disappeared after Sombra was sent to Tartarus in the first century.”

“Not disappeared,” Fine corrected. “Shattered.”

“Oh.” So much for a chance at finding a true relic of ancient times. Caballeron sagged, his ears folding as he gazed longingly at the Heart. “That’s… Oh.”

Fine’s took the book back and peered at its pages. “The Crystal Heart was a love siphon, to put it simply. It would store any love that was channeled into it, and could later use that love energy to repel opposing forces: anger, hatred, fear, so on. Celestia sought to corrupt it after she annexed the Empire into Equestria. When it turned out to be incorruptible, she destroyed it instead.”

Groaning, Caballeron turned his eyes to the iron door once more. “What is the point of talking about a relic that doesn’t exist anymore?”

The book snapped closed, the sound echoing in the narrow corridor. “We could use the Crystal Heart to defeat the wendigo, or at least keep them at bay long enough to destroy the scroll.”

With a dull stare at him, Caballeron replied, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“The point, my pessimistic friend, is that the Crystal Heart isn’t some ancient relic born from the fires of creation.” Fine met Caballeron’s gaze with a solemn expression. “It was made. And it can be made again.”

“Made?” Caballeron’s ears perked at that. “How?”

Taking the book in both hooves, Fine offered it to the former archeologist. “That is what I want you to find out.”

Gingerly, he took the book, eyes never leaving Fine’s. “You want me, an entirely non-magical – no, magic-ignorant – earth pony, to try to recreate the Crystal Heart?” He’d have scoffed were it not for his boss’s dead serious stare. “Isn’t this a job for Fleur?”

“Celestia watches Fleur too closely,” Fine replied. “She knows about this, and may be able to lend you aid, but in general she needs to stay well away from it. If you must contact her for help, don’t use the gem network. Celestia has ways of getting into it. Face-to-face except under the most dire necessity.”

Caballeron shook his head. “I still don’t understand. What about Vinyl? Heck, what about you?”

Fine chuckled, a cold and lifeless sound. “You really think I could do this and not inform Celestia? Impossible. As to Vinyl, she’s got her hooves full with a long-term mission in Gallopea. Even if that wasn’t the case, it would be a bad idea to cancel her tour over there. Besides, this isn’t at all her area of expertise.”

He shrank under the arguments that he knew were fair and accurate. He thought about what was being asked of him, but it still seemed over his head. “And… Octavia? She’s far smarter than me. And more resourceful, and cool-headed and… heck, she’s got all the good traits I don’t. And then some.”

“No offense intended,” Fine replied with a lopsided, almost goofy smile, “but I am aware.” Recovering his stoic manner with a cough, he continued, “But Octavia’s got her own mission overseas, and at a critical juncture. Calling her back now for this would be suspicious.”

He reached up to press a hoof to Caballeron’s shoulder. “You’ve got the skills for this, Caballeron. Everything you need is available to you. All you’ve gotta do is make use of them. You’re more valuable than you give yourself credit for.”

With a snort, Caballeron pushed the hoof away. “Quit trying to butter me up.” Rubbing the dull cover of the book, he sighed. “I guess I have no choice, but I don’t think this will work. Do I at least have a starting point?”

“You do.” Fine’s horn flashed, producing a puff of smoke in the air between them. When it faded, a manila folder hovered in his red aura. He set the folder atop the book. “You’re going to the Crystal Empire. There’s a mage there by the name of Sunburst. He’s the world’s leading expert on magical artifacts, with special attention made to those of the Crystal Empire. If he doesn’t know what to do, he can at least point you in the right direction.”

With a nod, Caballeron tucked the folder between the pages of the book. “Is he a regular contact?”

Fine offered a dark smile. “Not that he knows it. He’s a goody four-hooves, so we enlisted his cooperation by more subdued means. You’ll find the information in the folder.”

This was definitely a task out of Caballeron’s league, but he understood that Fine had no other ponies available for the task. He supposed all he could do was his best. He stared at the book for a while, wondering just how hard this would be. Then it dawned upon him that this… meant something. He looked to Fine with wide eyes.

“You’re getting ready to make your move, aren’t you?”

Fine, who had been staring at the iron door, glanced at him as if he’d just said ice was cold. “I’m always getting ready to make my move.”

“No, I mean… soon.” Caballeron licked his lips, anticipation mixing with his uncertainty. “Something’s changed, something that you think gives you a real chance.”

At that, Fine looked to the floor with a furrowed brow. The pause between them was pregnant with Caballeron’s eagerness. The idea that Celestia could be defeated at all was a fool’s dream. And yet, if there was a chance it could happen within his lifetime…

Fine spoke quietly. “Twilight Sparkle, the one who escaped. Do you know who she is?”

He didn’t have to think on it. “No. I have no idea.” And little interest, for that matter.

Perhaps catching his disdain, Fine peered at him. “She’s the Unknown Princess.”

A blink. Another. “That’s impossible.”

“Celestia confirmed it.”

To that, Caballeron had only one thing to say. “Obviously, she’s lying.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Fine looked ahead, staring at nothing as he spoke. “When she first arrived, Celestia was anxious. Uncertain. Afraid. She knows that this… ‘broken’ Twilight is the real deal. Call me naïve if you must, even insane, but I don’t think her escape from Tartarus was by luck. Her existence means something, and I intend to keep a very close eye on her. If she is what Celestia believes her to be, then she might be the key the Archons have been waiting on all these centuries.”

Caballeron’s shoulders slumped. “You mean to tell me you’re preparing to risk everything because of the actions of some crippled doppleganger who happens to look like Celestia’s protégé?” When Fine offered only a wan smile, he shook his head. “You really are crazy.”

With the smallest of smirks, Fine nodded. “Maybe. Just maybe.”

He was going to get them all killed. Which, as far as Caballeron was concerned, was of no consequence. He’d forfeited his life three years ago when he murdered an innocent filly with his own two hooves. The others might have more concerns about the matter, but for him life was nothing more than a chance to get a shot at Celestia. If that meant following a crazy stallion in a suicide scheme, so be it.

“I’ll take the next train.” He set the book on his back and turned for the exit. “If I can get you your Heart, I will. But where are you going to get the love necessary to fill it in a bucked up world like this?”

Though he’d turned away, he could see Fine’s confident smile in his mind’s eye.

“Don’t worry, Caballeron. Love isn’t as uncommon a commodity as you might think.”