“Shining is the Land's light of justice.”
Answers from Final Fantasy XIV.

Canterlot, Equestria Harmonia. 8th May, Year 3 Era Harmonia.

The city of Canterlot seemed colder this morning. There were whispers floating around, talk of the coming of different representatives of different nations and peoples, trickling down from the halls of Canterlot Palace to the streets of the city itself. There was a mood in the city, one of apprehension that couldn’t be shaken.

Something big was coming.

Ironic, then, that though she knew very well that something was coming, and had indeed seen more glimpses of that something than any other pony or other being in this city, Twilight Sparkle didn’t feel that apprehension in the slightest right now. Indeed, all she could feel was a sense of… well, mild intellectual aggravation, really.

She was walking through the streets, reading some notes she had received that morning. She frowned at the scribbles and notes that Professor Trotsworth had made about Alexander Reiner’s runes: his hoofwriting had never been the neatest, but it was more the content of his notes that concerned her.

Some of these are sub-Zebrican runes, but it seems more like they are precursors to that language rather than the other way around. They share certain traits with more ancient symbols discovered in ruins in various different lands on the sub-Equusite continent, which suggests that many of them predate these civilisations as well. I’ll consult with Professor Nexus when he gets back from his time with the Zebra historical council and see if he shares my perspective on the matter.

“Alright,” Twilight said to herself, still frowning. “So these runes are old. But where would they have come from?” She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe a precursor civilisation…?”

It was yet another question, on top of questions, on top of more questions. The only consolation that Twilight had was that the human – Alex Reiner – was awake. That meant that he could answer more of their questions and better illustrate what was going on. Then, of course, there was what would come after.

If they were to go to war… the word itself still made Twilight feel cold. But if they were, if it was really happening, then they needed to be ready.

“Would you like a copy of the Canterlot Times, ma’am?”

Twilight blinked, looking up from her thoughts. A Unicorn mare with a short black mane with green highlights and a navy colored coat stood, she had a rather odd looking overcoat that had a bandana tied around her foreleg and covered the rest of her. There was a stack of newspapers suspended in magic next to her. She was waving a copy of one newspaper at her, smiling vacantly.

“Oh, uh…” Twilight didn’t usually buy newspapers. Actually, she considered them something of a waste of paper. Still, given the uncertainty of the days ahead, it might be nice to get a sense of where the city of Canterlot was right now. “Give me a moment…”

She reached inside her saddlebag, but when she looked up, the mare was gone. Twilight blinked again, frowning – there was no sign of her save for the newspaper on a nearby table. There was no sign of the strange mare anywhere in sight.

How odd, she thought, picking up the paper and putting it in her saddlebag idly and thinking no more of it for the time being.

“She did what?”

Alexander Reiner winced at the high pitched sound, and for a moment Lyra regretted the volume of her shouting. But she couldn’t help it – every time she thought she had a handle on what was going on in Alex’s world, he said something else and she felt completely out of her depth once again.

“She wiped out the changelings,” Alex repeated matter-of-factly. “They’re mostly gone now, or else in hiding.”

“I…” Lyra didn’t know what to say. Her memories of the royal wedding and Chrysalis’ invasion of Canterlot were, at best, fuzzy (thank you Queen Chrysalis for that) but she knew it had been a terrifying moment for Canterlot and Equestria as a whole. Even after that horror, however, she would never have wanted the Changelings exterminated.

“It fitted with the Equestrian mood at the time,” Alex said. “The Changeling Purges happened in the wake of a massive upsurge in national paranoia after Canterlot.”

“I remember that,” Lyra said vaguely, “but Celestia gave speeches that calmed that talk down.”

Alex laughed . “Well, not in the Equestria we know.”

His mirthful expression faded and he let out a deep sigh. Lyra wondered for a long moment what he was thinking about.

“The purges were brutal,” he finally said. “I’ve… I’ve seen a few images. Nothing too ‘off-message’, of course, the Empire wouldn’t want any of its citizens to feel sorry for the ‘bugs’, but still.”

“That sounds… horrible,” Lyra said, frowning.

“It was. It was so horrible that it almost broke Equestria in two,” Alex replied. “There was already talk, supposedly, about how Equestria had gone too far, but of course the war against Sombra happened immediately after that, and somehow a war against a magical dark lord tends to make ponies rethink their priorities. Celestia’s overly zealous campaign against the Changelings was forgotten when she led ponies to victory against Sombra’s corrupted Crystal Empire.”

“Almost sounds like they were better off fighting that enemy…” Lyra murmured. At Alex’s bemused expression, she shook her head. “They thought they were fighting a just conflict then. Sombra… I don’t think anypony could argue that he wasn’t pure evil.”

“Maybe,” Alex said. “But with the things I’ve heard… perhaps they’d have been better off dying then.”

Lyra shook her head. “Sweet Celestia… how did it come to this?” She winced slightly even as the words left her mouth. “Sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

“Using her name you mean?” Alex asked.

Lyra nodded solemnly.

“Hey, I can’t police your language,” the human said, smirking. “Besides – your Celestia’s alright.”

“I’m glad to hear that at least,” a new voice said from the door.

Princess Celestia was standing by the doorway, a smile on her face.

“Princess!” Lyra said. “I’m sorry, we didn’t see you there!”

“It’s quite alright,” Celestia said quietly. She turned to Alex. “Alexander Reiner.”

“Princess,” he greeted. Lyra didn’t know whether she imagined the slight edge still in his voice – he couldn’t imagine that seeing her, the spitting image of his enemy, had become all that easier. “How is everything?”

“We are waiting now for the arrival of the delegates summoned by the Concordat – they should all be arriving within the next few hours,” Celestia said, inclining her head respectfully. “How goes your work?”

“We’ve covered most of the basics of the war now, ma’am,” Alex replied, smiling at her. “I should be able to get your commanders up to speed, and brief you on some things you need to tell your people as well.”

“Good, that will be useful,” Celestia said, nodding thoughtfully. “In the meantime, we have received brief word from Luna, Galatea and Discord.”

“Word?” Alex repeated. “Good news?”

“They have made contact, albeit as I said, only briefly,” Celestia replied. “They arrived safely – though they spoke of a battle…”

“A battle?” Alex repeated, frowning. “Are they alright?”

“They did not tell me otherwise,” Celestia said, a look of concern on her face, “but they intend on sending a party through soon – Luna herself, as well as representatives of your PHL and UNAC. I suspect we will learn the full story then.”

Alex took a deep breath. “Good. That’s… that’s good.” He frowned slightly. “And Galatea and Discord? Will they be coming back?”

“Discord is powering the portal,” Celestia said softly. “Until a means can be found to do so without him, he is now our only means of travel between the two worlds, and so must remain there for the moment. As for Galatea…” She frowned, whether in concern or consternation, Lyra couldn’t tell. “She has sent a message saying that she will arrive another time. Apparently she still has work to accomplish on your world.”

“That… sounds kinda really ominous,” Lyra said quietly.

“I agree,” Celestia nodded, “but we are faced with a difficult task ahead. From what we have discussed, there is much her counterpart did not tell her… or did not know.”

“Well, while she’s doing that, I can debrief my troops,” Alex said. “Let them know we’ll have help incoming.”

“Indeed,” Celestia said. “I’ve drawn up a list of formations to send through. There are some… concerns.”

Alex laughed. “Aren’t there always?”

Celestia nodded. “A war is not an easy thing to wage. Even at the preparation stage.”

“I might be able to help,” Alex suggested. “I do know a bit.”

Celestia smiled cordially. “Unfortunately, the chief concerns we have are related to supplies and organisation, and those nopony – and no being – can solve easily.”

Alex’s expression crumpled into a scowl. “Ah, yeah. Supply SNAFU. I’m familiar.”

“We’ve been at peace for so long,” Lyra said quietly. “I can’t even really begin to imagine Equestria at war.”

“Many cannot,” Celestia said. “That is half the problem. We have not been on a war footing for a long time, and there is concern that we may not be able to assemble a sufficient fighting force to assist your people adequately. From what you have told us, our enemy has an advanced military economy – doubtless more ships, more weapons, more soldiers.”

“That’s true,” Alex said quietly. “But any help is more than nothing.”

“But isn’t that why we called for the other nations?” Lyra asked. “To get their help?”

“That is one reason, yes,” Celestia said, nodding slowly. “At the very least, we can ask, though asking grants us no guarantees of success.”

“That much is true, unfortunately,” Alex said quietly.

“But that is not the only reason to bring them here,” Celestia said quietly. “We must also warn them – the enemy has shown the ability to transport themselves from one world to another. Coming to this world may be difficult to achieve for them, but I cannot believe it is impossible.”

Alex paled, his skin turning almost ashen.

“Shit,” he whispered. “You’re right.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “Whether they will aid us or not, we must warn them of their own peril.”

“Won’t they…” Lyra began, but she trailed off.

“Won’t they what, Ms Heartstrings?” Celestia asked.

“I mean…” Lyra took a breath. “If this is another you, isn’t there a risk they’ll think it’s just you threatening them?”

Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. If they are inclined to believe the worst of me, and some are.” She smiled warmly. “That being said, I would like to hope that I’ve built up enough goodwill among the other races to negate that possibility.”

“That same goodwill probably accounts for why the other races on the Solar Empire’s Equus were so slow to react to her,” Alex said quietly.

Celestia’s smile faded. “If that is true… yes, it would.” She smiled again, though it seemed somewhat forced. “But as poor a happenstance as that was for them, the hope is that it will turn to our advantage here.”

Alex didn’t look convinced. If anything, he looked even more upset.

“I brought it here,” he whispered. “My war.”

Celestia brought a wing up and put it on Alex’s shoulder.

“Do not mistake me,” she said gently to him. “This will be a difficult task, and if the luxury of not fighting were somehow open to me, I would take it.” She scowled. “But to take that luxury now, knowing what I do? That would make me a coward. Worse. It would make me complicit in your people’s destruction.”

Her expression softened, and she smiled, in that motherly, reassuring way Lyra had seen her do so a few times around Twilight.

“We are your friends, Alexander Reiner,” she said, almost whispering. “Equestria’s coming to your world should have been a time of joy for all, my counterpart’s people and yours alike. It shouldn’t have heralded hatred or suffering.” She drew in a deep breath. “But we will make right what was done to you.”

Alex smiled, before shaking his head. “‘Indeed I am Saruman, one might almost say. Saruman as he should have been’.”

Celestia blinked, frowning. “I… don’t understand the reference.”

“Remind me to introduce you to the works of Tolkien one of these days,” Alex said, chuckling. “In the meantime, I have work to do, your highness, if I’m to prepare you for the war ahead.”

“We all have work to do,” Celestia agreed. “I may need to call upon you for aid when the delegates arrive.”

Alex nodded. “You can count on it, Princess.”

“This may be the most important question we ever ask,” Pinkie Pie said solemnly. Her expression was utterly serious, and she looked between the other ponies present.

Everyone stared at her. They were unaccustomed to Pinkie being this serious.

“The fates of several worlds may hang in the balance,” the party pony continued.

“What is it, Pinkie?” Twilight asked.

“Guys… do we do one ‘welcome to Canterlot party’ for all the guests that’re coming, or do we do them all each their own one?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“On the one hoof, not everyone has the same taste in parties, but on the other hoof, that’ll be so many parties to work with,” Pinkie said. Then, balancing on her left hindleg: “Buuuuuuuuut, it’s important that everyone’s happy, so…”

“It seems like a lot of work to have it for everyone,” Rarity said. “Why not look at each group and work from there?”

“You’re right, Rarity,” Pinkie said, hopping along on one hind hoof. “You know, I heard there’d be Griffons coming!”

She looked over to Rainbow Dash.

“Any advice, Dashie?”

Rainbow Dash was impassive.

“Dashie?”

“Personally, I’m still thinking about that tree,” Rainbow Dash said quietly.

Pinkie paused, as though contemplating the point. “Well… you know about the tree, right? If it was a warning, we know about it, and we’re not gonna be like that Pegasus unit that ignored it, are we?”

“Celestia knows Dash sure ain’t ignorin’ it,” Applejack muttered.

“You’re right, Pinkie,” Dash said, smiling. “We’re not ignoring it, so that’s gotta be a good sign.” Her smile widened. “Thanks.”

“Great!” Pinkie said. “Oh, which reminds me – do you think Vinyl will be free for this? She’s really good at international indie-techno.”

Before any of them could reply to that, there was a sudden blaring sound from outside their window. Twilight turned, her eyes widening.

“What the hay was that?!” Rainbow Dash hissed, covering her ears with her wings.

Twilight looked out of the window, motioning for the others to come and join her.

Flying above Canterlot Palace were a handful of airships of different designs – one of them was a large oak-built craft, carried on multiple large rotors. Another was a boxy metallic design held aloft by four glowing wings, that looked almost as though they were made of magic.

“A Griffon battleship,” Rainbow Dash whispered from next to Twilight, pointing to the oak ship. “Gilda once told me all about them. That’s Roak-Wood, hardest tree known on Equus.”

“And the other one?” Rarity asked.

“Kirin, I think,” Twilight whispered. “Their use of magic is almost as sophisticated and varied as ours.”

“All deference to our own magical skill, but I have never seen a pony-built craft like that,” Rarity said, pointing to the Kirin airship.

“It’s real serious, ain’t it,” Applejack said, sounding downcast.

“Oh no,” Pinkie Pie said, her eyes widening in horror. “AUDIBLE GASP!”

“What?” Twilight asked.

“I didn’t realise there’d be airship crews,” the party pony replied. “If I’d known that, I’d have prepared a ‘welcome to Equestria airship crews’ party! That’s totally different from the other kinds!”

“It is?” Fluttershy asked.

“Of course! I can’t bring candles onto an airship,” Pinkie said.

Twilight laughed. She couldn’t help it. Pinkie being Pinkie was just that normal, despite its randomness, that she felt lightened by it.

“Pinkie,” Twilight said, “You’re so random.”

“Actually, she’s not wrong,” Rainbow Dash pointed out. “It’d be a huge fire hazard.”

“Exactly,” Pinkie nodded. “Never doing that again. The dockmaster at Manehatten never forgave me.”

“Honestly, Pinkie,” Twilight said, “if that’s the worst of our problems in the next few days, I’ll be a happy mare.”

The honour guards of a half dozen different races were assembled in the courtyard of Canterlot Palace when Celestia came down, a full troop of Royal Guardsponies behind her. Celestia could see a squadron of Minotaurs, a platoon of Griffon Imperial Guard, a group of Reindeer (including a very familiar stag in a white-brimmed cloak), and even a pair of the Kirin’s famed Mekka flanking a squadron of their armoured guard and their Mikado, the Kirin-shaped machines standing easily double the height of the tallest Minotaur.

Only the Dragons and the Horses had failed to send any representatives, but Celestia hadn’t expected the Dragons to. They were fractious enough that any one representative from them might have been joined by a dozen others, each representing a different faction of their race. A fight between warring Dracons and their vassal-drakes was the last thing she wanted on Equestrian soil. The Horses were a different matter, but Celestia didn’t feel too worried about it yet. Just because most of the delegates had managed to arrive within hours of one another didn’t mean that they all would, and she had no doubt that she would be receiving a delegation from them soon enough.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” one of the Guardsponies, a nervous-looking Pegasus, said softly. “But, uh… are you sure you wouldn’t want me to fetch another troop? Or two?”

Celestia smiled gently at him. “What’s your name, Guardspony…?”

“Sentry, your highness, Flash Sentry, Sergeant,” the stallion replied. “I’m a recent transfer from the Eighteenth.”

“Of course,” Celestia smiled. “We shall be safe. These beings have come here under a flag of truce, and none dare break it. Not considering what called them here.”

“Even…” Sentry swallowed, before motioning at the Changelings. “Them?”

“‘Them’?” a cruel voice repeated mockingly. “Now, Princess, I can't believe you’d let your ponies de-equinise another so easily.”

A tall Changeling, with a green, stringy mane hanging from her head and cruel green eyes with a catlike pupil approached, a pair of burly grey changelings flanking her.

“Queen Chrysalis,” Celestia said, turning to look at her with an impassive expression.

“Celestia,” Queen Chrysalis said, smirking. “How nice to see you again.”

Celestia inclined her head. “I am surprised to see you here.”

“Other Queens chose to come,” Chrysalis said, “and I would not allow them to learn something to grant them an advantage over me, not when my place in our hierarchy is… where it is.”

This was an oblique reference to her and her hive’s standing in the Changeling hierarchy. Chrysalis had been the ‘Swarmarch’, the equivalent of a Changeling High Queen, for some time, but the recent battle of Canterlot had damaged her standing, and other Queens were rumoured to be moving against her.

“Besides,” Chrysalis added, grinning nastily. “You called for help. If only to know what would make you do that, I needed to be here.”

“I’m glad to oblige,” Celestia said coldly. She looked behind Chrysalis at the other members of the Changeling delegation. “I am… surprised, shall we say, that you would allow the other hives to join you for this… meeting.”

Chrysalis smiled tightly. “Indeed. But I am the representative of our race. Make no mistake, Princess.”

“Oh, believe me,” Celestia said, giving Chrysalis a small smile. “I am on guard against making any mistakes today.”

“Good to know,” Chrysalis said, inclining her head in a manner just shy of mocking. “Until the Concordat meets, Princess. It will be nice to sample Canterlot’s hospitality with my own face.”

With that, she trotted off, moving to speak with her counterparts from other hives. Celestia let out a sigh of relief.

“Keep an eye on them,” she said evenly to Flash Sentry.

“Gladly, Your Highness,” Sentry replied, motioning to a couple of his Guardsponies. They moved off, keeping a respectful distance from the Changelings but staying close enough to act if necessary.

Celestia let out a brief sigh, closing her eyes for a moment, before opening them again. Another of the delegations – the Griffon Empire’s – was approaching. Celestia was surprised to see their Queen, Hedwig, had come personally instead of sending an ambassador.

But then, why should I be surprised? she thought, smiling. Hedwig

The elderly Griffoness approached, flanked by a tall Griffon in an ornately tailored scarlet military jacket, as well as a pair of Griffon soldiers with less elaborate uniforms.

“Princess Celestia,” Queen Hedwig said imperiously, inclining her head. “A pleasure as always.”

“Your Grace,” Celestia replied properly. “As always, my honour.”

It was a peculiarity of Queen Hedwig that she always addressed beings of any stature by their names, though she preferred the more formula address for herself. Her attention to propriety in that regard was legendary – Celestia remembered a particularly amusing formal dinner where a former student had inadvertently used the wrong form of address, and Hedwig had spent the rest of the evening subtly mispronouncing his name as a pointed reminder.

“The honour is ours, to be received in the grand city of Canterlot,” Hedwig replied, looking around. “May I present Archibald Garson of the Imperial Army?”

The stern-looking Griffon next to Hedwig saluted formally. “Your Highness. You’ll forgive the armed display, but a call of this type suggested a form of military response.”

“A prescient observation,” Celestia said carefully. “It may well come to that.”

“Truly?” Hedwig said, her eyebrows rising. “Forgive me, Celestia… I do not believe I could have ever expected you to say such a thing. Equestria’s dedication to a peaceful world is legendary in its singleness.”

“Some would say to a fault,” Garson added. Hedwig gave him a glare, and he inclined his head. “Meaning no disrespect.”

“Peace is a goal all should wish for,” Celestia said evenly. “But it is also one we must recognise cannot last forever. As someone close to me pointed out recently,” she added, smiling, “millennia of peace is no failure.”

“Wise words, Princess,” Hedwig said evenly. “But it begs the question of what it is that may have ended that peace.”

Celestia inclined her head, but said nothing more on the topic. After a moment, Hedwig let out a snort.

“Well, you might as well have one of your tin-ponies show us where we are to be sequestered,” she said. “That’s if they can see in those helmets.”

Celestia smiled. “Well enough, I think.” She motioned to a pair of Guardsponies. “Escort Queen Hedwig and her cohort to the high quarters on the west wing of the palace. That will make them most comfortable.”

“As you command, Your Highness,” one of the Guardsponies said, saluting.

“My son and his dragoon’s should arrive within the next few hours as well,” Hedwig said. “I did ask him to be discreet, but I think he spends far too much time among his fellow officers to know the meaning of the word.”

“We will find quarters for them all, Your Grace,” one of the Guardsponies said.

“Oh, heavens, no,” Hedwig chuckled, “they’ll likely sleep aboard the Warhawk, but do make sure you break out some of that Canterlot wine I hear such good things about. They’re officers, so they will expect the best.”

“And they’ll have it,” Celestia promised. “Until later, Your Grace.”

Hedwig inclined her head, and headed off after the Guardsponies, neither of whom had looked altogether enthusiastic. Celestia took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Didn’t think this was going to happen, did we? she thought. We’re going to war, and we’re nervous about talking to some delegates of all things.

Even as the Griffon group marched off, however, Celestia’s attention was caught by the approach of one of the Minotaurs. Fortunately, she knew this one as well.

“Wise Darkhoof,” she said, inclining her head, “an honour as always.”

“Princess Celestia,” Nous Darkhoof replied, bowing deeply. “I bring the greetings of the Ekklesiasterion in these uncertain times.”

Celestia’s smile faded slightly. Uncertainty that I caused when I sent the call across the world. I’m beginning to understand how Alexander Reiner feels: what have I set into motion here?

It was not you, she reminded herself. It was the alternate version of you that started the war with the humans, and it was a human who came here, a human you decided to aid. And if there is upset, it is worth it in the pursuit of justice and the defeat of evil.

Darkhoof straightened. Like all Minotaurs he was well-built, though he was perhaps slimmer and less muscular than his comrades. He wore a simple white chiton and a pair of half-moon spectacles.

“How goes your research?” Celestia asked, more to distract herself than anything else.

“Well enough,” Darkhoof replied. “It would be better had I not been called here, but the use of the Concordia Maxima piques my interest enough that I can’t complain overmuch.”

Celestia chuckled. “I thought it might.”

“I’m less surprised that you had it, and more surprised that you were able to use it,” Darkhoof said, frowning. “I’ve heard a great deal about it, but most of that is the sort of thing that implies dark consequences to trying to use it.”

“I expected the same,” a Celestia said with a slow nod. “And yet.”

“And yet,” Darkhoof agreed, still frowning. “Makes you think, doesn’t it? What would make a device of such power and such selective judgement allow itself to be used?”

“I suppose it does beg the question,” Celestia said diplomatically.

She was beginning to fear she would have to answer this same question – the question of why they were all here – a dozen times, and equally obliquely throughout. She could not risk starting a panic about it, and telling them all in a controlled environment was the best way. It would hopefully prevent rumour and whispers from spreading from group to group.

“Indeed,” Darkhoof said. He smiled knowingly at her from behind his spectacles. “I look forward to the answer.”

Celestia nodded. “I hope it does not… disappoint.”

What else could she say?

Darkhoof inclined his head again, before walking off, heading in the direction of the zebra group. Even as he did so, however, a pair of armoured Kirin approached, walking ahead of a stately Kirin in a long black coat, wearing a pair of tinted glasses that covered his eyes.

The two Kirin guards stood aside, flanking him, as he approached. He stared at Celestia for a moment, before bowing deeply.

“Princess Celestia,” he said. “It is an honour to be hosted in Canterlot.”

“Blessed Mikado,” Celestia replied, bowing in turn. “The honour is to host your presence.”

Mikado Toshiro Kane rose, the smallest of smirks upon his face. “I look forward to speaking with you later. For now, may I presume that space has been found for my guards and attendants to be housed?”

“Of course,” Celestia said. She motioned with her wing. “My Guards will escort you.”

“Excellent,” the Mikado said. “Obviously my military personnel will remain aboard the Asahi, except for my escorts here, but I suspect my civilian attendants will be grateful for less utilitarian quarters.”

“Of course,” Celestia said,

Kane bowed, and followed the Guardsponies, his own guards still flanking him. Celestia watched him go with a small smile. She knew Kane more by reputation than experience, but from that she reasoned that he would be looking for advantage.

If any being may find advantage in this mess, she thought grimly.

Turning, Celestia saw the Zebra delegation approaching next. Queen Zolomare herself had come, flanked by stern looking Zebra warriors: she was a tall, stately Zebra, an expression of unshakeable serenity on her face. She wore a long brown cloak edged in gold and silver, and the black of her stripes was greying. She had been Queen for many years, as well, and was a respected and wise shaman in Zebra circles even before she had ascended to the throne.

“Celestia,” Zolomare inclined her head. “I bring my greetings, though I have my concerns about this meeting.”

“You would not be the only one,” Celestia smiled warmly. “Nevertheless, it is good to see you, old friend.”

“And you as well, though the times are troubled,” Zolomare replied. “Though with us all together, our chances are doubled.”

“Indeed,” Celestia nodded, “that is the hope.”

“Another thing before we continue,” Zolomare added, giving Celestia a wry smirk, “for I bring a friend in my diplomatic retinue.”

Celestia blinked. “Spell Nexus? I thought he was not due to return from his time with you for another month.”

“That was true before your call, but when he heard news he dropped it all,” Zolomare replied, smiling. “A more devoted friend you will not find – you have been at the forefront of his mind.”

Celestia smiled, inclining her head. “You bring welcome news to me, Zolomare, and I am grateful.”

“We will speak again, my oldest friend,” Zolomare said, before walking off towards her personal guards and the Royal Guard escorts assigned to them.

When she was gone, there was only one delegation left in the courtyard. The scarlet stag in the red and white cloak turned to look at her, and smiled. With a soft murmur to his companions, he trotted over to her.

“Well I figured I’d leave myself ‘til last,” Sint Erklass said, chuckling. “It looks like you’ve had your hooves full.”

“Sint,” Celestia greeted, smiling warmly. “It’s… you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“And you, my daughter,” Sint said warmly. “I am only sorry that it has been so long since I came to see you.” His expression softened into a deep frown. “And that it took using the Concordia Maxima to precipitate it.”

“That does not matter,” Celestia said. “I’m just glad to see you. I fear we will need your wisdom for what awaits us.”

Sint Erklass’ frown deepened. “Your own wisdom is considerable, Celestia. What ails you so that you’d turn to an old Reindeer like me?”

Celestia shook her head, feeling a wave of something that might have been sorrow.

“I don’t know how to start,” she finally said. “It’s… it is a vision of horror. A warning, maybe, of what is to come. Or what might have been.”

Sint Erklass snorted. “‘Might have been’ is not ‘is’, nor ‘will be’, and there are none with the power to say for sure what is to come, daughter. There are only possibilities, fickle and fragile as they are.”

“Fickle or not, the news I carry can scarcely be seen another way,” Celestia said softly. “There is… so much we must speak of, Papa.”

Sint blinked. “You’ve not called me that in a very long time, child. What… what has happened?”

Celestia shook her head. “Later, Sint. When Luna returns from her errand, we three will talk.”

Sint nodded slowly. “Very well, Celestia. I will speak with you then.”

With that, he passed her, heading towards the Palace, a pair of Royal Guardsponies moving to escort him. When he had passed, Celestia let out a deep sigh.

Well, she thought, they’re all here.

Now there was only the Concordat itself… and, of course, meeting with Luna, and learning exactly what had happened on Earth.

In her chamber a few scant hours later, Celestia was reading. She had in front of her the notes that Twilight had sent from a researcher she had consulted concerning Alexander Reiner’s runic modifications.

She had never made the personal acquaintance of Professor Manewell Trotsworth – the stallion’s reputation was solid but not exceptional – but his research seemed to have brought forth interesting fruit.

Runes similar to Zebra, yet not, she thought. But where would they find them? And why use them?

Before she could continue this line of thought, there was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” she called at once.

From the door emerged a familiar face – a Unicorn stallion with a dark blue coat, slight graying mane, and dressed in a tan colored outfit that didn’t really match his turquoise colored eyes. Despite the outfit, his saddlebags were marked with his cutie mark – an arcane circle. He had a friendly smile on his face as he entered.

“Princess,” the stallion began warmly before stopping. “It’s good to see you despite the circumstances.”

“It’s a sentiment we share, old friend.” Celestia said in turn, “I hope these events didn’t ruin your trip, Spell Nexus.”

“Ah, well, sometimes beggars can’t be choosers.” Spell Nexus said, his horn glowing as telekinesis pushed his trilbee up, “while I would have liked to have gotten insight to the Zebra’s potion work, the duties of an Archmage can come calling. Literally in this case.”

“Indeed,” Celestia said, nodding. She sighed. “Suffice it to say, some… things have happened.”

“And to think, I missed them. I suppose I picked the wrong time to leave Canterlot,” He said playfully as his saddle bags opened to reveal various items – some notebooks in particular since one of them was pulled out. “But fret not, Princess. I haven’t been idle while abroad and may have some interesting information that may involve our guest.”

Celestia blinked. “You know about that?”

“I contacted Manewell before joining Queen Zolomare for a trip back home. He got me up to speed for a steep price, but worthwhile…” his smile became tight. “Even if that was my last bottle of Manehatten classic cider.”

“A steep price indeed,” Celestia said, smiling. “So – what do you know?”

Opening the notebook suspended in his magic, Spell Nexus turned to a specific page. “The Zebra historical council had found some curious ruins and asked for my assistance; there was a strange runic script that, while seeming zebra at first, was something else.” The page depicted said runes which were familiar to Celestia but only because of the still current source, “as I found with the samples I brought with me, this kind of script does resemble some other ancient records from different races. However, the one it does not resemble was curious in of itself; our own. This script is not that of the theorized ancient Alicorns of old.”

Celestia nodded slowly. There were a great many different interpretations of the history of Equus prior to the current age, but the only one who truly remembered all of that was Sint Erklass, and he had been reticent to speak over much of that time.

“If it is not the ancient Alicornic script, what is it?” she asked.

“Unknown, it seems,” Spell Nexus said, eyeballing the script. “What can be determined is that this script belonged to a race who had ties to not only the zebra but others beyond the three tribes. Additionally, given what Manewell told me, the human’s runes may be connected to this as well. And even then, traces of this same style of script can be seen among Kirin ruins, the Minotaur acropoli, and more besides.”

“So widespread,” Celestia whispered. “A common ancestor? Or something else?”

“Unknown, still.” Spell Nexus said, looking to Celestia, “what’s bitingly obvious is that this can’t be a coincidence – the universe is not that troublesome. Answers must be coming at some point given all the mysteries we’re left in.”

“The most pressing, I fear, being this,” Celestia said. “This human has these runes tattooed upon his body. How did he get them? Who from?”

“Well forgive me if this seems obvious,” Spell Nexus replied, “but… has anypony bothered to ask him?”

Seeing Professor Spell Nexus again might have been a happy occasion for Lyra, who hadn’t seen her old Headmaster in a long time. Unfortunately, when he and Celestia came into the room, neither of them looked very happy.

“Alexander Reiner,” Celestia said, “allow me to introduce Professor Spell Nexus, Headmaster of the School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Sir Reiner,” the Headmaster said.

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, nodding his head and smiling.

“It occurs to me that I must ask something I have not before,” Celestia said, giving him a wry smirk. “Strange that it never occurred, but…”

Alex frowned. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Your runes,” Spell Nexus put in. “Where did you get them from?”

There was a pause. Alex blinked.

“I… we got them from Lyra, or from her notes anyway,” Alex said, frowning in confusion. “I got them inscribed on me after she passed, based on the notes she left.” He looked from Nexus to Celestia. “I’m sorry… are they not pony runes?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow, looking to Spell Nexus with a wry smirk. “No. They’re not.”

Spell Nexus nodded gravely. “Trust me, Sir Reiner, I’ve studied all manner of ponic script possible. Whatever your runes are, they’re not from us.”

“I assumed they were…” Alex said. “There was a lot that Lyra didn’t tell us, towards the end. I always assumed it was on a need-to-know basis, and I got them from her, so I assumed…”

“If Celestia doesn’t know,” Lyra said, “How would I?”

Alex frowned, before looking to Lyra, who was frowning in confusion herself. “You mean you don’t?”

“I… honestly, I’ve never seen anything like these runes,” she said, looking from Nexus to Celestia. “Professor Nexus, Princess, I… don’t understand how I could have given Alex or his people this information. It’s not even my field of expertise!”

Spell Nexus’s mouth twitched at being called Professor.

“Well, we must imagine a possibility then. Given how only recently those ruins were found, it’s possible that your counterpart may have discovered these runes herself, Lyra,” the Headmaster said, not breaking his stride. “Alternatively, it’s just as possible that somepony might have provided her with them. Either of these possibilities are what we should keep in mind going forward, rather than accepting the unknown.”

“But if she knew this…” Lyra whispered. “How much else did she know? How did she find it out?”

“Good question,” Spell Nexus said. He smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, since we can’t talk to the dead, we don’t know.”

“But you can talk to the living,” Alex cut in. “Lyra – you… she… left journals behind, and she spoke to others about what she found.” He suddenly smiled. “If you were to come back with me…”

“Go with you to your world?” Celestia suddenly said, frowning. “But isn’t that… unsafe?”

Alex’s expression sobered. “It is. But it’s also the only chance we have for us to understand what these runes are, what else Lyra, my Lyra, knew. Everything we have left of hers is there.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “We shall confer with Luna and Galatea when they return from your world, and see what comes of that.”

“Ideally, we could get an expedition out of this,” Spell Nexus mused, “or better yet, answers to the mysteries across multiple worlds. The whole of matters remains grim and we’re left to tread carefully.”

Lyra nodded slowly. “Thank you, Professor.”

Spell Nexus inclined his head. “I shall go and speak with Manewell. See if he has any more insight – or perhaps if he and I together can find an answer. In the meantime…” He gave Lyra a sympathetic smile. “You look exhausted, Lyra. Try to get some rest.”

He turned and left, and Celestia, with a final smile, followed.

“Well, that’s just what we needed,” Alex said after a moment. “More questions.”

Lyra’s mouth thinned. “Well, at least we know where to get answers.”

Jed: What’s kinda funny is that “Zolomare” was something I came up with as a really bad ‘King Solomon’ pun, and somehow it’s stayed the course 😂 Funny the stuff that sticks around.

But jokes about that aside: it feels like it’s been an age since this story went back to Prime Equus – probably because the last chapter set in Prime Equus was literally posted more than a year ago. Uh, hooray for this story’s Troubled Production?

(Seriously, if this thing ever gets its own Tropes page, “Troubled Production” is going to be one hell of a field day – dunno where you’d start! 😂)

Special shoutout to TheIdiot and Doctor Fluffy for their work on Spell Nexus and the Mane Six respectively. It’s been nice getting their help and input on this stuff. Plus nobody’s better at Pinkie Pie than Fluffy. 🙂

Fluffy: I am a fountain of useful information.