The next couple of days were calm and uneventful, allowing Andromalius to heal under the care of Zecora. With nothing left to do, the hell stallion spent most of his time sleeping or reading books that the zebra gave him at his request. He didn't speak with Zecora much, however, as her presence emanated a certain odd feeling... Like she was from a different world, but not just in a way everyone around Andromalius was. An aura of mystery surrounded the zebra; what was she doing so far away from civilization, secluded in this dangerous forest all by herself? In his mind, he believed zebras lived in savannas, not thick dark forests. He didn't dare ask questions about it, of course – he realized there must be a huge reason for Zecora to live how she did, and perhaps prying wasn't the best idea.

Thankfully for the hell stallion, the peace within Zecora's tree-carved hut remained constant throughout his stay, and the zebra herself was away most of the time, leaving him to his own devices. He couldn't be happier to sustain this relationship.

Aside from the crawling suspicion he had about the zebra, he had a different worrying thought on his mind also – his inability to contact Inanna. Ever since the explosion, she was gone from his mind with no sign of return. No presence in his head, nothing but the usual silence and a flow of his own controlled thoughts. Whether to count it as a blessing or a problem, he didn't yet know.

In any case, he couldn't afford to stay in place and do nothing; once he completely healed, he was ready to depart. His next destination was the Summer Palace or, as it was more commonly known by most, the Castle of Two Sisters. A ruin of a previously magestic castle, it stood amidst the gloomy forest of Everfree, abandoned for centuries following Luna's Banishment.

Following Andromalius' escape from Canterlot, Princess Luna was no longer able to provide him direct assistance, but the message she made gave him directions to continue his studies not just of battle magic exclusively but also of the arcane arts in a broader sense. All the necessary information was stored inside if the library part of the castle was still intact, which Luna believed it was. It was the best chance for the hell stallion to learn without endangering himself by going near pony settlements.

Andromalius silently walked through the forest, his steps light and yet careful as he treaded on the dark soil. Patches of rough grass crunched and bent under his hooves, and branches brushed against his exoskeleton, rustling the leaves. His ears swiveled around, catching the slightest noise, looking out for anything that might signal danger. His eyes scanned the surroundings attentively, inspecting the surrounding bushes and the canopy above. Luna's medallion lay on his chest along with a few citrus fruits tied around his neck. A pair of saddlebags were by his sides, containing some food, water, a vague map of the forest provided by Zecora, a sleeping bag, and various small tools.

The dark soil was soft underneath his hooves, clinging to them as he walked; the air was humid and rich with various scents most of which Andromalius couldn't recognize. The trees creaked, the birds twitted and squeaked, and the insects chirped from their hiding place among the tall blades of grass.

The hooves of the hell stallion clicked, prompting him to look down; underneath the dirt and the moss, small boulders could be seen, making the remains of the pavement. To the side, almost indistinguishable from the crooked trees of the forest, a bent lamp post stood. The glass at the top was shattered and smoothed over time, and a small nest replaced the lamp itself. For a moment, Andromalius stopped and took a look at the map – and indeed, the post was marked on it. He was on the right way.

The sun was high above the forest, its rays penetrating the thick canopy of the forest, making way for the light to guide the hell stallion. The atmosphere was seemingly peaceful and calm, but various rustles and creaks warned of predators and dangers lurking around. Timberwolves stalked their prey yet again, keeping their distance because of the impossibly strong smell of the citrus fruits. For a while, they followed Andromalius, trying to close the distance, and yet the smell kept them away. The hell stallion was tense, his magic at the ready as he often looked around, scanning the surroundings for the glowing eyes of the predators. Thankfully for him, they soon dropped their pursuit, growling in displeasure; and yet, there might be simpler prey around the forest, one that didn't threaten to bite back.

After a while, the ground become steeper, leading Andromalius up to a big hill. The ancient steps of stone made long ago by the ponies eroded over time, turning into a smooth and overgrown slide, and yet it continued to serve its purpose in leading to the castle.

A roar came from the top of the hill, making chills go down Andromalius' spine and making him look up. A manticore was standing there, glaring at the intruder; its tail was high in a striking position, its fangs were bared, and its body was low to the ground. Andromalius paled, his body tensening, and he looked straight into the eyes of the manticore hoping that it would signal the beast not to attack him. However, he didn't know whether eye contact was a display of hostility or not, so he could only have hope.

For what seemed like eternity, the staring contest went on. Then the manticore headed towards Andromalius, moving slowly and carefully. Not sure whether to fall back or stand in place, the hell stallion decided to do the latter just in case running away was seen by the beast as a sign of weakness, and thus a trait of prey. He stood his ground, not once looking away from the eyes of the manticore. It came closer and closer, and yet didn't attack; however, its expression was hostile as far as Andromalius could understand.

The one thing animals always fear is fire, he remembered. And he always carried fire with him, inside him; it was always there, waiting to be released and used. However, he must be careful, for the fire could get out of control and result in untold destruction once it became wild. But when his life was on the line, he could summon it to aid him.

A streak of flame erupted along his spine and on the tip of his tail and hooves; at first it roared like the manticore did minutes before, forcing the beast to jump back in surprise and fear. Then the fire subsided somewhat, calming down. For a moment, Andromalius feared it burned his belongings, but a quick glance at them spoke otherwise to his greatest surprise. Despite the grass turning black underneath his hooves, the saddlebags, the medallion, and the cirtrus fruits remained unharmed.

Andromalius moved further up the hill, scorching the ground in his path, and the manticore finally submitted to his will, running away from the flames. After a while, the hell stallion finally extinguished his flames after making sure the manticore was nowhere in sight.

At the top of the hill, the forest opened into a big field separated in two by a chasm; the two sides were connected by a wooden rope bridge. On the far side of the chasm, the ruins of the Summer Palace were visible, overgrown like the rest of what once belonged to the pony kind in the Everfree. Andromalius sat down to rest and admire the view; as abandoned as the castle was, it still emitted a feeling of majesty and power... and a certain dark feeling. The hell stallion fidgeted, considering returning to Zecora for a moment. However, he needed to learn, and Princess Luna promised there was a secret room where he could study and sleep without disturbance.

With a few reassuring thoughts, he closed the distance between himself and the rope bridge. Hesitantly, he took a step forward onto it, still remembering how he fell from it when the ropes were cut so many days ago. The wooden board underneath him creaked but didn't give in much, giving him hope. Step by step, he crossed the bridge, trying not to look down; after many slow moments of uncertainy and fear, he was finally on the other side. He let out a sigh of relief and headed into the castle.

The double doors were slightly ajar, allowing him to sneak inside without disturbing the rotten wood and the rusty iron. A round chamber presented itself to him, a pedestal in its center: an orb surrounded by five stone arms ending in round plates. A trace of powerful magic could be sensed coming from the pedestal. The top of the chamber was gone completely, rubble lying around; another trace of magic could be sensed, a different one – raw and unbridled, powerful and filled to the brim with angst and bitterness. Shivers ran down his spine as if cold, and for a moment, he swore he heard a cry. And yet, the castle was silent, abandoned by all a long time ago.

He carefully moved further into the palace; through a small corridor, he appeared in the central hall. Overgrown with moss and small trees, broken and gone in many places, the floor lost its majesty; chips and webs of cracks ran along the walls and arches of entryways, from one of which the hell stallion emerged. The ceiling, previously arched glass, was now gone, exposing the hall to the elements. Nests of birds were perched on light fixtures, filling the abandoned castle with a sense of life, albeit different.

When he was there last, he was in a rush, galloping to save what he thought was the only chance of returning back home. Now, slower, more carefully, he walked amidst the ruins of a once majestic palace, feeling it, seeing it, and hearing its creaks and groans, like those of an animal slumbering in an unpleasant dream. He could feel its essense, he could feel the traces of those who lived there so long ago. And a familiar darkness welcomed him as if he were a part of it; it embraced him, whispering into his mind the thoughts and dreams of the night.

Andromalius' steps were soft and silent as he made his way across the hall to the stairs. His eyes scanned the surroundings, his ears swiveled to the most subtle of sounds. He looked up at the stairs and paused, his eyes narrowing – it seemed a figure was standing on the top, looking at him. Once he focused, he realized it was just a weirdly-shaped dark stain on the wall. Shaking his head, he continued on his way to the stairs and then up to the big double doors leading further into the castle. If he understood Luna's message correctly, he was soon to reach his destination. However, the state of the castle didn't give him much hope.

One of the doors groaned as he pushed it, disturbing a millenium of dust; a dark chamber opened before him. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting of the chamber, and it revealed rows of bookshelves full of differents tomes, journals, novels, and everything else a curious mind could desire. He sneaked inside, closing the door behind him, and went to explore the chamber.

He looked up at the ceiling, and it turned out to be intact; however, plaster was coming off of it, exposing the stone used to make the many supporting arches. The chamber smelled of old books and dryness, which surprised the hell stallion – if anything, he expected it to be overgrown and rotten after centuries of abandonment. However, it raised his spirits – if the chamber was in such a good condition, he would be able to find the secret lever to the hidden room without many issues as long as the opening mechanism was also still intact.

He walked across the rows, heading to the one on the far right. Once he found it, he ventured further until he came to a particular table with two chairs on the opposite ends of it. One of them was tipped over, lying on its side, but the other was standing still, square to the table. He reached out with his magic and pushed it forward. Instead of sliding across the floor, it tilted, revealing a curved piece of wood attached to the bottom of one of the legs. Something clicked underneath the floor, and one of the shelves opened outwards, revealing a hidden entrance. Smiling to himself, Andromalius let go of the chair and quickly entered the passage as the bookshelf slowly closed itself behind him. Once it did, total darkness enveloped the hell stallion, prompting him to light up his horn.

The passage was short and empty, and now he had to search for a certain brick to push to open the next door. If he remembered right, it would be the fourth brick of the tenth row from the bottom. He pressed on it and nothing happened; his brows furrowed. Maybe it was the tenth brick of the fourth row instead? This guess proved to be incorrect also. Stiffling growing uneasiness, he decided to pick the fourth brick of the tenth row from the top. To his relief, the brick moved, and the wall in front of him slid open, revealing a round room. If he didn't know better, Andromalius would think someone was still using it – the windows were intact and clean, the pillows and the beds looked like new, and there was not a speck of dust in sight. Even the carpet on the floor hadn't lost any of its colors.

The hell stallion took off his saddle bags and set them by the wall, then pulled on one of the candle holders to close the passage behind him. Now, he was alone and secure in this small room, although there was a regular door nearby leading elsewhere. He couldn't dare to step on the carpet, however, as his hooves were caked in dirt from his trip through the forest. So, he sat down and started cleaning them with his magic, making sure no dirt would go anywhere near the undoubtedly ancient carpet.

Once it was done, he walked onto the carpet, then to one of the big pillows, and lay down on it. The pillows was as soft as a cloud, its texture was nice and smooth, welcoming him into its embrace. For a while, he just lay there, enjoying the comfort, resting from his trip to the castle. The flow of his thoughts slowed down, and he released a yawn. Maybe he could rest a little longer...

The veil of darkness and magic wrapped around him, cocooning him, whispering things in his mind. Soon, he was asleep, and the dark trails of the tragedy of the castle entered his dreams.

Peace wouldn't be on his mind in this slumber.