“There.” Celestia spoke the word with a tone of finality. Her quill lifted from the page, the ink on its end staining the parchment. Pink eyes read over her words quickly, ensuring that everything that needed to be said was present. A small nod of her head confirmed the contents.

Her horn gave a trivial burst of light as it surrounded the paper. The scroll lifted into the air, rolling up upon itself as a ribbon was wrapped around it. It took only a hoof full of seconds for the action to be completed, as she had done it many times in both the recent and distant past. Shutting her eyes, she focused her mind on Twilight, far away from Canterlot.

Celestia quickly banished the usual path of directing the letter to Spike. Easier as it would be for both her and her student, there was no guarantee that Twilight was near her the dragon. A quick list of reasons why were scrolled away in the diarch’s mind, including parties, chores, races, or just small picnics. In the end, it didn’t matter.

This was an urgent matter, and she needed her student’s help. It wasn’t every lifetime that the Ley Lines changed. And in all of Celestia’s long life, they had only changed once before.

A small but echoing pop filled the air, all the indication Celestia needed to know the letter was gone. Opening her eyes, she saw it was very much the case. Her eyes, however, remained stern and focused.

“Tell Tale,” the diarch called, earning the appearance of a tan unicorn by her side. The tied back mane and levitating clipboard betrayed the no-nonsense demeanor of the pony in question.

“Yes, your highness? What do you need?” Celestia wasted no time to instruct her assistant to relax. Truth be told, it would have been very hypocritical for her to ask of somepony something that she herself wouldn’t do.

“Please gather my sister from her chambers and send word to Crystal Kingdom.” The unicorn did not bat even an eye as she quickly scrawled her princess’s command. “A new focal center for the Ley Lines has appeared. We must discuss the implications of this change and deduce the reason for its appearance. Is that understood?” Tell Tale’s quill flicked off the page as Celestia finished.

“Right away, your majesty. Word will be sent post haste.” True to her word, the unicorn galloped from the hall, clipboard floating through the air at her side.

Celestia took a slow, controlled breath of air as her assistant turned out of the hall and out of sight. The situation didn’t leave with her.

Iron Wit had departed some time ago, taking his scrolls, bag, and jostled mind from her court. He spoke as he left about more research he would be conducting on this matter. Celestia remembered ordering him to report any new developments to her, no matter how insubstantial they seemed.

When was the last time she had given an order such as that? Asking for every detail in regards to something?

Such an order would normally fill her court with redundant messages or hoaxes, at a rate faster than she could read, to boot. Her rule had always been conducted with a calm mind and sure resolve, determined, yet controlled. Rash decisions were scarce for her, even over the course of a thousand years. Yet here she was, fully aware of what she had asked but not regretting her words.

Celestia forced herself to blink, unaware of her vacant staring until the aridity of her eyes began to pain her. Another sigh was released.

Once Luna appeared, they would have to discuss in length the measures to be taken in the immediate and late term, actions to prevent possible power struggles from emerging. Her ponies were kind and generous, but just as much were they curious. A curiosity towards power was as innate in them all as their hearts and minds.

In the end, it would have to be Twilight and her friends that would discern the location, and, possibly, the source of the Ley Line focal point. One was required, but the other was preferred. Knowing the exact location within the forest would allow Celestia and her guards to properly protect the likely exploitable amount of magic, at least until it could be contained to acceptable degrees. Knowing the source, however, would quicken both processes while preventing future ones.

A single action likely caused this event to occur. Now, Celestia needed to take half a dozen to prevent it from ruining the balance of Equestria. Despite herself, she grinned.

Such was the way of a leader, taking ten steps forward for every one step back.

“Princess Celestia!” A masculine voice echoed through the great hall.

The pressing call of her name echoed through the hall, immediately grabbing the alicorn’s attention. Her pink eyes saw a guard galloping into the room, head lowered to increase his already impressive speed. He nearly slid to a stop before her throne, not bothering to slow his pace. But despite it all, there was only one thing the diarch was focused on.

The alarm in his eyes; it was more prevalent than any other feature.

“What is it?” She commanded quickly, one hoof already stepping off the throne as she spoke. “Has something happened? Has another focal point appeared?” The guard shook his head viciously, collecting his breath as he did so.

“No,” he spoke on with a heavy exhale. “There is… there is something….”

His eyes turned upwards and his form collapsed. There wasn’t a moment to prepare for it.

Celestia stood to her tallest in a moment, rushing towards the fallen guard. The rest of her golden-armored stallions hurried to her side, and the side of their fallen comrade. Celestia’s eyes looked the guard over quickly, her body towering over his fallen form. But regardless how many times her gaze swept over the stallion, the diarch found no injuries to force his collapse or objects weighing him down. He appeared only exhausted, his labored breathing continuing through his unconscious state.

“Take him to the medical wing, now!” Celestia all but barked at the guard nearest to her, earning a deep bow from the stallion. The golden-clad sentinel bent over the fallen soldier, lifting his body off the floor and onto his back. With haste, the stallion departed, leaving only Celestia and her guards. The tension, however, did not leave with the fallen soldier.

Celestia moved towards the door, preparing to march through it. She could not sit idly by, not after witnessing a member of her personal guard collapsing only a pace in front of her. The very same soldiers stopped her, however.

“Please,” one of the guards explained, his head lowered as he spoke. “You must remain here, your majesty. Allow us to search for what caused him to collapse.” For once, however, the diarch would have nothing to do with it.

“Move lieutenant,” Celestia spoke in an almost cold tone. “I will not play the part of apathy as my ponies fall before me. If he was harmed within these walls, I will see to it personally that the problem is resolved.” The diarch left little room to argue. The guards, however, were duty bound to more than just the crown’s word.

“It is our oath to ensure your safety, your highness,” the same guard spoke again, head still lowered as he did so. “Allowing you to leave this chamber would only place you in the path of harm.” In a quick motion, the guard swung his head to his right, eyes staring at a soldier flanking Celestia. The golden clad soldier nodded once before galloping from the great hall, moving beyond the door and out of sight. “We will find out what is wrong soon, and if it is safe for you to leave.”

“It is safer for me to leave this chamber than for you, lieutenant.” Celestia’s tone hardened with every word. “Your duty is to me, and mine to you. I will not ask nor allow you to place soldiers in the path of harm, not while I am standing and able.”

“I am not asking you to flee, your majesty.” The guard looked up as he spoke now, staring into his ruler’s eyes with a determination only years of diligence could forge. “I am asking only for your loyal soldiers, the ponies who have sworn their life to you, to defend you while you rule from here. Send your order, give warning, but please, bide your time.” With a slow breath, he spoke what he knew would be undeniable.

“If you were to fall, for whatever reason, we would truly be lost.”

Celestia bit back a scream of rage as she was presented the facts.

It was always like this, having to request of others what she could do herself, forced to be so protective of her well-being while disregarding the very real danger her ponies marched into. She would rather be trapped within the sun than where she was now. At least in the sun she would only be able to guess at what was occurring with her absence. Here she had to watch it unfold and sit idly by.

“Very well,” the diarch’s cold tone commanded. “But do so with haste. Rouse my sister and all the guards.”

The soldiers offered only a hasty nod before retreating from the chamber. With the aura of magic at their disposal, the great doors of the hall shut, leaving Celestia alone. She snarled to herself as she did so, hateful of the situation she was in.

Her steps were heavy as she trotted back to her throne, slow but full of strength. Too much was occurring far too quickly. A Ley Line Focal Point creation, a supposed attack on her castle without so much as even a sound, and a refusal of her ponies to allow her to even lift a hoof.

Why couldn’t she hear the sounds of battle? Why did only one of her soldiers find their way to her hall? Why was there not a messenger or letter of warning? What was going on?

It was only too generous that there wasn’t a statue in her hall, else she might have bucked it in two.

“Hurry now, Twilight.” Celestia whispered harshly, her eyes staring up at the golden throne. “I have only the feeling that this is much larger than it appears to be.”

“Did you make these carvings, Aisling, or perhaps touch up on them?” Twilight ventured the question as she looked over the walls, her horn lighting them. “Because they show no form of aging, like the statues outside.” The unicorn was a quick study, and she knew words like erosion and deterioration would either go straight over the nymph’s head or get her called odd again. Maybe both, but neither seemed nice.

“Some I made, some I remade.” Aisling replied simply. She walked only a small pace ahead of the rest of the ponies, her arms stretched outwards as if balancing on a beam. “The forest changes with time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change it the way I want to.”

“That makes sense,” Applejack noted as she observed one of the markings by her, her hoof running over the tough edge. “Can’t expect anything ta last if ya don’t give it some proper maintenance. True for just ‘bout anything.”

“I often wondered how this forest kept such stable peace,” Zecora mused as she walked to the Fae’s side, smiling at the mystic creature. “It must be because you keep it piece by piece.”

“Not every part,” Aisling spoke as she did a small twirl, her long alabaster hair wrapping around her. “Just the parts that need it. The forest is alive, so it should grow the way it wants. I just make sure it doesn’t make mistakes.”

Twilight half-listened to the conversation of the Fae and her friends as she continued to stare openly at the markings and carvings of the hall walls. She was more than amazed by the detail they had. They were history wrapped in images, all conjoined in seemingly connected and flowing lines. Every time her eyes scanned over one collection of lines, she saw something she had missed before.

At one moment, she saw trees growing, their heights increasing the further she proceeded down the hall. But when Twilight looked over it again, her eyes saw creatures instead, their manes growing longer and stature taller the further she moved.

There was a kind of magic working within the art that was beyond the complex memorization and casting she was so used to. For Twilight, who had spent years studying the art of magic in the mind, this art of magic in carvings and nature was a fresh mystery to her, full of wonder she had yet to completely tap.

Her hoof moved over the carvings as her mind continued to work, eyes attempting as best they could to retain what they saw. She stopped, however, when she felt a pressure on the back of said hoof. It took only a small twist of her head, complete with the light still glowing from her horn, to see Dash’s staring back at her.

“You okay there, Twi?” The pegasus asked her genuinely, one of her brows raised as spoke. “Cause… you’re staring at the wall pretty hard. I thought you were about to start talking to it.” Twilight felt a small blush crawl up her cheeks.

“N-No,” the unicorn weakly spoke in her defense. “I was just trying to memorize the carvings. But… it’s… well, I’ll just say that remembering pictures like this is a lot harder than text on a page.” Her head twisted away from the pegasus as spoke.

That was before she felt Dash move her hoof to Twilight’s head, patting it like she would a filly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it egghead.” Dash gave the unicorn her signature smile as she reassured her friend. “We only just met a supposed-to-be made-up creature in the Everfree Forest. Can’t really say we’re expecting you to learn everything about her in a day.” The unicorn smiled at the gesture and words. She opened her mouth to convey that thanks.

In the next moment, light sparks flew from her horn.

The hall was immediately lit with dancing displays of color, green and lavender hues shining off the stone and illuminating the dark hall. Rainbow swiftly jerked her hoof from Twilight, stumbling backwards with little grace. The rest of the ponies and Fae present were little different, the light earning their immediate attention.

And as the light died down and returned to the subtle glow from before, wide and careful eyes were now fixated on Twilight.

“Whoa, hey!” Dash shouted, backing away from Twilight as she did so. “Geez Twilight, you could have just said I was bothering y-”

“Dash, wait.” Twilight quickly said as she held up one of her hooves. The mares and Fae looked down at it to see a scroll in her grasp, still smoking lightly from its entrance. Aisling jumped over Zecora, landing beside the unicorn, before she spoke.

“Where did you find that?” She asked the unicorn with curiosity in her eyes. “I haven’t seen that in here before.”

“That’s because it wasn’t here,” Twilight explained. “I… I think Princess Celestia just sent it to me. But she usually has to send it through Spike. I-It’s easier that way.” She bit her lip as she finished, eyes looking down at the scroll with a trepid gaze.

“Young Twilight, something ails your mind,” Zecora observed, walking closer to the mare as she did so. “What is on this scroll that you fear to find?” Twilight offered her lavender gaze to the zebra, looking into the wise and astute golden orbs of the elder mare.

“It’s just that… the princess knows that sending scrolls from unicorn to unicorn can often be painful, if the recipient is unprepared. That’s why she thought Spike would be best to send the letters, because he has dragon fire. I… I think something bad has happened.” The words seeped into the mares present.

“Bad how?” Apple Bloom naively asked, pushing her way between Applejack and Rainbow as she did. “Do ya think somethin’ is wrong with Canterlot?” Twilight felt her stomach churn at the possibility.

Instead of speaking again, however, the unicorn took a slow breath into her lungs, calming her mind and body what little she could. Upon its release, she guided the magic in her horn once more.

Her signature lilac aura surrounded the paper, lifting it into the air with a soft hum.

“Dear Twilight,” the mare began to read, the ponies and Fae around her listening intently. “I am writing this to you in great haste, and I apologize if my method of sending this caused you any pain or undue panic. However, this is a grave matter of great importance.” Twilight swallowed a ball in her throat as she read on.

“Only just recently has one of my chief magical advisors, Iron Wit, told me of a rather surprising, if thought to be impossible, event. Even now as I write this, I have called for the presence of my sister and all other impertinent parties to decide on what to do.”

“This is gettin’ a tad bit worryin’.” Applejack spoke with a touch of concern in her voice, eyes focused on Twilight as she spoke.

“According Iron Wit, a new Ley Line Focal Point has been… created?” Twilight spoke the last word as a question, unsure of her own eyes as she read from the paper. Her magic turned and twisted, altering the page as she looked it over. She scrutinized the strained writings of her mentor, hoping to find a missing letter or misplaced word.

“No no no, that can’t be right.” Twilight shook her head in dismissal, not even reading on.

“Yeah, I mean, something like that has never happened before.” Rainbow Dash assured the unicorn, if only for herself. One of her legs itched the other, rubbing up and down as she unevenly chuckled.

“Such… such a declaration is due for some fright.” Zecora’s head fell as she spoke, her golden eyes widening as she did. “I cannot even dream that such a thing is right.”

“What’s not right?” Apple Bloom asked from among the older mares, each of them donning an expression of worry. “What’s wrong? Ah don’t understand.”

“The Ley Lines have changed, haven’t they?”

Twilight, Rainbow, Applejack, and Zecora nearly broke their necks with how fast their heads twisted towards Aisling. The nymph, however, in spite of despite the sudden news, merely stared at the many eyes on her, a calm line drawn over her mouth.

“Aisling,” Twilight began, “You… know about they Ley Lines?” Almost immediately, the unicorn clarified her own question. “I mean, how do you know about them? They were a discovery made by unicorns only shortly before the founding of Equestria. How… do you know about them?”

“Because my people found them. Most of them. Brendan’s people found a few, but my people found more.” Then, with a fanged smile and crossed arms, Aisling spoke a single sentence that shook the foundations Twilight stood on. “My mother found line crossings here. She found the gate that helped the forest grow.”

She may as well have told the unicorn she created the heavens and earth, so little else would have shocked Twilight as greatly.

Breath seemed impossible to grasp as Twilight stared at the thin pale Fae, the fairy folk that so easily spoke of her people finding and marking the very magical lines that defined the source of nature and life throughout Equestria.

“Whoa.” Dash spoke lightly, her own voice shrunk beneath the revelation they were handed. There were few other words any of the mares thought properly conveyed the scope of what Aisling had said. Twilight fought with herself over what to do.

She had already had a million and one questions for the Fae-- now there were a million more she could pose. Theories, hypotheses, legends, myths; every story the unicorn had ever heard about the creation of magic, this lone and mystical creature likely knew the truth of. For all rights and purposes, Twilight was looking at the Lost Tomes of Creation.

“What does the rest of this say?” The nymph’s words slowly shook Twilight back to her senses. She regained enough insight realize that the scroll Celestia had sent was now in Aisling’s grasp, being held up at her eye level. Or rather, held at eye level before she started to twist and alter the page, her green eyes screwed in confusion, at least. “This doesn’t look like Brendan’s language. What is it?”

“E-Equestrian…” Twilight slowly spoke, her mind trying to restart itself. “It’s… it’s a very old but developing language that-- hey!” Her thoughts finally centered long enough for her to realize that she had not finished the letter from her mentor.

With a small burst of magic from her horn, she lifted the page from Aisling’s small hand, letting it drift back to the unicorn. A pout was placed over the nymph’s features. Twilight, wisely or otherwise, focused on the letter in her aura.

“Twilight, I must ask you to search the Everfree Forest for the source of this Focal Point, as it will likely need to be measured and monitored. Exploitation of magical sources is always possible, but if a new Focal Point was altered or used by unknown sources, the consequences could be dire. So please, I ask of you and your friends to find this point and, if at all possible, what created it. When you have word of it, or at all, send me what you can with haste. I wish you luck my student, and thank you for all that you have done. Princess Celestia.”

The silence that followed was far shorter than before.

“That’s… that’s a mighty tall order ta fill.” Applejack noted her opinion with no shortage of honesty, adjusting her hat as she did so. “Almost makes me wish Ah’d taken my brother along for this.”

“Your brother?” Rainbow Dash asked incredulously. “Heck, I think we should’ve asked the Wonderbolts for help on this.”

“Now what makes ya think we need a bunch of high flyin’ pegasi ta search the Everfree?” Applejack spoke back. “Ya know they can’t see apples from oranges half a mile in the sky. We’re gonna need muscle for this, not speed.”

“Muscle? We’ve gotta search the entire Everfree Forest and you want muscle?” Rainbow twisted her head as she spoke. “We’re gonna need speed if we want to get this done in our lifetime.”

“I would say you need common sense, else you will be mistaken for dense.” Zecora’s statement stopped the bickering between the two mares, instead moving their challenging gazes towards the zebra. Zecora, however, kept a small grin on her face as she spoke. Turning her head, she directed the eyes of mares towards the outlier in their group.

Aisling looked at Twilight, who stared back at her with a careful gaze.

“Aisling,” the lavender mare carefully spoke, choosing her words before she said them. “Do you know where the Ley Line Focal Point is in your forest?” The nymph twisted her head, put her hands on her hips, and dropped one of her brows before she answered.

“It is not obvious?” She posed the question sincerely, looking at the unicorn skeptically. When Twilight only kept her silence, the Fae spoke on, shrugging before she did so.

“You’re standing over it.” What the rest of the mares expected was fainting from the unicorn. What they got instead was a much more subdued action.

Twilight sighed.

“That’s… that’s what I though.” She agreed simply. “The exponential increase in my magical reserves and levitation alterations was clue enough, if not for the magical properties being exhibited by the flora around us. Heck, even the carvings are full of magic.” The unicorn let her hoof rise and fall over one of the walls as she spoke, tracing the well-maintained etches as she did so.

“We’re… we’re in a focal point?!” Dash all but screamed her statement, giving the group a small sensation of pain thanks to the echoing hall they stood in.

“Keep the screamin’ to a min’, Dash.” Applejack spoke reprimandingly to the pegasus. “Don’t need my ears ringing while my mind’s still reeling.”

“You aren’t in a gate,” Aisling spoke to the pair, walking towards them as she did so. “You can’t enter one. They’re doors, passageways by which magic comes and leaves the world. You can stand on it, but you can’t enter it.” Twilight wasn’t sure if she should be thankful or shocked by the absolute calmness with which Aisling spoke. She settled for both.

“Okay, alright,” the unicorn spoke with a nodding head. “But, that doesn’t explain why we only just found out about it. I mean, Equestria has been founded and charted for over a thousand years, and we’ve known about all the Ley Line Focal Points since then.”

“That’s because Brendan sealed it, at least before he left. It was the last thing he did, and he asked me if he could before he did.” Twilight stared down, jaw agape at the Fae who smiled so simply back up at her. “I know why he did it, and I’m glad he did.”

“Why did he seal it, then?” Rainbow Dash asked the obvious question. “I mean, every foal is taught about Ley Lines at some point. They’re what keep pegasi flying, unicorns casting, and earth ponies farming. Why the heck would somepony want ta seal it?”

“No,” Twilight spoke up before Aisling could possibly answer the question. She had a less obvious, but drastically more important question.

“Aisling, did you unseal the focal point?” If she did, then Twilight knew that she would have to take Aisling to the princess. If she didn’t… then they still had the knowledge of where the focal point was. One better, they had the last life in Equestria that could aptly describe them.

That was what Twilight was thinking all the way until the Fae actually answered.

“No, because…” Aisling drifted off.

The unicorn watched, eyes skewed, as the Fae stopped speaking. It was the first time the unicorn had seen the nymph avoid a conversation or actively drop one. Something was definitely wrong.

The point only became clearer when Aisling turned to head down the hall. A moment later, she was running.

“Aisling!” Apple Bloom called after the nymph. Said Fae was already out of sight, the darkness surrounding her and hiding her fleeing form. Twilight reacted instantly.

Her horn lit up under her command, increasing the intensity of the light. It became almost blinding to her own eyes, and what little she could see revealed her friends shielding her eyes from the offensive glare. Swiftly satisfied, the unicorn bobbed her head forward, releasing the light from the base of her horn.

Like an arrow it flew down the hall, illuminating the pathway as it did. The rock began to glow under the command of her spell. Twilight, however, kept her mind focused on the clearly spooked nymph that had left their party, and not the ethereal carvings that now shone from the walls.

One was far more important than the other.

“C’mon!” The unicorn called as she began a gallop following Aisling’s now departed path. The echoing of clopping hoofs rapidly began to resound through the hallway.

“What just happened?!” Rainbow yelled as she easily matched her pace with Twilight. “One second she’s talking about this curse, er, seal, or whatever, then the next she’s taken off like scared doe!”

“I don’t know!” Twilight yelled back, quickening her pace. “But I’m sure whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

“It is not for the Fae for whom I am concerned.” Zecora spoke as her hooves nearly slammed into the ground with the intensity of her gallop. “But instead the state of her friend this reaction may have earned.”

Even in the midst of a heavy gallop, all the mares felt the cold dread generated by what Zecora’s words meant. If at all possible, their pace quickened.

Apple Bloom stayed mute as she clung to her sister, unable to understand what was happening, but knowing full well that whatever it was, it was something bad. Like Discord hurting her sister or Nightmare Moon or Chrysalis threatening her friends, she knew something was wrong.

“Is that a dead end?!” Applejack called from behind the herd of ponies, her eyes looking down the glowing hall.

While all eyes had seen the abrupt absence of light ahead of them, none were sure it was a dead end; not until Applejack spoke, at least. Regardless, their pace did not slow. Aisling wasn’t in front of them, and there were no paths for her to turn away from them. If there was a way out or a door down ahead of them, then they had to keep moving.

The end, however, was anything but that. The five ponies emerged from the hallway that was glowing.

Their paces slowed as their vision was overtaken by the room they entered, the walls glowing with images they had never seen, shimmering with magic Twilight didn’t believe she was responsible. Her magic was naught but a lavender hue, a single color from a large spectrum.

Across the walls shone magic auras in every color of the rainbow.

They danced over the lines that were etched into the stone, swaying through them like water in a river. They melded together, swirled into the ancient etchings and formed tints, hues, and shades of color the mares had never seen before.

“Why Ah’ll be…” Applejack weakly spoke, her eyes far too distracted to speak clearly. “It’s like it’s alive.” Twilight didn’t have enough information to say she was wrong.

There were few to no reasons other than simplicity for Twilight to attribute sentience to the near rhythmic and enchanting colors of the wall. They gave life to the reliefs, breath to the figures made of lines, and power to the long hidden art. Even if the mare hadn’t just run towards a sprint at her fastest pace, she would have been out of breath at the sights around her.

“Look,” Apple Bloom’s voice weakly called, her tiny hooves pattering over the stone floor as she moved.

Despite the colors that danced over the walls, the foal only just remained lit. The light was far too soft to be illuminating, but its lenient use of strength allowed it to instead draw attention. Twilight was only just able to draw her gaze away from the scenery to look at the foal, whose orange eyes were staring up at a different section of the wall. Apple Bloom’s hoof was outstretched, pointing towards the flowing artwork.

“Ah… Ah think that’s Aisling, ain’t it?” Twilight turned her eyes up towards the artwork the foal was indicating, an action that she did little to fight.

Sure enough, dancing with the colors over the wall was Aisling. Or, more appropriately, there was a portrait of Aisling, half hidden beneath they myriad of colors that soothed and enchanted the unicorn’s sight.

But what truly grabbed her attention was not the vibrant green or pale white of the fae, but the smooth tan of the figure standing in front of her.

“That… who is that?” Rainbow asked next to Twilight. The unicorn didn’t even notice the pegasus approach her. “Wait, it’s Brendan, isn’t it?”

“That’d be mah guess.” Applejack agreed, trotting lightly up to her sister. “Mighty young. Leaves ya wonderin’ when this was made.” She turned easily on her hooves, overlooking the aweing room of light once more. “More like when any of this was made. Gotta be older than the Everfree, Ah’d reckin.”

“Older than that would be my guess.” Zecora agreed, though her gaze was focused on a different portrait as she spoke. It was one that had not only her attention, but her breath as well. “Though each of these portraits are not like the rest. Colors that move and hues that are smooth, it does much to help the mind soothe.”

“Yeah, but… but what is all of it?” Twilight asked, unable to decide if she would upturn her lips at the beauty presented before her, or bite them because of the millions-more questions her mind was developing. “They could be telling a history, but whose history? And if it is history, then who or what keeps track of it? How is this magic being properly maintained after millennia?”

“The Ley Lines were once sealed, but the seals are no more.” Zecora spoke again, not turning towards the unicorn as she spoke. “With a gate of magic so close, this would be no chore.” Twilight found herself nodding at the words.

“I… that makes sense, but… but it still means that someone made these carvings knowing the way the magic would flow through the stone etchings, making sure that the colors weren’t just a conglomerate of displaced light. That would take… could take decades to learn.” Twilight was still looking over the walls, marveling at their work no matter how many times her eyes drifted over them. Months could pass and she would not bore of the art in this room.

“Decades to us are but seconds to the Fae,” Zecora pointed out once more. “There is nothing in this life but mist. We are here only for a short while.”

Something about the zebra’s words were off to the unicorn. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

“Zecora,” Twilight began. “Did you just… not rhyme?” The lavender unicorn turned as she spoke, feeling Rainbow do the same. When the zebra didn’t answer, she opened her mouth to speak again, but stopped when she saw that Zecora was not facing her, nor even starting to turn.

Instead, the elder of the group was staring at another section of the masterfully drawn wall, which was colored differently even with its living art. There were few colors dancing over the wall, less intricacy to its shape. But its size was immense, easily standing from the floor the to the ceiling. But what truly captured Twilight’s attention wasn’t anything that picture was, but this time, what said picture was meant to do.

This living portrait showed a familiar nymph gowned in gold, standing amongst others dressed as she and smiling proudly. It took little for her imagination to piece together what it meant.

“That’s Aisling.” Twilight didn’t leave room for question. “And that’s her… mother… and her father.”

“Carrying cloves of the king and queen.” Zecora spoke so suddenly, the unicorn almost jumped. She would have, too, if she weren’t staring still at the portrait before her. “All colored the same emerald green.”

“Hold on a second,” Rainbow spoke as if it focus her own mind. “The cloves of the king and queen? Doesn’t that make Aisling, like, a princess?” Being perfectly honest to herself, the idea had not occurred to the unicorn before her friend had spoken. It was entirely possible, and what was more, highly likely.

The sole ruler of an enchanted kingdom was escorting them. Twilight was fortunate she had been given many doses of shock today, from magical theory to Pre-Equestrian history, otherwise she would have likely buckled at the legs.

“Aisling?” The questioning name was spoken from behind the mares, faintly flowing towards them.

“Apple Bloom?” Applejack spoke her sister’s name, eyes searching the softly lighted room. It didn’t take long to find her some paces closer to the center of the area than any of its walls. But she wasn’t alone.

There was another figure in the center of the room, one that none of the mares had seen on their entry, their eyes too taken in by the living art around them. But it was only too easy to see now what it was.

Aisling was indeed at the center of the room. Her slender figure and pale hair were unmistakable even in the soft lighting of the chamber. Her form was hunched, huddled over the shape that was projecting from the floor. It was difficult to tell just what it was, as no light shone from it and barely any light reached it.

Difficult, that was, until the flowing light above them saw fit to gloss over the Fae and the figure with a brief moment of pure white light, illuminating the figure and shape. It took all but a breath’s length of time, gone as quickly as it had come, but it was more than enough for Twilight, for all of them, to see it. Aisling was indeed there, but what she was far different from the Fae they had seen only moments ago.

Her thin fingers were clutching at the shape with possessiveness, her gaunt muscles flexing as she clung to the object. Her pale mane fell behind her, hiding from view any features of her face. What she did see, however, was the shape that Aisling was holding so desperately to. It wasn’t a statue. It wasn’t a relief. It certainly wasn’t a simple block.

It was a coffin made of stone.

She heard a small gasp from behind her, and Twilight was sure it was from Zecora, the only the mare she could assuredly guess was aware of Aisling’s state. The problem was, she didn’t think either of them knew what to do.

“Aisling…” Twilight spoke in a meek voice, unsure of what to say. In the end, she didn’t know if she should say anything at all.

A creature that she had just met, someone that she already considered a friend, was huddled over and grasping at was very likely the coffin of her long-past companion. Words didn’t belong here.

“No,” Aisling whispered, her hands roaming over the stone as she spoke. The mares behind the Fae watched as she hurriedly swept her thin arms over rock coffin with ever increasing speed, with ever increasing panic.

Her form circled the lone tomb, bending ‘round the edges, jumping, and, at some moments, crawling over it as well. The long white mane that followed her swayed and whipped with her frantic movements, quickly becoming the only object by which the ponies could keep track of the nymph.

That was until she stopped.

“No no no no no no.” There was a look in her eyes that couldn’t be described. There wasn’t a state of mind that had been named yet to demonstrate just what the Fae conveyed. But with the fire behind her green irises and shallow breathing that came from her lips, Twilight believed she had two words that best described what the nymph conveyed.

Terror and Rage.

“Aisling?” Twilight cautiously spoke, fully aware of the Fae’s likely dangerous state. “What happened?”

The nymph didn’t speak, not immediately. She remained frozen still.

Her body was crouching over the tomb, her pale hair falling ungracefully over her head. It curtained her features and blanketed her body, showing only the haunting gaze of her emerald eyes. Twilight heard a small hiccup from behind, most likely from Apple Bloom. With her keen eyes, Twilight watched the nymph, doing her absolute best to ignore the haunting silence in the tomb. It did little to ease her mind. That was when she noticed something.

Aisling’s hand was scratching a portion of the tomb.

“Aisling,” Twilight tried again. “What’s missing?” The unicorn felt her skin shiver when the nymph spoke.

“The Eye.” Aisling whispered in a haunting voice. “The Eye of the beast that took my family, that took my mother, that Brendan took back. The Eye is gone.”

“The Eye of Crom?” Applejack questioned. Twilight looked back long enough to see the elder mare had a hoof wrapped around her little sister, holding the filly close. The dark tomb and positively terrifying atmosphere around them was likely doing little good for the foal’s mind.

“Whoa, wait, someone stole the Eye of that god thing?” Rainbow, unfortunately, spoke brashly as ever. “What’s that mean?”

“Brendan used the eye to seal the gate.” Aisling hauntingly spoke again. Again, Twilight could only try to not shiver. “He sealed the gate when he came back. He used the Eye and the Book to turn a place of darkness, a place of greed, into one of light. Without the Eye, darkness will come back again.”

No one liked the sound of that.

“Aisling,” Twilight turned to see Zecora speaking, her golden eyes glinting with focus as she spoke. “The eye showed beyond what was real, what could have possibly stolen this seal?”

With a shaking body, arms clutched at her sides, Aisling answered.

“The one Brendan used to it to seal. The evil that came after Crom.”

Twilight was right. This didn’t sound good at all.

“What?” she asked. “What was it?”

BEGIN

Celestia’s mind raced as she thought of what to do.

Leaving the great hall now would only rob the ponies of knowing where she was. Too often in the recent past had she been shown the error of such actions. However, remaining within what amounted to a large stone prison only served to wear down the walls of her mind.

More than once she debated sending a message to her student again, perhaps even to Spike for him to be aware of the situation, but she dismissed it. Just as she was here to keep the faith of her soldiers alive, spreading fear to her most loyal student would be only counterproductive to reaching a desirable end. Now was the time for patience, trust, and control.

Celestia had control and more than enough trust, but her patience was quickly eroding with her pacing.

Her hooves clopped across the floor continuously, her body refusing to sit on her throne until the situation was resolved. Any moment now, the guards were return with news of what had occurred, or the intruders would approach and make threats on her life. She almost hoped for the latter, but she begged for the former. The well-being of her ponies meant far more than her own life. They always did, and they always would.

A breath left her lungs as her hooves came to a stop. Celestia’s gaze rose until she stared at one of the many stained glass panels that decorated the hall. By glance alone, it was little different than the rest of the detailed works that lined the walls and illuminated the room with colors and history. It detailed an event that had occurred over hours, all in a single frame of glass.

In spite of all of the works that surrounded her, this was the only one the monarch detested. For it held memories of events she deplored to think of.

Within the panes, a representation of herself was set. Her wings were extended to their fullest and eyes white as her coat. The Element of Magic sat proudly on her head, the remaining Elements encircling her in a protective aura that was as menacing as it was aweing. The glass that made up her, the elements, and the aura about them was colored in almost every wave of light the diarch was even faintly familiar with. It was, by any measure, a work of art.

But beneath Celestia and her majestic form lay a figure that haunted her dreams, a pony whose life the diarch valued more than even her own. It was colored black, with dots of red and hues of darkened blue. It was a broken mess of a pony that could only be made out by the wiring that separated the panes of glass. One wing spread outwards and another bent inwards, and its head was fallen, caught in either shame or pain. Celestia could not recall which it was. She could not recall the emotion, but she knew the pony well.

Celestia would never forget her greatest moment of failure, that of her sister under the curse of the Miasma.

Her head bowed to avoid gazing at the glass, too ashamed to face her own actions.

“The past is a window to ourselves.”

Celestia whirled on a hoof, her wings extended and eyes focused. Her pink gaze immediately turned to the great doors down the hall, staring at them with the intensity of her years. Though the doors were open once more, none of her ponies stood between the mighty oak. That left only one possibility of who was addressing her.

But, as her pink eyes were quick to correct, it was not a who, but a what that was addressing her.

A figure unlike anything she had ever seen stared at her from across the doors, standing on its hind legs and cloaked in an outfit of red. A mane of black fell from its head, venturing past the upright form’s torso. Its eyes were unseen, and its coat barren, but its voice was colder than any wind Celestia had dared to endure. The diarch’s fur stood on end.

“Few mortals dare to stare past the frame of their own creation. Fewer still accept what they see.” The creature began to walk into the grand hall, chilling the air with its every step. Celestia stared at it with great ferocity, hoping her burning rage would warm her frigid coat.

“You are different from the steeds I passed with my entry, far different from the mounts that once roamed this land long long ago. You have… progressed since then.” Despite every venomous word the thing spoke, Celestia found herself enraptured with its speech. The words, the tone, but, more than anything else, the voice, all called to her in ways she could not fathom, terrorizing her with a voice Celestia dare not imitate.

This creature, this… monster, Celestia realized, struck true terror into her bones. Summoning the strength that came with her title, the diarch spoke to the dark form.

“Who are you?” The figure stood to its tallest before it spoke again, the phantom of a smile over its blood red lips.

“I am Macha. You are my creation. I am your god.”

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