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// Chapter 14: Daymares// Story: Sunshine and Fire// by BornIn1142//------------------------------//

Chapter 14: Daymares

There was a knock on the door of Brainy Bright's cell. Prime Minister Gelding always knocked when he came. It was just one of those peculiar things...

While the key found the rusty lock on the other side and turned, Bright got up from his cot and took a deep breath. The question of whether to stand or sit had been quite a concern for him. He didn't want to act like a trained lapdog for his captors, after all. Imprisonment was a constant struggle in trying to gauge what behaviors were defiant and what behaviors were dignified – and Bright was far from sure which he really wanted. In the end, he'd elected to do what came naturally to him, and greeting visitors while lying down was not it.

The large metal door opened with a creak, and Gelding's pale face appeared in the frame.

"Come with me," said Gelding, and turned around without entering.

Bright, momentarily disoriented, took half a step and looked around his room for anything to take with him. It was a silly, reflexive thing to do. Except for a bucket he used as a toilet, he had no possessions to leave behind. He rushed to follow Gelding, not even excited to leave. He was probably just being moved again.

When he stepped outside into the corridor, he realized that there were no guards. The Prime Minister had come for him alone, and was now staring at Bright as if daring him to do something about it.

Before he could stop it, a fantasy started to take shape in Bright's mind. He imagined attacking Gelding and making a break for it, finding a way out and taking back his freedom. The unicorn with the broken horn seemed about as sturdy as origami. Even famished and weak – and lacking much experience as a brawler – Bright was certain he could overpower and outrun the fellow.

But... no. It would have been futile. Gelding wouldn't have placed himself at risk without back-up. There must have been troops nearby that would intervene if Bright tried anything. Besides, overpowering and outrunning Gelding was only the first step, but what would he do next? What could he hope to accomplish among enemies and in territory he knew nothing about? Where would he even go?

If there was a way out of Bright's predicament, an opportunistic escape attempt wasn't it. If there was a way out of Bright's predicament... Bright didn't know what it would be.

"W-where are we going?" he asked. There was that line again – asking questions was generally not a good idea, but he felt better for taking that small chance at least.

"There are others who would question you," said Gelding.

For a moment, it seemed like he would continue on from there, say something else, but instead he simply set out along the corridor, with Bright obediently following along.

Bright had already been broken, of course, and told the Prime Minister whatever he wanted to know. Aside from an occasional beating from guards when he was slow in obeying commands, nopony had ever really gotten around to torturing him. They hadn't needed to. The hunger, along with the mere threat of pain hanging over his head at all times, had made him pliable enough. With no clocks or cycle of day and night, and with no breakfasts and dinners of prison gruel to tell the time by, Bright couldn't even tell how long he'd lasted before giving in.

He told himself it was all natural. Everypony would eventually have cracked in his situation. By withholding food, they attacked him by his most basic biological imperatives. He had to talk to survive. He'd tried to hold on, he really had, but what was the point? It wasn't as if he was really betraying anyone, or giving up anything important. All he did was answer a few simple questions about his homeworld, how he had ended up here, and who had come along with him. The straws of hay and cup of water he'd gotten in return had been worth it.

Bright hated the Prime Minister. He hated Gelding's annoying, high-pitched voice, and he hated that someone so frail could have so much power over him. It seemed like all passion had been wrenched out of the older pony like water from a wet rag, so interacting with him was not only tense and frightful but also tedious. Gelding was the face to put on all of Bright's misery.

Well, actually, he wasn't so bad. His overwhelming indifference was infuriating, but it was also a consolation. At least he didn't enjoy what he was doing, unlike some of the guards. He didn't hate Brainy Bright back. Gelding was a constant, almost reassuring, amidst bewildering changes.

Bright had gone through three different cells, each deeper and better-hidden in the bowels of the prison complex, before being moved to a different facility entirely – a private dungeon in what he believed was the ruler's palace. He'd never been put back in with the general prison population, though at one point, he'd shared a cell with another pony he was certain was a plant meant to watch him. This pony, a pegasus, had never acted hostile or tried to pry any information out of Bright, but there was something about him – a certain sharpness in his eyes – that had kept Bright from being able to sleep while in the same room as him. The time he'd spent awake had wound him into a paranoid frenzy, but they'd moved him again before anything could happen.

The walk was long, and it led them deeper underground. That was something of a surprise. Bright had assumed his dungeon was already near the bottom. He tried to keep a track of the journey, but the corridors all looked much the same.

"You're not going to try to escape?" asked Gelding dully, without looking at him.

For somepony that had gotten a start on advanced calculus back in elementary school, it took Bright a while to put two and two together.

"You want me to? To escape?"

"I wondered if you would try."

Bright was almost afraid to carry on. This casual frankness, it was something new entirely. Was it some sort of trick, a test, a new interrogation technique?

"W-why?" he asked. The stuttering was embarrassing. He tried to speak clearer. "You wouldn't let me, would you?"

"No," said Gelding, "It would be a convenient pretext to kill you."

Bright misstepped, but continued walking. There were others who wanted to question him. The Prime Minister did not want that to happen. Bright asked a question to see if he would be proven wrong.

"Why would you need a pretext to kill me?"

Gelding responded to the question he'd asked but not the question he'd intended.

"You are inconvenient. Your mind is a Pandora's box I'm not sure we should be prying into."

"Still," said Bright, "You could have me killed and... say whatever you want about how it happened. Couldn't you?"

"I'm not sure whether that would be the right thing to do," answered Gelding.

Bright almost laughed. He had to assume the Prime Minister meant that in terms of practicality and not morality. But that in itself was promising. It must have meant he was regarded not just as inconvenient, but also as potentially useful.

"Would you like me to have you killed?" Gelding now asked, almost spontaneously. It might have been some sort of sick joke, had Bright held him capable of making jokes.

"No!" he said a little too quickly, "No. Why would I want to die?"

"You're headed for an audience with Queen Celestia," replied Gelding by way of explanation, "You may come to understand all too well."

They walked on in what silence they could get. Aside from the clopping sound of their hooves, Bright found his heartbeat becoming distractingly loud. The words didn't sound like a threat, but it could well have been manipulation, an attempt to psych him out even further. But what more could the Prime Minister want from him? Why bother?

"You do not have to decide right away," Gelding went on to say. He spoke quietly anyway, but Bright really had to strain to listen now. "I don't know what your fate will be from now on, but if you change your mind, if you get word to me, I may be able to do something."

If Bright had thought this was a joke before, he no longer could have. The Prime Minister was genuinely offering to assist him in suicide. Somehow, that didn't seem funny any which way anymore. It was a different kind of absurd altogether.

"You're very merciful," said Bright. He was perhaps going for sarcasm, but it didn't come out that way. He had the impression that this really was Gelding's idea of mercy.

"There's not much I would ask from you in return," said Gelding, "You can perhaps satisfy my curiosity. I would like to know if you can keep from your next questioners not what you told me, but that you told me. I don't know if you'll be able to hide the fact that we had this conversation either, but try. If you succeed, then all the better, for both of us."

Brainy Bright considered. The Prime Minister was trying to make a deal. It all seemed to fit together with the conversations he'd heard indicating the Prime Minister wasn't supposed to have interrogated him at all. He wondered if there was a way to leverage this.

It wouldn't do to be afraid now. Bright had found the conviction to take action against Princess Celestia herself, after all. This should have been nothing in comparison. He stopped moving.

"If you want me to do something for you, then I – I need more than the promise of a clean death."

Gelding slowed down, looked over his shoulder and measured Bright with a long gaze. He didn't bother stopping, and turned to face front soon after.

"It's the only thing in my power to give you," he said, raising his voice so it echoed back to Bright.

Just like that, Bright had tried and failed. The tiny bit of influence he'd tried to exert hadn't even given Gelding pause. He was still moving, unconcerned with whether Bright followed. He wasn't even looking.

It felt obscene to make it all so easy for the Prime Minister, to just go along. Again, Bright mulled over the possibility of escape, despite the fate promised to him if he tried. He glanced back in the torchlit corridor and wondered if there was somepony there, ready to take action. Even if there wasn't, there was no hope of navigating the labyrinthine passageways on his own anyway. Eventually, he would be discovered. What would the guards do if they came across him like that?

When Gelding rounded a corner, Bright trotted after him. His eyes downcast in shame, he almost walked into the unicorn, who'd stopped and turned around after all. They were close, face to face.

"You may be thinking of telling my fellows of my request. If you're hoping for leniency, believe me when I say that honesty will avail you nothing with the Queen. She will do with you as she wills either way. If you speak out of spite, I will leave you to your fate."

Gelding continued on his way, and Bright followed. His thoughts had actually not turned in that direction, and he wasn't sure they would have. The Prime Minister was dutifully covering all the angles.

Bright didn't know where they were going, but he had a feeling they were getting there. The surroundings were starting to resemble a fine if gloomy mansion rather than a dungeon. Torches were becoming more frequent on the walls, leaving them to walk in a steady veil of firelight. In that light, a large set of double-doors was visible before them at the end of the corridor. Bright tried to keep his breathing under control. Whatever was in that chamber was bound to be unpleasant.

Before they reached the doors, however, they were ambushed, or at least greatly surprised, by a head leaning into sight from one of the side-corridors. Bright startled, while Gelding barely reacted. The head belonged to a mare with a dull pink coat and a long, straight mane of similar color. She was the first fellow earth pony Bright had seen since the prison when he was first taken in. Around her neck was a large metal band – a collar. The collar looked so rigid and tight it was surprising she was able to breathe.

"Hello!" said the earth pony when she recognized who was coming.

Gelding calmly walked up to the pink mare. As they approached, Bright saw her eyes briefly veer towards him and then flicker back and forth to see if there was anypony else around. She leaned closer to the Prime Minister. At first Bright thought she'd give him a kiss on the cheek, but she only went to whisper something in his ear.

Bright didn't get a clear look at the pink mare's cutie mark, but he saw something else of interest. Certain magical symbols were etched into her collar. The symbols were ages old, and had faded from common usage centuries ago in Bright's own world. He didn't have the chance to read much of what was written on the collar.

"Go on without me," said Gelding.

"What?"

"Go. I will come in a moment."

Hesitantly, Bright moved on towards the doors. This was a far cry from the strict watch they'd kept on him before. His face burned. It was as if he was nothing, that's how lightly they were taking him. But as ridiculous and humiliating as it was, he had no choice but to abide, did he? A much bigger concern was what he would find in that chamber, and what they would do to him...

When he pushed open the door, a blast of hot air escaped from inside. The chamber, with its giant pillars, firepits and gloom, wasn't far from what Bright had expected. His eyes were immediately drawn to the throne at the far side, which was – much to his relief – vacant at the moment.

Her Majesty was not present, but there were others in the room. A red-and-black pegasus was maniacally pacing back and forth beyond a mid-sized conference table. Sitting at the table, comfortably slouched, was a white-and-gold unicorn. This pony actually looked vaguely familiar, though Bright wasn't sure whether he was someone Bright knew in his own world, or because he looked so generically aristocratic.

Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Bright slowly started edging forward, if only to hear what the two were talking about.

"What a waste of time," the pegasus was murmuring under her breath. When the unicorn didn't respond, she repeated herself louder. "What a waste of time!"

At this, her companion made an indistinct sound of acknowledgment. The pegasus ranted on.

"They'll be making their move right now. It will be the largest battle of our lifetimes. Four hundred thousand hooves on the ground, forty thousand wings in the air. The ground will run red with griffon blood. We'll have the chance to rub out a nation that's survived for over a thousand years!" She harrumphed. "And will I be there? No! I'm stuck here with you!"

At this point, she briefly paused and turned to glower at her companion. When he failed to respond, she pushed on.

"Half the bloody battle strategy is mine! I spent months developing the air force order of battle and the encirclement plan. I should get to see it in action." Bright could hear the grinding of her teeth from half-way across the room. "I want to kill some griffons!"

It seemed there was a war on. Somehow, that didn't surprise Bright.

"The Queen wants us here, so here we are," said the unicorn.

"Oh, please!" snarled the pegasus, "The Queen doesn't care if we're here. Little miss Daylight Sparkle just wants an audience to show off to!"

"Give me a break," moaned the unicorn, "Whatever Daylight has in mind probably won't take more than a few hours. She told me she could teleport us over there later on. We'll be there for most of the invasion. Enjoy the comforts here while we still have them."

"I'm not surprised it wouldn't matter to you, you half-ass! You're just going to pop in to the command tent, do nothing for a while and then take credit for everything, but I want to be there and experience it all. I want to take part, I want to see how their first line of defense reacts as we get closer and closer, I want to see them break and... What is this?"

They had seen Bright, and took a moment to gape at him in silence. It was eerie how quickly the pegasus's mood shifted. She let out a raspy laugh.

"Oho, our guest of honor! Do you know you kept us waiting?"

Bright froze in place. The pegasus begun a casual stroll towards him, even as she turned back her head to speak to her companion.

"You know, I bet I know a way to get this dumb meeting over with right now? Heh."

There had barely been time for her to turn forward again, and for Bright to blanch at her eager smirk, when a purple figure spontaneously appeared between them. It was another unicorn, a mare with a purple star cutie mark, garbed in a white robe and pointy hat rather than the military uniform worn by the stallion. She'd teleported in. Without prompting, the small dragon that had arrived with her produced a pocket watch and held it out for her to see.

"Just in time!" she beamed after having a look.

Even though they were facing the other way, and even though he'd only met them once before, Bright recognized them well enough. It was a mirror image of Twilight Sparkle, and that of her dragon companion. They didn't even notice him to begin with.

"Duke Blueblood, Duchess Redsky, I'm very glad you were able to join me!"

This provoked a furious bout of under breath muttering from the pegasus – presumably the duchess. The duke shrugged in the background.

Twilight Sparkle's double had a look around the throne room. "Ah. This would be the subject, wouldn't it?"

She stepped closer to Bright, and in fact walked a circle around him, examining him from every angle. The sight of his cutie mark evoked a small smile and then a mild scowl. There was a distinct lack of malice emanating from this pony, but that did little to put Bright's mind at ease. She's called him a subject, and this wasn't a meeting, but a study.

"You may refer to me as Lady Commander Daylight Sparkle, earth pony," she said.

No answer was expected, but Bright tried for one anyway. This was a culture that seemed to regard earth ponies as worthless savages, so he could prove them wrong by acting polite and intelligent. Whatever her first name happened to be, Miss Sparkle was known to be a clever pony, so surely she didn't fall in line with such nonsensical racial ideology. Maybe if Bright left a good enough impression, he could even get them to release him. He told himself the notion wasn't completely ridiculous.

"How do you do?" he said, straightening his back self-consciously. He didn't think of himself as vain, but he wished he'd tried to go over his mane a little back in the cell. As it was, he probably didn't look terrible civilized.

Daylight didn't respond, though she carried on speaking. "He's showing signs of short-term malnourishment. Some lacerations and contusions, but not as many as I'd have expected. Gelding seem to have used a rather light touch. Are you taking this down, Spike?"

Her dragon was indeed scribbling Daylight's observations down on a piece of parchment.

"Hey, you!" pressed in Redsky, "Are we getting started soon? Do you know when Her Holiness will be here?"

"I'm quite sure she will be here precisely when she feels like it," said Daylight, making it sound like an admonishment.

She cocked her head to look past Bright and raised a sardonic eyebrow. Bright looked over his shoulder and saw that the Prime Minister had reached the throne room as well, surprisingly with the pink earth pony following along. Gelding came straight at them, while the pink pony slipped off to the side and approached in the shadows of the chamber's giant stone pillars.

"I am truly glad you could make it," said Daylight, "You of all ponies should find this little demonstration of mine enlightening."

Gelding as good as ignored her. He took up position close to Bright, and the only thing he said was... "She is coming."

There was a light shining from the open doorway. Something changed in the throne room.

Bright, glancing back and forth, tried to follow along how the others reacted. Blueblood got up from his chair and awkwardly stood at attention. Redsky chewed on her lip and held her breath. Gelding appeared expectedly wooden, but seemed to be pointedly looking away from the doors. Daylight Sparkle was beaming.

"She is coming," muttered Blueblood under his breath, "She is here."

"Shut up," said Redsky.

"My Queen!" whispered Daylight.

The light at the doorway was blinding by now – but it wasn't even light, but a pony. It was Celestia.

Her mane and tail were fire.

The cloak of flames curled on her back and lazily billowed forth behind her; its movements were easy and languid, more like calm waves at sea than a furious conflagration. Every single sliver of shadow in the throneroom was eradicated when she entered. The light she cast wasn't gloomy, reddish firelight, but bright and clear like summertime air. Her countenance did more than glow. Queen Celestia was not radiant, but radiance.

She didn't look so different from her mirror image. Bright had never been more keenly aware that Celestia was a mutant, freakishly large and disturbingly spindly, unnatural and supernatural, an impossible crossbreed that defied the laws of the universe. She was unicorn, pegasus and earth pony, but she might well have been a child of swans and spiders. Everything unique to the Queen was magnificent, and nothing she shared with common ponies was common. She was beautiful beyond comprehension.

Her body was perfect ivory, as solid and powerful as it was lean and elegant. Even half-folded, her wings – angelically soft by their looks – were enormous. She took slow steps, but moved swiftly on long legs. Her golden horseshoes trod the ground without a sound, and her crown rested on a horn that ended with a point sharper than any spear.

As the Queen approached, she smiled, and looked them over all with kindly serenity in misty white, pupilless eyes.

"I hope I haven't keep you waiting," she said, "With the day being so perfectly beautiful and sunny, I just had to go out for a walk. I do so love to spend time with my little ponies, and yet I rarely get the chance to do it. Whenever I feel like I need a break, I usually go out on the town in an inconspicuous guise, to keep watch of what our good citizens are up to and to teach them some basic truths about the reality of their lives. It's a wonderful exercise in enlightenment. If the occasion is special enough, if a pony intrigues me enough, I might even show them who I really am..."

Bright, so engrossed by her appearance, hadn't even noticed every other pony present falling to their knees. Alone left standing, Celestia's gaze naturally came to rest on him. Breathing heavily, sweating and wide-eyed – he imagined he looked rather pathetic. He tried and failed to swallow when she approached him. All his instincts screamed at him to try to escape, but he already knew that would be futile, and could not move or even look away in any case.

"Of course, it is just as well to have guests brought to meet me. Nothing is quite the same as making a new friend, is it?"

The Queen stopped only inches away. She craned down her neck and leaned over him. Bright fell down on his haunches, and stopped bending backwards only when he could go no further without keeling over. The Queen took his breath away. She may well have literally taken his breath away, by burning the oxygen around him. He shuddered, and he couldn't stop shuddering. His discomfort shook him in an uncontrollable spasm, as if he was caught in intense cold rather than unpleasant warmth.

"What's your name?" Subtle wisps of white smoke blew from her mouth as she spoke.

"M-my name is B-Brainy Bright."

"Mmm. I like it. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Celestia was so close their noses were almost touching, and Bright realized that she did not breathe. There was no movement to her but the rippling of her flames – and the corners of her mouth drawing further back to reveal rows of perfect teeth. It was not a smile anymore, but a grin. Bright wondered what she was looking for in him to make her stare like that. He was struck with an insane yet irresistible compulsion to lean forward himself.

Before he could give in, Celestia abruptly turned around and stepped away. Bright yelped in pain when her cloak of fire almost touched him, and threw himself to the floor to get clear.

"Ah, but it wouldn't do to neglect old friends in favor of new ones," said Celestia, "I will always appreciate your service, my honored councilors."

The others in the room were as quick to rise as they were to kneel. The Queen greeted them warmly, truly more like friends or family members than subjects. Each received a personal sign of favor from Celestia: a hug for Daylight Sparkle that the unicorn hardly wanted to release her from, a cup of the cheek for the smugly smiling Duchess Redsky and a pat on the head for the Prime Minister, who remained as stoic as ever. In the case of Duke Blueblood, now not so lackadaisical anymore, Celestia parted his blond bangs to reveal a sickening burn scar, which she caressed as tenderly as if she was dressing a baby. Even the pink pony, peeking out from behind a pillar with only half a face and a fringe of hair visible, received a gracious wave from the Queen, and immediately receded from sight.

Celestia kept moving even after she finished her wordless welcomes. Instead of taking a seat at the table, she circled around towards the throne at the far end of the room, but she didn't sit down there either. There was something eerie about how noiselessly she moved. She seemed to float like a lifeless spirit rather than walk like a flesh-and-blood pony. Everypony else had to follow her. Bright was forced to follow as well, by a telekinetic snare cast by Daylight Sparkle that dragged him forward and deposited him before the throne, where he remained beneath notice at the center of attention.

Daylight stared at the Queen rapturously. She took half a step forward and looked like she was getting ready to speak up, but held off when Celestia noticed the movement and turned to look at her. Celestia kept up a stare for a few silent seconds, then suddenly cocked her head towards Duchess Redsky instead.

"Does something trouble you, my dear?"

Redsky frowned in confusion. "Not at all, Your Grace."

"Are you sure? You seem so restless to me."

"Maybe a little. I'm eager to get out there and, heh, do my duty for your happiness and the glory of Equestria."

"Ah, that is commendable. But you know what? I've been feeling terribly lonely lately. At first I wasn't sure why, but then I remembered that all my beloved ladies in waiting seem to have died of old age, so I have nopony to chat with these days. That's the sad lot of an immortal. I think it would make me much happier if you stayed with me for a little while to keep me company. I feel like we've drifted apart. Wouldn't it be nice if we spent the next few weeks getting to know each other a little better? Yes, I think it would be."

Redsky's only response was a blank stare and a quiet gurgling noise from the bottom of her throat. Celestia watched her, still smiling, then snapped her gaze to Duke Blueblood.

"And what about you? Are you feeling restless as well?"

Blueblood licked his lips. "Er, I wouldn't really say so."

"Bored perhaps?"

"I don't know..." he ventured in return.

"That's sad. I know this must be all so very tedious for you, stallion of action that you are. You always try so hard to get noticed, but despite your distinguished service record and the honors given to you, you've somehow never had the chance to prove your mettle in battle. I thought I'd put you in charge of a front-line battalion that will be moving to engage in just a few hours. That should show anypony calling you a coward, hmm? I'll make make sure you get there as soon as we're done here. Think of it as my gift to you."

Blueblood's mouth moved as if he was voicing protestations, but no sound came out. After a few seconds, he hung his head and stopped. Celestia observed every twitch of muscle on his face.

"May I say something, my Queen?" asked Daylight Sparkle, evidently unable to contain herself any longer.

"Of course," said Celestia graciously.

"I have some wonderful news for you!" burst out Daylight, "I couldn't resist one more test run of my new spell in the dungeons, and discovered a member of the Apple Underground among our prisoners. I know where their headquarters is! I'll have plans for an attack on your desk within 12 hours, Your Grace."

Blueblood and Redsky each raised a curious highbrow, and the pink pony gasped from somewhere out of sight. Even Gelding's lips parted slightly, which meant as much for him as somepony else's jaw dropping. The Queen's expression did not change. Her face was like an alabaster mask.

"My oh my," she said, "Exemplary work, Daylight! Every time I raise the bar in consideration of your achievements, you exceed my expectations all over again! You're so much better than that stodgy old doormat that preceded you – you've done more in a few months than he accomplished in centuries! Why, Daylight, you're simply the best!"

Daylight's pleased smile faded more and more the longer Celestia sang her praises. Where an ordinary pony would have had to pause to draw breath, the Queen could go on as long as she wanted. She never sounded less than sincere, until she stopped. It was the silence that brought the sarcasm.

"Is that what you wanted to hear, Daylight?" Celestia asked at last.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace?" said Daylight. Bright could have sworn her lip was quivering.

"Honestly, how much credit can you really expect for stumbling across crucial information by accident?"

The Prime Minister cleared his throat. "The prisoners in the dungeons would already have been interrogated and this information discovered had Lady Commander Daylight been less distracted from her duties."

"Indeed?" One of Celestia's eyebrows rose fractionally to indicate displeasure. "How disappointing."

"I- I thought you'd be pleased with me," said Daylight, suddenly looking very young and very small.

"But that's just it, Daylight," said Celestia with obvious worry in her voice, "Sometimes, I feel like you do everything only to please me and to hear me praise you, and that you don't even really believe in what you're doing."

"I – I do! I do believe, Your Grace!"

"Are you sure?"

"I believe in everything you believe in! I love my work and I wouldn't give it up for anything!"

"I'm glad to hear that." She really sounded relieved. "Let's go on to do some of that work now, shall we? Show me what your magic can do. Tell me who this pony is."

Daylight nodded. She marched up to Bright and stood in front of him like her mistress had, but the effect wasn't quite the same. Up close, it was very visible that she had to work hard to keep it together. Nevertheless, there was a grim determination in her eyes, and Bright held his breath in terrified expectation.

She touched the tip of her horn to Bright's forehead and – and the world melted away around them. It melted, faded, dispersed and vanished, leaving them in an endless white space, with no borders, horizons or lines in sight. Bright backed away from Daylight, and she allowed him to do so. He looked down and found he was standing on nothing. There was no sense of distance to give him vertigo.

"We're inside your mind, earth pony," said Daylight.

"I thought there would be more stuff in here," said Bright drily. Considering the circumstances, he felt like the epitome of daring and wit.

She smiled at that. It started almost reflexively, but quickly took on a very polite and formal look. Bright was surprised she would waste any etiquette on him. Perhaps she was trying to emulate her mistress, but her expression was a far cry from Celestia's half-lidded, self-assured pleasure.

"Oh, there would be quite a lot in here," she explained, "That's actually the trouble. The average pony has a brain positively stuffed with information, most of which is irrelevant at best and completely inane at worst. Extracting information from somepony indiscriminately would be a very bad idea, so I've developed a spell to sift through individual memories. I don't expect you to understand what that entails, but believe me, what we're doing here is quite revolutionary."

Bright did understand. Telepathy had never been his chosen field, but he'd read enough papers on it to be familiar with its premises and problems. The fact that he never had to worry about studying spells in practice meant his theoretical knowledge ran far and wide. Obviously, neither of them was, at the present moment, real. They must have been some sort of mental manifestations. Still, even understanding that, the sight of Daylight Sparkle producing a notepad and quill similar to the ones her dragon had been using from nowhere and holding them aloft with her magic came off as notably weird.

"Is that some sort of mnemonic device?" asked Bright warily.

"Oh, very good!" said Daylight, though her compliment came with raised eyebrows, "It's not actually a notepad, just a psychological projection I can use to retain information at a subconscious level. But enough of that. We should get to the point."

That struck Bright as an odd thing to say. Whatever information Daylight Sparkle was hoping to extract from him, she'd never even tried to get it by asking for it. Bright didn't think he would resist. Instead of interrogating him, she had moved straight to invading his thoughts. As far as Bright could tell, it was the spell and not he that really mattered here.

"What is the point?" he asked, "I don't even know what you want from me."

"Let's start with the obvious." There was a violet glow in Daylight's eyes. "Show me how you arrived here."

Bright felt like something grabbed a hold of his thoughts and yanked. He staggered to the side, without weight or gravity to unbalance him. His mind spilled out into the world like liquid. It wasn't quite painful, but it wasn't pleasant either.

The first thing he conceived was ego – himself. A copy of him appeared beside him and Daylight Sparkle, but it was a hideously incomplete copy. Rather than a real pony, it looked like a half-finished outline filled in haphazardly with the golden color of his coat. It had no face, only the suggestion of a head and blank patches of nothingness on its back and legs. Bright took an unintended step back when he saw it. Worse still was realizing what he was seeing – a very literal self-image, all the bits of himself he could see without a reflection.

The empty white void around them became a canvas for his memory. Bright's ego began walking. In the blink of an eye, a world of black shadows and orange-gold torchlight took form around it. The scene they found themselves in was one Bright had just experienced a few minutes ago – his walk to the throne room accompanied by the Prime Minister. Yet his memory of those moments, which he'd lived through such a short time ago, was profoundly imperfect. This was only a recording of his senses, influenced by his state of mind. Everything in the ego's direct line of sight was drawn in oily realism, while the edges of its vision devolved into blurry watercolors. Where ever it wasn't looking, only fading sketches remained. The result was an entire world shifting along with its gaze in a disorienting phantasmagoria. The only thing clearly visible was Gelding's pale form up ahead – the focus of Bright's attention.

Bright felt a stab of pain in his temples. He wasn't sure whether that was because of the reams of information he was forced to recall, or because of the unnatural visual environment that he didn't know how to process. Instinctively, he looked down at the patch of stone floor to give his eyes a rest, and saw that small hoofprints of synesthetic texture remained behind where his ego's steps fell.

"I didn't mean the throne room!" said Daylight indignantly, incongruously visible amidst the shadows of memory, "Show me how you came to this world."

In an instant, the canvas was painted over with a new memory.

Color drained away in a flash, and Bright's ego almost disappeared in a gleam of light so powerful it made a real place look almost like the empty void from earlier. This was the empty street he'd found himself in after falling through his magic mirror, and the scene was that of his arrest. Vague white architecture was around him, and the silhouettes of two ponies approached up ahead. Everything was blurry and diffusive; even less remained of this memory than the last. Bright had been too addled by the trauma of his journey, too concerned with the enormity of his actions and too blinded by the sunshine to retain much of his surroundings. Yet even now, he was acutely aware of the heat he'd felt back then, and wondered if Daylight could feel it as well. If she did, she gave no indication of it.

"No, that's not it," she said, "Where were you before this?"

The next memory, by contrast, was etched out for them to see in painstaking and painful detail. It was Brainy Bright's exhibition at the Tower of the Horizon in Canterlot, on the last day of his old life. Vast as the moment had been, with a crowd of hundreds laid out before him on the roof of the tower to witness his greatest work, he remembered it all. There were little touches of unreality to it all, as the other towers of Canterlot were nothing more than outlines amidst the deep blue sky and the buzzing of conversation was somehow a little too garbled and indistinct, but the ponies themselves were clear and crisp. One pony took up more of his attention than anypony else, but Bright made sure to keep a careful watch of all that was going on. Though his gaze always returned to the seat of honor where Princess Celestia lay waiting, it scanned the crowds every few seconds, making particular note of the guards where-ever they stood, looking for anything that might interfere with his plans. This was a moment Bright would bring with him to his grave.

Daylight Sparkle had a look around. Perhaps rather naturally, the first thing that caught her attention was her own counterpart. She stepped up to where Twilight Sparkle was sitting and looked herself in the face. She also spared a glance for Princess Luna – but only a glance. Ultimately, it was Princess Celestia she focused on. She didn't look but stared. She didn't glance but absorbed. Celestia's aurora mane engrossed her especially, but she examined every bit of her, and crawled as close to Celestia as she could.

Bright himself found somepony else of interest. One of Twilight Sparkle's friends looked exactly like the pink earth pony in Queen Celestia's throne room. Though brighter in hue, much more cheerful in attitude, and possessing somewhat fluffier hair, they were undoubtedly the same pony. Daylight didn't even notice the similarity. If Bright remembered correctly, her name was Pinkie Pie. He wondered what this could have meant. Were the Elements of Harmony a factor in both worlds, or was it some sort of coincidence? What were the odds that these two ponies, Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle, would be acquainted in such wildly different environments?

Time did not stand still in the memory. Neither Bright nor Daylight paid attention to the speech in the background. When things finally came to a head, it was a surprise to both of them. Bright's ego took action, just as it was always going to happen. Now at long last, everything but the Princess herself blurred, and all sound on the rooftop faded away. Bright watched his ego and his mirror-door go hurtling towards Celestia. A flash of magic engulfed them all. It had felt like an eternity back then, perhaps that's why everything seemed to move so slowly.

"No, no, no," said Daylight, "Go back."

The scene reset. Everything was peaceful again, like it had been a few minutes ago. There was a buzzing noise at the back of Bright's head. It was hard to focus on what was going on.

This time, Daylight dragged her eyes away from the Princess and turned to the dais where Bright's ego and his crew bustled, and to the device that they were bustling with. She leapt on top of the dais and put her quill and notepad to use taking down various observations about the portal and its assembly. Doing so, she couldn't possibly miss Bright's ego giving instructions to his unicorn assistants.

"Who invented this?" she asked Bright.

"I did," he admitted.

"That's not possible," she said shaking her head, but it was only token resistance.

Daylight watched his past self finish the preparations and make the introduction to the proceedings with stone-faced fascination. It was impossible to say how much of what was going on she could actually understand so lacking in context. When the time came for Bright's ego to make his move yet again, she lowered her notepad and narrowed her eyes. The look she gave Bright himself afterward, once the memory had looped around again, held a new sense of contempt, one that almost invited him to turn away in shame. In Daylight Sparkle's world, this may well have been the greatest of all crimes. Was he not, after all, a criminal, and she the law? Bright felt a twitch of outrage in his chest. Where the hell did she get off judging him? He sneered, and made sure to face up to her scrutiny.

Having free reign of his mind, there were a number of directions Daylight could take in her explorations. She threw back her head pondering, perhaps not sure herself. The fact that her aims were still so hazy to Bright only incensed him further. When she finally reached a decision, she pointed a hoof at Princess Celestia.

"I want to know who she is and what she does."

Bright hadn't thought to resist until now. When he tried, it didn't really seem to make much of a difference. He could think of nothing but storybook ideas of telepathic warfare, like emptying his mind and doing calculus for diversion, which did nothing to halt the flow of memories but only made his headache worse.

Daylight returned to even ground with him in the new memory. The dais underneath her hooves had disappeared, but another platform had risen up some distance away. Around them was an impressionist vision of a field outside Canterlot before dawn. Dabs of spring greens in the trees and grass were visible under the early morning's veil of gray. This was a very early memory, and not much of it remained. They were among a crowd of ponies here as well, but these were nothing more than shades. Bright's ego was a tiny phantom amidst them. His older sister was there too, though barely recognizable. He felt a stab of grief and regret over how little he remembered of her.

True to his memories, Bright never saw Celestia appear on the platform, but he heard the sound of horns that heralded her coming, and the explosion of light that followed was unmistakable. All those present could bask in the golden glow of the finest of sunrises. Everything else from this moment in Bright's earliest years may have been faded, but Celestia was eternal. Though far away, she was there in clear and detailed perfection. Having assured her subjects of the passing of time and the continued operation of the world, she touched down and went to greet them, to talk to them, and to grant what favors she could.

It had been Brainy Bright's first Summer Sun Celebration, and thus also his first memory of Princess Celestia. Perhaps that's why they were here. He felt annoyed with his subconscious. This one moment could not possibly represent the political and economic complexities of Celestia's Equestria, nor did it encompass Bright's opinion of the Princess nowadays. He'd never even gotten close enough to hear her speak.

Bright turned to look at Sparkle Daylight and found her wide-eyed with shock and confusion. Even a little bit of panic might have started to shine through, but Daylight worked against it to regain a facade of professional curiosity. She scrunched up her mouth and wrote something in her notepad.

"What was that?" she finally asked of Bright.

"What was what?"

"That peculiar darkness."

She expected an answer. It seemed Daylight's magic worked mostly for episodic memory, with little to no insight into semantic memory. Bright supposed that made sense.

"Night," he said, "It wasn't even proper night, just... twilight."

"Oh yes."

Bright wasn't sure if these words actually meant something to her, or whether she was just acting that way.

"And what would be a proper night?" she continued.

The pressure in Bright's head intensified. He had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to bear it. He didn't even remember to resist until it was already too late. Daylight paid him no mind, but watched the sun melt away from the horizon.

Everything that was gold before was now black. The darkness was not complete, for there were lamps around, lone city lights in the distance, a canopy of stars in a sky as cloudless as they only came in summertime, and a prominent full moon to boot, but it was certainly a proper night. Up above, the Mare in the Moon beckoned. This was a moment from shortly before Luna's return, almost two decades later than the last memory they'd visited.

It was the night Brainy Bright had celebrated getting his first higher degree, and the publication of his thesis. They were on the rooftop of Bright's favorite pub and hangout, him and a dozen or so of his friends that had stuck around this late. They'd been forced to retire to the roof due to a mix-up with the reservations, but this had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The night had been lovely, with perfect weather and the echoes of a string quartet from an open-air concert in a nearby park setting the mood earlier in the evening. The roof was littered with empty wine bottles and withered blocks of salt, but among those that had stayed, the party was still going strong – if it could be called a party anymore.

Why this night of all nights? Was Daylight Sparkle guiding him into particular experiences, or was the choice Bright's after all?

Even though they were all buzzed if not outright drunk, the talk was quite serious at this point. They were uninhibited enough to say things they might otherwise not have said. Celestia was one of the main subjects. Not all those present were earth ponies, but all of them were in their own ways Brainy Bright's philosophical confederates.

Horsepower talked about the trouble he'd had putting his name forward for the Royal Guard and how little faith he had in being accepted – all of which he attributed to being an earth pony. Knelling Bell, born and raised in Las Pegasus, talked about the local governor, who was set to take enough votes for a third term on the basis of taxation and spending policies that ran counter to the Princess's national proposals. The proclamations made by Celestia's cabinet were always called proposals, but they were always meant to be followed implicitly. Rainy Days remembered a study his economics professor was doing that seemed to indicate limiting Equestria's farming subsidies only to earth pony enterprises might have been limiting overall growth, though nopony quite knew how to fit this into a relevant context.

Papyrus, an expert on history and magical theory who knew as much as anypony of the ancient magics unicorns had once used to move celestial bodies, made a convincing case for his suspicion that Celestia had intentionally suppressed knowledge of these magics centuries ago. If that idea was feasible, then what about all the other so-called conspiracy theories people had leveled against her? Some believed that Saddle Arabia's current royal family was only in power due to a coup engineered by Celestia – was that really out of the question? There had always been rumors that she had provoked the reindeer declaration of war in the last century – could they not be true as well? Many suspected that she'd sabotaged the Constitution of 750 and caused the dissolution of Equestria's last parliament – was that so unbelievable?

Doorstopper retold the legend of Nightmare Moon and they all mulled over what historical basis it might have had, how the real story of a power-grab in ages past could have been distorted over time into a propagandistic fairytale meant to reinforce and legitimize Celestia's reign. Many of them thought being imprisoned on the moon forever would have been far too harsh a punishment anyway – if it had really happened. Somepony even drew a few chuckles with the old joke that the Princess didn't actually move the sun, but only took credit for the planet's supposed natural revolution.

Beyond politics and pseudo-politics, they also had a chance to discuss the Princess's character. Wasn't she just a little too perfect? Didn't she seem to be trying a little too hard? Hat Trick mentioned that his aunt and uncle had met Celestia at some social function a short while ago, where she'd acted haughty and distant and above it all. She was apparently a bit of a bitch, he said with a sheepish smile. Rainy Days remembered all sorts of gossip about cruel pranks she'd played on others, as well as whispers of the illegitimate children she was supposed to have had. That was just what he'd heard, he said with a shrug. Melony argued that it didn't matter whether Celestia was a good pony or even a good princess, but only whether she had the divine right to rule. In Melony's opinion, she did not.

Somepony – Bright didn't remember who, so he only appeared as a smirk visible in the shadows – remarked on how much time Celestia spent with little children, and how close she appeared to be with some of her students. Nopony responded, but the silence itself, the idea that people even had to wonder, spoke volumes.

They talked about democracy a lot – the ideals, the practicalities, the historical precedents. Knelling Bell insisted that she would vote for her governor on a national level, if she could. Melony agreed. Papyrus didn't, but got to thinking whom he would vote for if given the chance. It was hard not to wonder why they couldn't choose their ruler.

Throughout it all, Bright himself, for the most part, stayed quiet and listened, only intervening occasionally with a factoid about demographics or a citation from some paper he'd read. He absorbed everything put forward while also recognizing that a great many things were left unsaid, especially about the security and prosperity she had provided for her subjects, and the efforts and sacrifices she'd made for the sake of Equestria. He didn't necessarily agree with all the opinions he heard, but this was the night that struck home that he wasn't alone in asking these kinds of questions about his homeland.

The conversation went on into the early morning. Words like "dictatorship" or "tyrant" were never mentioned, but the implications hung so heavy in the air that they were obvious to everypony. This was only the first such conversation the group was to have, and subsequent meetings saw those words said out loud as well.

In hindsight, irony was a vicious thing.

Daylight, though initially busy being fascinated by the surrounding darkness, could not help but listen in to all this. She attended the conversation mostly with perplexity, and eventually with disturbing coolness. Her lips curled downward until they could go no further. Bright realized that any chance he'd entertained of gaining Daylight Sparkle's respect was already dead. This pony was not primarily a scholar, but an enforcer for the very ruler he'd betrayed. Then again, Twilight Sparkle would probably have been no more disposed to give him any breaks after what he'd done either.

Bright shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. "Aren't you curious why I did it?" he asked.

"I can guess," said Daylight right away, "Envy, ignorance and mindless anger. You did it because you're insignificant, and Celestia is the greatest exemplar of your insignificance."

Bright's mind betrayed him. Though Daylight had asked no question, the setting shifted once more. Even she looked surprised by that, and immediately started scratching something into her notes.

Mellow pastels circled around them and took the shape of Bright's classroom in elementary school. The room was filled with people that had once seemed so important – his first best friend, his first crush, his first academic rival – but were now nothing but names and faces that time had worn all emotion from. He hadn't thought about them for years.

This was a time well before he'd come up with a cutie mark for himself. It was an early afternoon, and they had some time to kill before the end of the school day after going through their curriculum, so the teacher had decided to finish up with a casual discussion about what they all wanted to become when they grew up. Even at a young age, Bright had held that sort of thing to be a waste of time; he'd much rather have kept studying. His little ghostly ego slumped in his seat. With how much his mind had wandered while his classmates talked, he now remembered nothing of what they'd said.

What about you, Brainy Bright? the teacher had asked at last, What would you like to be?

He hadn't really been paying attention. He'd said the first thing that came to mind.

A unicorn.

All of them laughed. The whole classroom laughed. They laughed forever and ever. Even the teacher laughed, though he masked it by coughing. Nopony meant anything bad by it. None of them had been cruel, and none of them had been bullies. They laughed simply because he'd said something profoundly silly.

Bright sat down and buried his face in his hooves, only partly from the shame of living through one of the most embarrassing moments of his life a second time. Each giggle and guffaw buzzed uncomfortably in his throbbing head. He started to wonder how bad it might get. This procedure was apparently novel and experimental, after all. Could it cause long-term damage? Was this pain even "real?"

He lowered his hooves and hesitantly looked up at Daylight. She was smirking at what she'd seen and the validation it had given her, inattentive of his suffering.

Maybe it was the pain and the constant buildup of stress, or maybe it was the dreamlike unreality of these memories, but Bright's resentment was starting to exceed his caution. He wanted to hurt Daylight right back.

"If I'm being quite honest," he said quietly, "you're not much compared to your mistress either."

Daylight maintained her composure, but the way her nostrils flared and her mouth drew into a thin line told Bright he'd hit a nerve.

"For your information," she replied testily, "Her Grace has told me that she foresees a great destiny for me. She said I had the potential to become like her. With proper study and training, I could leave ordinary equinity behind to become something divine – that's a chance you'll never get."

"You think a pair of wings will make you her equal?"

"Shut up."

Bright wasn't willing to take it any farther, so he did shut up. The tiny sliver of satisfaction he got from her cutting him off had to do.

Daylight tapped the end of her quill against her jaw, perhaps in thought about how to go on. The direction she took was like a slap in the face for him.

"Show me how you invented that device from before."

All of a sudden, everything was so very clear to Bright. In his mind was everything Daylight Sparkle would have needed to recreate his portal and to open a path back to his home. The idea, and the unfathomable implications thereof, chilled him to the bone.

Although he now had a much better reason to resist than mere spite, he had no more success at it. He tried once more to suppress his thoughts, to focus on anything but his work on interdimensional travel, but he felt himself failing. Whether it was because Daylight's magic was too strong or he was too weak, he did not know. Perhaps the effects of the spell were a certainty and resisting was simply not possible. Thoughts spilled out of him and dripped pain as they came.

Something was taking form around them. The architecture of Bright's study in his Canterlot apartment faded in as if sliding closer from a great distance. It was night and candles were burning, but there was neither light nor shadow in the room. Most of the walls and furniture were clearly distinguishable and detailed yet out of focus, remembered not necessarily from his particular moment but from countless observations across a number of years. The used wooden armchair, the alphabetized bookshelf, the rug covered in cat hair, the flowery wallpaper fit for a granny – all of it was as familiar to him as anything.

Daylight immediately homed in in Bright's ego, who was sitting at his desk writing. This was the night when he'd finally completed his plans for the portal, but it was not a special night. The first draft had been done months ago, with a lot of time put down on triple-checking the theories, running over the math again and confirming his conclusions, and half the work – construction – still lay ahead.

All that work made for a lot of data. Bright had a blackboard with sketched diagrams covering one entire side of the study, dozens of books that had informed his work, a number of enormous manila folders containing schematics and reams of texts, as well as innumerable smaller notes lying around with scattered thoughts. Much of his writing would have been in shorthand, and all of it completely incomprehensible without the proper background in magical theory.

Daylight bit her lip and considered. She put her quill to paper, but clearly didn't know where to start.

"I guess your notepad isn't big enough," said Bright, too deadpan to be called smug.

She didn't react at first. Bright thought she hadn't heard him, or was ignoring him, but a few seconds down the line, she lowered her quill and looked at Bright with the utmost seriousness.

"This is, what, your life's work? It's nothing. You think I mind doing some reading? I'll take a week or two at most to figure it all out. Picking through your brain is going to be a hobby, a diversion, something to do in between real work. How does that make you feel?"

She let the question hang long enough for Bright to come to terms with an answer, even if he wouldn't and couldn't say it out loud. It was only a minor relief that Daylight put away her quill and notepad in the ensuing awkward silence. Whatever the project was to be, she wasn't willing to go in-depth with it just yet. In light of what she'd just said, being too eager for his knowledge wouldn't have come across right.

Daylight stepped back over to him, with a new violet glow in her eyes. The memory was already fading.

It was over in a flash; they were back in the throne room. Bright stumbled and almost fell again. He'd taken his headache back with him into the real world. His eyes stung from lack of blinking, and he was, for some reason, out of breath. For a time, he couldn't tell up from down. Daylight had already walked away from him. With his ears still ringing, Bright saw rather than heard her brief the Queen about what she'd seen in his mind. The sight of them blurred from tears welling up in his eyes.

The truth was that Daylight Sparkle was probably right. She could figure out the magical technology in his portal given time; there was nothing he could do to stop her. They would make his invention into a weapon. It wasn't as if he'd never considered that it could be abused – he'd been the first to abuse it himself, after all – but he'd never foreseen something like this. All the responsibility would be his. Each thought of escape he had and each notion of a solution that went through his mind seemed more hopeless than the last, until there was well and truly nothing left. The Prime Minister's offer didn't seem so unthinkable now...

He hung his head. Some of Celestia and Daylight's conversation seeped through to him. He heard Celestia say she was looking forward to meeting herself. Daylight said something about sending out out troops to look for "them." It was hard to concentrate. Once the pain and disorientation abated a little, tried to listen in more.

"You've been a very clever pony, Daylight. It's a fine spell you've invented."

"Thank you, Your Grace! I think it will prove to be much more efficient than our traditional means for extracting information. Plus, with some tweaking, it could have interesting applications in other fields, like psychotherapy and education. Perhaps we'd even be able to go beyond reading minds to influencing them! It's such a waste to execute a rebel when we could just ensure their obedience instead..."

She fell silent. Bright glanced up to see the reason why. Celestia had raised her hooves and enclosed Daylight in a hug.

"Oh, Daylight," she said, "at least you're trying."

Daylight didn't get the chance to comment on that. Bright looked away again when Celestia glanced in his direction.

"What do you make of him?" asked the Queen.

"A very promising subject. Give me a few weeks to work with – no, just a few turns – and I can tell you all his secrets! I'll be able to build you an interdimensional portal! It will be easy!"

"No, I don't think that will be necessary."

Bright could tell the Queen was approaching by the glow at the edge of his vision. He didn't want to look up. Suddenly, he was yanked off the floor and left floating in mid-air. Celestia's telekinetic field was exquisite; Bright could feel nothing from the golden aura holding him aloft, no pressure or weight. She raised him up so he had no choice but to look at her face, framed by flame.

"Why go through all the effort, when there's an easier way? Have you even considered simply asking for his cooperation?"

Even though he was several hooflengths above the floor, Celestia towered over him. She raised a hoof and ran it through his sweat-drenched mane, idly combing together strands of hair. Bright's gaze flickered back and forth between her blank white eyes and the sea of heat and hurt encroaching on him.

"Oh... What was your name again?" She cocked her head to one side quizzically.

"Brainy Bright," he said through gritted teeth.

"Won't you please build me a doorway to other worlds, Brainy Bright?"

"No," said Bright, to prove to himself he could.

Celestia sighed theatrically, but her smile was undaunted. "Why not?"

Why not indeed? How could he possibly sum up all the reasons not to, all the fears of catastrophes and calamities, all the ways that would be a terrible idea on both a personal and a universal level?

"You're evil," he said.

"Oh, you wound me!" said Celestia, "You might at least do me the justice of saying I am the greatest evil of all."

She circled around so she was standing beside him, to his right, rather than opposite him. Bright didn't dare follow her movements, so the touch on his back made him flinch. The strokes came slowly and softly. She was patting him down. What should have been a calming motion only wound Bright up tighter.

"What would you like to be?" she asked right at his ear, in a voice that was not her own, "A unicorn. Oh, that was precious!"

Bright hadn't realized the Queen had been following along the journey through his mind. Judging by the glimpse of a shocked Daylight Sparkle he caught further away, she hadn't been aware of it either.

Celestia leaned against him. Bright tried to squirm away to avoid the fire in her mane, but he was helpless in immobility. He didn't feel pain yet, but a terrible suggestion of pain in his every cell. His heart thundered.

"I could make you a unicorn, you know," Celestia whispered, "All of nature's gifts are mine to give."

"Really?" asked Bright, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"Really," said Celestia.

"Gifts are free," he mumbled in response.

"Oh, would my price be too dear for you?"

Bright did not answer, but pressed out another question. So far, his fears regarding the portal were supposition and imagination. He wanted to understand what he was fighting against so that it might give him strength.

"What would- what would you do with a doorway to other worlds?"

Celestia nuzzled into his neck, eliciting a moan from Bright. "I would take you back home, my little lost stallion. I would let you watch while I burn your home to the ground and make your friends and neighbors into cattle."

The answer didn't give Bright strength. He could see it all so vividly in his mind's eye he nearly sobbed. "Why? Why would you do that? Why would you do any of this? Why?"

"Why?" asked Celestia, and laughed, "You would ask me why?" There had been nothing but warmth and good cheer in her voice so far. Only now did her tone take on a harder edge, an unfathomable bitterness, and only for a brief moment. "I am evil, aren't I?"

"I won't do it."

"Oh, you will. I love my Equestria very much, but one world just isn't big enough for one such as I. I've seen most anything there is to see and done most anything that can be done. An eternal being could only be satisfied by infinity. There's an entire multiverse out there waiting to be discovered, so many new friends to make..."

"No!"

Bright twitched when he felt something hot and wet on his neck. He couldn't understand what that was, until Celestia came back into view. She was licking across his cheek until her tongue brushed against his lips. Bright gasped for breath but found none. He couldn't see smoke, but he could taste it.

Celestia pressed her snout to his and looked him in the eye. A slight tingling sensation on his cheek blossomed into pain, and the pain worked itself up to agony. It got worse and worse and worse, all the more troubling for the fact that he could not move or see what was happening. He imagined a scar on his face – a necrotic hole. He imagined acid eating through his skin and flesh. Had Celestia permitted it, he would have screamed.

"You are mine," said Celestia, "and you will do as I please. You will build me that portal. Nopony else will do it for you."

Bright could not think clearly from the pain, nor even remember the syllable he needed. Even when he remembered, he could not say it out loud. He was afraid to shake his head, knowing she was so close next to him, as close as two ponies could be. Through a herculean effort, he forced the word through his lips.

"No..."

"Yes."

Next chapter: Savior of Equestria (provisional).