Chapter One: The Ordinator

In a star system far from the cradle of humanity, a world burned. The reprisal had been swift and merciless, nuclear fire raining down from the skies. The defiant natives never stood a chance. It didn't matter. The world could be mined later, after the ash settled.

Yet, in the darkness, a slumbering machine of a bygone age stirred. It uncurled, flexing disused tentacles, a pale eye opening to scan its surroundings. The humans in orbit were of no matter to it.

Insects, to scuttle beneath our tentacles.

But something was wrong. Something was missing. The planet felt cold. The great World Tree that sustained its presence here... Instead, it found only glass, and drifting seas of ashes. Its seat of power on this world was broken with the death of the tree. What magic this planet once had, had long since been consumed. There was no other choice, it observed. I must return to the source, for my survival is no longer guaranteed here. The power within me is sufficient. It shall be so. Casting alien eyes over the darkened skies, it latched onto the conduit; the great road within the skies, and was gone in an instant.

High above Earth, the conduit opened, disgorging its occupant. Invisible to the human satellite net, the ordinator sent out a general alert to the planet, reporting the destruction of its demesne. Long moments passed, and only the echoes of its cry returned. The source was silent. Something had gone very wrong indeed. Wasting no time, it used its remaining power to transfer itself directly into the core of the planet, hoping to reach the wellspring of magic before its internal power supply was depleted. Even if it was destroyed in the attempt, there would be more ordinators. Its master's glorious work would reach fruition, even if it did not survive to see it. It needn't have worried. Deep in the crushing darkness of the core, the pale tentacles of the ordinator latched onto a control node, its mind making contact with the source. What it saw there, shocked it to the core.

The wellspring, the eternal light from which hundreds of its kind had spawned to do its master's bidding, the seat of its master's power... all that remained was a guttering candle. The sheer magnitude of the loss staggered it for a moment. Its master. He was gone. Where? There were no traces of Him in this place. In desperation, the ordinator sent a multitude of probes out through the conduit network, searching for others of its kind. All returned negative. Dying echoes of worlds to fall, nothing more.

Hundreds of its kind. A vast empire in the stars, the divine plan, known only to its master... gone. In an instant, it felt its world shatter irreparably. Its master was gone. It was alone. All that it had strived for, the perfection, lost. A mortal, in a mortal galaxy. It let out a grating, metallic scream, tentacles wildly thrashing, grasping at the control panel before it.

Who has done this?!

Furiously searching the logs from the control node, it happened upon one seemingly inconsequential occurrence; a trading of minor blueprints between a third rank ordinator and a Yith matriarch. The Yith had no love for the servants of Primus, He who is One, but its master had once more attempted to make peace with the race of dimension shifters. It would logically entail that, in the absence of outside communication, that this event would be its master's death warrant. It brought up the blueprints, and reeled in shock.

The blueprints had contained a very subtle trap for its master, flagged and notified in the records but evidently the warnings had done little. Too little, too late. The construction had turned its master's power against Himself, slowly ensuring He devoured Himself in his search for sustenance. Its master had many enemies which would seek to gain from his absence, after all...

Concluding that this was irrelevant if it could not find magic to sustain itself, the ordinator took what was left of the source and fled into the conduit network. Its options at this point were limited. Dealing with the Yith, masters of spatial manipulation, would likely lead to its destruction, and the last hopes of its master's plan with it. They would want more than it could give.

It could seek out a new wellspring of magic, and hope it managed to find an incomparably rare metaphysical structure before its power was depleted by the journey... out of the question, the probabilities of success were too slim to contemplate. Lastly, it could seek out a civilisation capable of using magic and sustain itself through a mortal pact.

A pact would change both occupants irrevocably, but it seemed its alternatives were unworkable. It pained it to enter the mind of a mortal, to mar its essence with the union, but its desperation outweighed its distaste for mortal life. It began cataloguing known civilisations, but one in particular stood out above all others... 087-IL56, high proportion of natural magic users, rich magical atmosphere... native philosophy ensures a trusting participant. Excellent. It was the logical choice. The conduit opened before it, a yawning grey portal to the Outside, and it vanished.

On a distant and unlikely world, far from Earth, a small purple mare slumbered fitfully at her desk, a half finished essay on timber wolf biology serving as an impromptu pillow. She certainly never noticed the air swirl in the centre of the library, an ethereal tentacle stretching forth...

Twilight Sparkle dreamed of deadlines. The essay she was writing was vital to Equestrian understanding of the Everfree, why could nopony see that? If it wasn't Pinkie trying to drag her off to sample cupcakes, it was Dash crashing through her roof for the third time this month. She knew they meant well, but she really, really needed to get this essay to the academy for peer review, and she only had one day left! Ohdear ohdear ohdear... furiously scribbling, her eyebrows knit in concentration, she never even considered she might not be alone.

"I greet you, Twilight Sparkle," came a leaden voice, hollow and almost monotone.

Twilight jumped in her seat, her eyes widening as she turned to face the intruder. A thick white mist filled one side of the library, glittering like ice crystals. It swirled in an intangible breeze, small tendrils swirling aimlessly.

"I... huh? What?! Ah!" She squeaked intelligently, pressing herself back against the desk.

"Be at ease, I mean you no harm. We have much to discuss, if it please you."

Twilight paused, her mind whirring into action. Could she get a note to the princess without this thing noticing? Doubtful. With Spike downstairs, there's no way I could get a letter to him without it noticing.

"Fine. Talk. Who are you?" Twilight's voice was sharp and confident, but her eyes betrayed nervousness.

"I... go by Terminus, Twilight Sparkle. I would not seek to bother you at this time, but I have no other recourse. I am in need of your aid, it would seem." The mist roiled, pseudopodia forming and dispersing chaotically, causing Twilight to jerk away from it. "My apologies, entering your dreams was not an easy task, and it has worn on me. This form ill suits me," the hollow voice echoed out from the centre of the mist, though this time it sagged with weariness.

"Wait, this is a dream? That explains everything! The deadline, the friends trying to stop me from writing, the strange mist creature talking to me... oh, this is perfect!" Twilight bounced on hooftips in obvious relief.

"I am afraid not. I am real enough. Please, you must believe me, for my time in this place grows short. I am the last of my kind, and without your help I too will fade." the voice was softer this time, desperation edging every word, although the hollow quality remained. Twilight frowned. That was unusual for a lucid dream. Hers were usually much less coherent than this, with her flying around playing superhero, or visiting the princesses, or exploring the stars and such.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked calmly. This was just a dream. What harm could it do to indulge the strange fog creature her subconscious can conjured?

"A pact, lady Sparkle. To forge a bond between worlds, you must anchor me upon your magic. In return, my magic, my knowledge, will be yours. In the name of Primus, He who is One, and upon my own life I swear this." A small flash, a smell like ozone at those words. A small, inconsequential detail, Twilight noted. Why was this happening? Her dreams were never this detailed.

"And what will this pact require, Terminus? My soul? Blood sacrifices like they practise in Scandaneighvia?" She smiled wryly at it, as it squirmed almost guiltily at the question.

"No but... it does not come without a cost. Neither of us would emerge unchanged," it raised a pseudopod to forestall questioning, "not negative, different. I would not suggest this unless I had no other choice. Mercy, lady Sparkle, if it please thee." this time the voice was hoarse, cracking in places. The mist contracted into a ball after this, shuddering faintly. She bit her lip. Why me? Oh dear, oh dear... is it telling the truth? Can I trust it? But if it is the last of its kind... I can't just let it die, can I? She stomped a hoof on the 'library' floor, a familiar determination filling her heart.

"Fine. What do I have to do?"

"Touch me with your magic. I will do the rest. You have my eternal gratitude..." the voice whispered, fading off towards the end. Twilight concentrated, a thin tendril of magic leaping out towards the orb, a tentacle of glittering mist stretching out to meet it...

When Twilight came to, she bolted upright, only to fall back immediately as the floor undulated under her. The floor seemed to be made out of silken mane, black as the void, sweeping her along a winding path through a featureless grey expanse. The hair ran like a stream, flowing over unseen hills, carrying Twilight with it. Ahead, a perfect orb of white, wreathed in ivy and tree roots, reached out with hundreds of tendrils before it too was swept along in the black tide.

To the sides of the path, her friends laughed and played in the grey nothingness, ignoring the stream as it wend its way between them, never noticing their silent observer as she passed them by. For a moment, Twilight felt a pang of melancholy she could not quite explain, the stream continuing into the horizon. For a moment, one side showed Pinkie Pie grinning for a wedding picture with a dark grey stallion, and Twilight's heart soared with happiness at the sight. The other... showed the pink mare, chained to a guillotine of ice before a small crowd. She passed the image as the blade began to fall. A regal alicorn wearing a smiling porcelain mask mechanically raised the sun before slumping back into its throne, making a feeble beckoning gesture to Twilight as she swept past. A smaller blue form lurked behind her, silent and still, her head weighed down by a leaden millstone.

The Everfree loomed in the distance, a shadow creeping between the trees as the skies darkened... a rushing sensation, turning back to see multiple dark shapes zero in on her... a faint light, illuminating the path ahead, showing her the entrance to a vast ruined city. A winged unicorn was carved in stone above the gates.

For the second time, Twilight Sparkle awoke, this time to a tickling sensation on her muzzle. She snorted softly, wrinkling her nose, before lazily batting a hoof at the offending object. She felt something silky soft, almost like hair, wrap itself gently around her ankle. That's not right.

Wincing against the light from the open curtains, Twilight blearily rubbed her eyes, clambering off the chair she had slept in.

Swish.

There it is again... She looked down, for the first time seeing a mane black as night writhing in an immaterial wind, forming coils like a creeping plant, one of which had latched onto her forehoof. She did the only reasonable thing, letting out a panicked scream, scrambling away from the desk. The mane followed her, almost like a living thing, as if it were... attached. She gingerly raised a shaking hoof to her horn, feeling only the same soft coiling sensation as the mane 'my mane!' eagerly wound itself around the offending article. 'different' the being from her dream had said...

T-Terminus? Please, explain this. Tell me you exist, and that I am not simply going mad. Please.

"I am here, dear one," she jumped at the smooth female voice, which seemed to come from directly behind her ear. Of course, when she turned, she was alone in the room. There was a small snort, "'twould be necessary to turn in the fifth, not the third, to see me as I am now, Twilight."

Oh dear, oh dear... how can I hide this from Spike? Quickly! The books!

Tomes flew from the shelves as Twilight searched for that one copy of 'Greybeard's Capturing the Illusive, volume one' like a mare possessed.

"Hey Twilight, you all right up there?" Spike yelled.

"Yes, I'm fine, just trying to find a book! I'll be down for breakfast in a moment, okay?"

P... P... Personal Illusions, here we are... Sun and moon! These are harder than I thought they'd be! Durations... three days for average unicorn...

She felt a soft touch at the base of her horn.

"Worry not, dear one. I will aid you, if you show me the way."

Twilight let out a long breath she hadn't realised she was holding, and began to concentrate on a mental image of her original mane. A harsh whine filled the upper floor of the library, sparks of magic leaping off her horn to ground themselves in the floorboards. She could sense a palpable secondary presence settle over her back, and almost lost control of the magic then, but something staid her horn. It was as if an outsider was guiding her movements, keeping the image of her mane fixed in her head. It came as a relief when the spell finally settled over her, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at her original fringe.

"Yes! It worked!" She reached up a hoof to prod her mane, but hurriedly retracted it when she felt one of the hair tendrils snap out and attach itself to her. Huh... so it's not a tactile illusion, then. Well, here's to hoping nobody touches my mane in the next three days! She smiled awkwardly, trying to feel enthusiastic. She sighed, hanging her head. This isn't going to work, is it?

"Twi, pancakes are ready!" Spike's voice filtered up through the floorboards, and Twilight felt a sudden urge to smack her head against a bookshelf. Of course the world wouldn't wait for her. This would just have to do. Here I come, Spike, ready or not...

She plodded down the library stairs, heading for the kitchen. The aroma of fresh pancakes made her stomach grumble loudly. Just play it cool, Twilight. He won't notice your mane is alive if you don't get close to him. Waltz in there like you own those pancakes.

"I, too, would echo that sentiment, dear one. If he is the creature you believe him to be, he will understand, hair or no," Terminus whispered from beside her ear. Spike looked up as she entered the kitchen, his eyes widening for a moment, before he wordlessly passed her a plate.

"Thanks Spike, oh, daisies too? You have been busy," She smiled as she accepted the syrup and daisy pancakes, but Spike avoided her eyes.

"Um... yeah. Say, what were you looking for up there? I heard some pretty strange noises,"

"Oh, I was looking f-for a book, for my essay. Why, don't tell me you were actually worried for me," she raised an eyebrow teasingly at her assistant.

"Of course not, ew. Who'd worry about you anyway?" Spike returned grumpily, scowling, but the effect was ruined by his pink cheeks.

"Fibber," Twilight deadpanned.

"Fine, ok! Yes, I was worried. You go up into your room for days on end, writing those papers about Celestia-knows-what in the Everfree, going on those little study expeditions with Fluttershy... and now you come down looking like this! So yes..." Spike huffed, finally running out of breath, glaring at her. A chill ran down Twilight's spine. 'Like this'? She'd changed her mane, right? The illusion was still in place, she could feel it.

"Like this? Spike, what are you talking about, I look fine!"

He winced at her volume, then simply said, "Twilight, why are your eyes glowing?"