UNDER SEAL TEMPORARY

Blah blah

It is around noon, 19 Seeds 3337 AE.

It has been about 18 months since you turned the White Army somewhere East of Nevershyed. They have been eventful months, and some of them you have spent together, effecting the purge of the crystal forest from Equus. The changelings on Equus have been either banished from this universe altogether, or agreed to be altered by the Elements to have pony-like empathy and value the existence of other sentient life. Most of the changelings within the crystal forest opted for the former solution, but most of the lone changelings and small hives still living on Equus went for the latter, often adopting new, more colorful appearances for their basic forms, living openly in symbiosis with others. It seems change is in the air - rains have become more frequent of late, and farmers are expecting bumper crops all over the Isle of Yore. The new state of Harmonia held its first presidential elections, with Numinous Spirit narrowly winning over Baron Geldbit. Construction of a Northern Friendship Railway connecting the Northeast with New Equestria and elsewhere, is well underway.

It may have been a few weeks or months since you have seen some of the other Bearers. This day finds you gathered at the Hues' country house outside of Sparkle City, to celebrate the wedding of one of your number, Gabrio, to his long-time fiance, Merihu. The wedding preparations have been of a somewhat singular character, involving, among other things, the ritual hunt of a giant worm-like creature, which has been butchered and prepared for the feasting of carnivorous guests - in a special outdoor food preparation area, at the insistence of the Hues' cook who wouldn't have such things in the kitchen.

The noontime sky overhead is partly cloudy - a phenomenon that was rare for most of your lives, but which is becoming increasingly common in recent months. Guests are arriving, and the ceremony will commence this afternoon.

The party debates how exactly to approach the White Island army to deploy the Elements. Some are in favor of feigning negotiation to get close, but others oppose using deception. A plan is finally decided on in which the party and Libby will use the AEC to fly somewhat close to the approaching army, teleport into range to deploy the Elements, teleport back to the waiting AEC, and escape.

- stone the cloaked mare

Mention the toss-up with RBO purge. !! !! !!

Akasha will be adventuring.

Shadow would be headed back to the Black Mountains to visit family and Akasha and Qotho would be invited.

Discolor: Continue working on the relationship with Lofty, and if it's working for both of them, continue it. Sort out her living situation; as I mentioned, I was thinking perhaps an estate near Sparkle City, if things work out.

Emerald - Most importantly to her, giving birth and raising a foal.

Qotho would still like to continue adventuring and traveling, most likely with Akasha.

MUSIC: The world is safe, Snake charmer

1 Gourds 3359

Dear Akasha and Qotho,

---

1 Gourds 3359

Dear Emerald,

Your friend,

Dear Discolor,

Dear Gabrio and Merihu,

There were deserts before the Catastrophe, are there are deserts still on Equus, though every year the vegetation expands, driving them back into their precatastrophic ranges. Legend says that the oldest of these is the Nameless Desert. Once the heart of ancient Ponylon, supposed to be the first Equine civilization, legends say it was cursed for the hubris and impiety of its monarchs, doomed to be forever barren. Some wind-blasted ruins break the surface of of the sand, but the train passes too fast for you to get a good look at them. Before long, the endless shifting dunes will cover them again.

"Final station for this train is the Tower of the Curatrix. Arriving on time in five minutes at eleven forty-five," says a disembodied voice overhead. Apart from your party, there are only two other ponies still in this car, a pair of curates in pointed hats who are keeping to themselves. They must have some business with the curatrix, or perhaps just with one of her staff at the Tower. Harmonia has wasted no time in reestablishing an orderly system of magical law, despite resistance to the idea from some, typically those who had long wielded the power of magic unscrupulously over those who lacked it.

The train pulls into a small station. You step out onto the elevated platform, the midday sun bright overhead. A hundred meters away, a tower rises from the desert. It's about six stories, somewhat stout as these things go - there are sconces whose archmagi have taller towers, and a dozen buildings in the new capital outclass it in height. Ah, well, none of those buildings have alicorn princesses sitting in them. The tower is surrounded by an island of greenery, drawn from the desert by alicorn magic.

An aide on the platform walks up to meet you. The walk back is quiet - he knows why you are there, and it is not an occasion to make chipper comments on the state of Harmonian magical law or on the tower's groundskeeping, the sort of small talk he might make with visitors. You walk into the tower. Arches of rough-hewn standstone tower overhead. The doors are bronze, cast with Neo-Ponylonian geometric motifs. Impressive, but not grandiose, to the casual observer. A keener eye realizes that the whole structure is magic-made, grown with spellcraft and alchemy, its imitation of traditional materials and construction methods as much a subtle expression of magical mastery as an aesthetic choice.

The formal audience chamber is empty, except for a cleaning golem. The curatrix, Princess Nova, has kept her schedule clear today. You pass a stained-glass window depicting the turning of the White Army by the Elements of Harmony, and the signing of the Northern Friendship Treaty. The aide opens a door for you, into the private study.

It is a large room, with a barrel-vaulted ceiling. Shelves of books line the walls, where they are not covered by charts and maps. Light is admitted through the wall opposite the entrance, which is made of small glass bricks of various shapes. In front of them is a desk. A white alicorn sits there, still known privately to her friends not as Princess Nova, but by the nick-name you gave her years ago - Libby.

...