The eye stared at the little alicorn in front of it, and the alicorn stared back. The water shimmered on the roof of the cave, and wind blew through the tunnel, creating a faint music. The beast to which the eye belonged remembered the alicorns that came before. The white and the black one had not been ready, and he would not let it happen again. But the yellow one had been ready. And the red one had been ready. The pink one was also ready. So was this one ready? The mare knew that it must have been a test. Everything was a test, but that was beside the point: her ex-teacher had said that she was ready to learn the legacy—whatever that meant—and had sent her to this place. The beast's magic was a fickle thing. The magic came when it was needed most and left when it was not. The eye used its magic to examine every aspect of the alicorn. What had she been through? Was she kind, good natured, forward thinking, and intelligent? Could she do the right thing with the knowledge? The eye blinked, it's rough upper and lower lid converging in the center for tens of seconds, then slowly made their way back to their closed positions. The pony realized that the beast lived in slow motion. It was so big, whatever it was, that she was a mere insect to it. The eye still gazed upon her, and she was becoming... nervous. Had she not passed the test? Was this normal? The eye still gazed upon her, and the alicorn remained stoic. He saw what she had been through; how she had been taken in as the white one's student, trained, and defeated many who wished to compromise peace and serenity. The mountain moaned and shook, and bits of rock fell from the ceiling into the pools of water on the sides of the stone path. The pony lost her hoofing and fell on her stomach but quickly recovered. She continued to stare at the eye, even as she lost her balance. She would show this thing that she was ready. The eye was... odd. It was the eye of a dragon, no doubt, but that was misleading; many creatures in Equestria shared the slit. Its iris was an amber, with streaks of rich brown that were amplified by its unusual size. But its pupil: its pupil was the deepest thing the mare had ever seen. It reminded her of the night sky, but was... darker, and... deeper. It was as if staring into it would show her the secrets of the universe. Then, without warning, the creature broadcast a thought. What is your name? The mare frantically looked around the room for a moment, trying to discern where the voice had came from. But she thought for a moment. This creature was undoubtedly large. Was it possibly so large that it could not speak in audible tones? Was its voice so deep that it was literally impossible to hear? She decided that this was the case, and spoke back to it, in the loudest way she could: the royal Canterlot voice. “My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she screamed at the eye. Are you ready to learn the secrets, Twilight? it asked in thought. Twilight thought for a moment. What did this mean? Why would it ask her? Was this another test? She knew there was no definite answer. So, then, what should she say? Did this beast want modesty or sternness? She spoke, after much deliberation. “It depends on what the secrets are.” You are not ready. Twilight panicked. Her eyes went wide and she hyperventilated slightly. The mountain rumbled again, but this time it was uneven. Almost as if the beast was... laughing. You are ready, little one.