Stained with dark lashings of rain, the Zenith Citadel is almost entirely composed of dull gray stone, you conclude as you wander through chilly halls barely insulated by threadbare tapestries. Luckily, a small reading room with a well-stoked fireplace catches your eye. You slip into the empty chamber glazed with the weak light of an early winter evening. No wonder the ponies who live here developed such thick, furry coats, you reflect, huddling near the snapping fire.

But even in the draftiness of the somber castle, you are aware that the Waylands have attained a sort of solemn beauty . . . The impossible triumph of the Byways seems to confirm the unspoken motto of the inhabitants here . . . "We survive." Even in this harsh environment, survival is not everything, though; outside, the pegasi soar and dive through the misty clouds.

Leaning casually against the windowsill, a insignificant thought burrows into your mind. Suddenly you realize that you've seen pegasi galore and the occasional earth pony, but no unicorns in the Waylands at all. But even as this thought skitters through your head, you catch a glimpse of a horned pony quietly trotting past the open doorway.

So there are unicorns here. You peep around the doorway and spot the last strands of a dark purple tail disappearing around a corner. Burning with curiosity, you hurry after the pony and catch up with him just as he enters one of the many rooms of the Citadel. Following him, you find yourself in a room filled with paintings, sketches, and even a few sculptures.

"Hello," the stallion says, spotting you at last. "Are you interested in art too? I'm Summit, by the way."

"Hi Summit," you reply cordially. "Did you draw any of these pictures?"

"Alas, no," he sighs. "I'm going to have to put a lot of work into my style before I submit anything to the Gallery."

He goes on to explain how he hopes to create a huge canvas depicting the Battle of the Smooze.