“Advice is seldom welcome; and those who want it the most always like it least.”

Philip Dormer Stanhope

Fluttershy trotted down the dirt path that led to Sweet Apple Acres, balancing a wicker basket on her back. She came to the archway and nodded to Big Mac, who was busy replacing the shiny metal ‘Sweet Apple Acres’ sign with the original hoof-carved wooden one. He finished hammering one last nail before waving at her with a smile.

She smiled back at him, and turned off the road and walked to the gazebo. The rest of her friends were already there, sitting on a checkerboard cloth and talking cheerfully. Applejack was lying on her side, asleep. She’d barely slept at all during the last two days, and she and Rarity had just come back from an overnight round-trip to Manehattan.

“Hello, everypony!” Fluttershy said. “How is she feeling?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “You have no idea how hard it is to convince Applejack to sleep in. We practically had to barricade the door to her bedroom.”

“Nine o’clock?” Pinkie Pie said, mimicking Applejack’s accent perfectly. “Y’all daft in th’ head? Day’s half over!”

Fluttershy set her basket down. “She certainly looks peaceful now.”

“Maybe,” Rainbow Dash said, “but you shoulda heard her before.”

“Oh?”

“She kept talking about herself as if she was somepony else. She can’t remember half of it, doesn’t understand the rest, and blames herself for all of it.”

“The spell faded on its own,” Rarity said, “but for just a few minutes there, she was in-between. She could remember everything she’d done, but couldn’t remember why.”

Everypony looked down.

Fluttershy sat with them and took a few treats out of her basket. “We have to remember she wasn’t herself. That’s the important thing.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, “and I’m glad to have our Applejack back. Being smart isn’t everything!”

“I think that’s a very good lesson for a certain somepony else, too. Maybe Twilight and Applejack should write a report to the princess together! What do you think?” Fluttershy glanced around. After a moment, her smile faded. “Where’s Twilight? Wasn’t she going to join us?”

“We thought you were going to bring her along.”

Fluttershy sighed and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

Fluttershy landed in front of the library and opened the front door. Spike was sitting on a table, wringing his claws together. Twilight was standing in front of her wall calendar. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot.

Fluttershy walked next to her. She looked at Twilight’s eyes and followed her gaze to the last day of the week: the very last day with a red strike-through. Today.

“Twilight?”

Twilight’s eye twitched erratically. “Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy swallowed. “We were going to have a picnic today. With you.”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “That is... a true thing. However could I have forgotten.”

“It’s okay,” Fluttershy said, “everypony makes mistakes now and then, right?”

Twilight immediately laughed: a rapid, staccato sound. Fluttershy tried to laugh along with her but couldn’t muster the courage.

Twilight’s laughter cut off abruptly. “Yes. Everypony.”

Fluttershy looked back at Spike. He simply shrugged.

“Twilight. I think... maybe... you should...”

Twilight turned to look at her. Very. Slowly. “I can always rely on my good friends to help me in my time of need. Can’t I.”

Fluttershy backed away a few steps. “Um. Well yes, of course.”

Twilight walked towards her. “Friendship is the solution to everything, isn’t it. Everything. So I should probably ask my friends for help.”

Fluttershy backed away. “I suppose!”

“I’ve already asked everypony else for help. Rainbow Dash. Rarity. Applejack. Pinkie Pie. All of my friends. Except one.”

Fluttershy backed up against the wall and sat down, her lower lip trembling. “Can’t we just have a picnic, please?”

“You, Fluttershy, are the only friend who hasn’t given me a piece of advice. You must have an idea. A piece of wisdom. A unique point of view. Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. I need you to say what’s really on your mind. Be totally, brutally, crushingly, savagely honest with me. I don’t care what you say: it’s almost certain to be the one thing I need to finish this incredibly vital project within the next eighteen hours.”

Fluttershy’s eyes darted left and right. “Promise you won’t be mad at me?”

“I promise.”

“Can I have a scroll? And a pen?”

Twilight’s horn glowed, and a full set of writing implements appeared in front of her. Fluttershy took a fountain pen in her mouth and scribbled something on the scroll.

“There you go. I hope it helps.”

Twilight turned the scroll around and read it eagerly. Her ears drooped in disappointment, and she read aloud. “Dear Princess Celestia I can’t finish this project for u k thx bye.”

Fluttershy smiled up at her. “So, picnic?”

“What is this!?” Twilight waved the scroll in her face. “You were supposed to help me in my final hour of need!”

“But you wanted me to be totally, brutally, crushingly, savagely honest with you.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and tossed the scroll aside. “Not that honest.”

“Well, why can’t you tell her that? She’ll understand, won’t she?”

“I can’t let her think that I gave up!”

“You’ve been trying all week. You’ve tried your very best. There’s no shame in that, but you have to accept the truth. You have to let it go.”

“No! Not while there’s still time! There must be some way to—”

Fluttershy set a hoof on her mouth. She gazed into her eyes and spoke softly. “Let it go, Twilight. Let it go.”

Twilight stared back at her. “I... but I...”

“You have to accept that maybe—just maybe—you can’t do this. You’ve tried your best, but the princess may have given you an impossible task.”

“But she knows me! She must think I can do this!”

“She knows you, yes. But she might not understand this project. If she understood it completely, she could simply do it herself. Maybe she doesn’t realize how difficult it truly is. Maybe she’s wrong.”

Twilight stamped her hoof. “Celestia is never wrong!”

Fluttershy pursed her lips.

Twilight looked away. “That sounded really pretentious, didn’t it?”

“She’s a princess, and she’s very wise. But tell me, Twilight: does she think of herself as perfect?”

“Of course not. She doesn’t think that at all.”

“Maybe that’s because she knows she isn’t.” Fluttershy picked up the scroll and passed it to her. “She won’t think any less of you, I promise. She’s asking you to do the impossible.”

“Impossible,” Twilight said, her eyes brightening. “You’re right. It is impossible!”

“There we go!” Fluttershy said. “Just take all of that tension, all of your fears and doubts, and bundle it all up together. Then allow yourself to let go of it!”

“Impossible. It’s impossible!” Twilight smiled and did a joyful little dance. “It really is! I feel so free, now. I can’t believe I was ever so worried about this! Thank you so much, Fluttershy!”

“You’re very welcome, Twilight! I’m just glad I was able to help you after all.” She nodded to the front door. “So, shall we go to the picnic?”

“I would love to, really. But this is my very last day off and—”

“I understand completely. I’ll tell the others you want to relax on your own.”

“Thank you,” Twilight said. “And I mean that. I think you told me exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you.”

“Just remember to send that letter. I’m sure Celestia will understand completely.”

“Right, of course. Immediately.”

Fluttershy walked to the front door and waved goodbye.

Wow... not only did I stand up for myself, but I actually managed to help her! This whole ‘self confidence’ thing must be working out better than I thought.

Twilight waved goodbye to Fluttershy, then closed the door with a chuckle.

“I can always count on her to be the sensible one.”

“So,” Spike said, “ready to send a letter?”

“Absolutely not!” said Twilight with smile. “Get the equipment ready. I know exactly how to finish this up!”

Spike stared at her. “But you said it was impossible! I heard you say it, right to her face! You lied to Fluttershy!?”

“Don’t be silly. She was absolutely right.”

“Then how are we supposed to get it done if it’s impossible?”

Twilight grinned as widely as her face would allow. “Precisely!”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders strolled down main street, carrying rugged little saddlebags. Their manes were rumpled and unkempt, but they were smiling and talking.

“Best camping trip ever!” Scootaloo said. “Applejack was right; it felt just like being in a real forest!”

“I never thought it would be so dark out,” Sweetie Belle said. “There were twice as many stars in the sky and they were so much clearer!”

“I just wish we’d gotten a campfire goin’,” Applebloom said, “I was looking forward to roasting marshmallows.”

“I think your big sis was right,” Scootaloo said, “fire is dangerous without a grownup around. We’ll just have to—”

Scootaloo stopped as she walked past a rickety lemonade stand on the side of the road. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle bumped into her, then looked up at the stand themselves. The word “lemonade” had been covered with a tablecloth that was painted with the words “free cutie marks.” The stand was, at the moment, unattended.

The three of them stared up at the sign for a full minute. Scootaloo looked back at her friends, both of whom shrugged. Scootaloo stepped forward and tapped the little desk bell.

There was the sound of a slide whistle as Twilight Sparkle lifted up into view behind the desk: she moved like she was sitting on an elevator or something.

“Why hello, girls! Can I get you something?”

“I’m...” Scootaloo looked at Twilight’s broad grin and asynchronous blinking. “...Skeptical.”

“Now now girls,” Twilight said, “no need to be shy!”

Applebloom frowned at her. “Didn’t you try this on me before?”

“Yuh huh!” Twilight said.

“And didn’t it not work?” said Applebloom. “You said that not even magic can make a cutie mark appear before its time.”

“Ye-he-he-he-essss!” said Twilight, “you might even say it’s... impossible!”

Applebloom watched Twilight as she rubbed her front hooves together with glee.

“Y’know, Granny Smith warned me about talkin’ to strangers.”

“But she isn’t a stranger,” Sweetie Belle said, “she’s Twilight Sparkle. Isn’t she?”

Applebloom pointed at Twilight. “I double dare you to say this ain’t strange.”

“Come on, girls!” Twilight said, “won’t you give it a try? It’s for a good cause!”

Scootaloo watched as Twilight urgently bounced on her seat.

“Alright then,” Scootaloo said, “let’s do this.”

“Scoots,” Sweetie Belle said, “are you sure about this? Something about this seems a little off.”

Applebloom bit her bottom lip. “Everything about this seems a little off.”

“But what if it works?” Scootaloo said, “shouldn’t we give it a try?”

Applebloom and Sweetie Belle looked away.

Scootaloo stepped up to the stand and cleared her throat. “Alright, then. One cutie mark, please. To go.”

“Wonderfull! Just stand right there.”

Twilight Sparkle’s horn glowed and an aura of glittering purple light surrounded Scootaloo. Twilight strained with effort, and the glow brightened to near-blinding intensity. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle backed away and covered their eyes just as a shockwave of energy cascaded outward.

They opened their eyes and saw Scootaloo lying on her side, dazed. She looked up at them, wobbly-eyed. “Did it work?”

Applejack and Sweetie Belle stared at her flank, slack jawed and wide-eyed.

“It worked!?” Scootaloo said, “Oh-mi-gosh, it did work! What is it? What does it look like!?”

Applebloom scraped a hoof against the dirt road. “Ahhh...”

Sweetie Belle looked away, rolling her eyes. “Well...”

Scootaloo shot upright and twisted her head around to look at her own flank. A look of perplexed confusion appeared on her face: There on her flank was a smaller picture of Scootaloo herself, viewed from the side. The Scootaloo in the mark was twisting her head around to look at her own flank, with a look of perplexed confusion on her face.

Scootaloo looked up at Twilight Sparkle. “What.”

Twilight Sparkle sighed and slumped over the countertop. “Back to the drawing board. Again.”

“You can make it go away, can’t you?”

“Probably, but it’ll have to wait.” Twilight hung a ‘closed’ sign on the front of the stand and began arranging magical tools and supplies on the table. “I’m just too busy today.”

“What!?” Scootaloo ran around in front of her. “This is the dumbest cutie mark ever! You gotta fix it, quick like!”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Well you know, girls, nopony gets to choose their mark. So you really shouldn’t complain either way.”

“So,” Sweetie Belle said, “are you saying we should learn to be more accepting of things that aren’t under our control?”

“Yeah sure,” said Twilight, “we’ll go with that.”

Scootaloo stamped her hoof. “I’m telling!”

Applejack leaned close and stared at the tiny picture of Scootaloo, looking at her own flank with a perplexed expression. Applejack leaned further back and looked at the full sized—but still relatively small—Scootaloo, looking at her own flank with a perplexed expression.

“Well if that don’t beat all,” said Applejack. “I’ve never seen nuthin’ like it before. It’s really a cutie mark, too: not just one of those lick’em and stick’em tatoos.”

Scootaloo glared at Applejack. “So how do we fix it?”

Applejack rubbed the side of her face. “I’ll be honest, little ’un. I ain’t got the slightest idea. Whenever something weird crops up, we’d usually ask Twilight to take a look at it.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s gonna work this time.”

“Ah s’pose not,” Applejack said. She squinted and leaned closer. “Wait a second... I think the cutie mark of Scootaloo has a Scootaloo cutie mark of its own that looks just the same! And that Scootaloo has a cutie mark of it’s own, too!”

Applebloom pulled Applejack’s head away before she could become too bewildered. “Don’t bother, big sis. We took her to the hospital and borrowed the microscope: It’s Scootaloos all the way down.”

Applejack’s ears perked up. “Land sakes. How is that even possible?”

“Hey, girls!” Rainbow Dash called from above. She hovered down and dropped to the ground. “I hear somepony finally got their cutie mark! Congrats, Scoots! Was it worth the wait?”

“Not really.” Scootaloo turned to show her mark, looking frustrated rather than perplexed. “Twilight used her magic to make it appear.”

Dash tilted her head. “Your cutie mark is a little Scootaloo?”

“Worse than that,” she said. “It’s a cutie mark of Scootaloo that has a cutie mark of Scootaloo that has a cutie mark of Scootaloo that has a—”

“I get it, already,” Rainbow Dash  said. She took a closer look at the recursive image. “Well that’s twenty-percent cooler.”

Scootaloo’s ears flicked up a bit. “Really? You think so?”

“Don’t even joke about this!” Applejack said to Rainbow Dash. “This is a terrible thing to have happened!”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Do you remember the first time I said ‘twenty-percent cooler?’ ”

“Well, yeah. Rarity told me about it. She made you a dress for the Gala, and it was a real pretty dress too.”

Rainbow Dash idly examined her hoof. “Until?”

Applejack bit her bottom lip. “Until you said it needed to be ‘twenty-percent cooler,’ and she started adding crazy accessories to it, but it only made the whole thing look tacky and ugly.”

Scootaloo looked at her new cutie mark. “So when you say something is ‘twenty-percent cooler’, it means you tried to make something cooler by slapping something new onto it, but it just made it lame instead?”

Rainbow Dash clucked her tongue and pointed at Scootaloo.

Scootaloo’s bottom lip quivered. “Well then I don’t want to be twenty percent cooler! Can’t I just go back to being regular cool?”

Rainbow Dash patted Scootaloo on the back. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll go talk to Twilight and have her fix this up. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Yay!” Scootaloo said with a smile. “Thank you so much!”

“Ah better go with ya,” Applejack said, “there’s no tellin’ what state she’s in right now.”

“She set up a lemonade stand on main street,” Applebloom said. “She might still be there.”

“Ooh!” Rainbow Dash said, “that sound pretty tasty!”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Sweetie Belle said. “Life did not give her lemons today. I dunno what it gave her, and I don’t wanna know.”

“We’re really sorry about all this,” Applejack said, “but Twilight’s been having a pretty hard week. We’ll talk some sense into her. Y’all go on home, now.”

Applejack smiled and waved as the Cutie Mark Crusaders walked away. As soon as they were out of sight, she slumped her shoulders.

“Ah figured it wouldn’t be over quite so easily.”

Rainbow Dash said “it’s not as bad as some of the other stuff she’s done lately.”

Applejack shook her head and walked down the road. “It’s not a matter of bad or worse. This shouldn’t be happening at all. She shouldn’t be casting spells on ponies willy-nilly.”

“I dunno,” Rainbow Dash said, “so far, her spells haven’t done anything that couldn’t be undone. She is the princess’s best student, after all. She probably knows what she’s doing.”

Applejack frowned. “You know, they always say she’s her most faithful student... we dunno if she’s her brightest. I don’t know what we’ll do if poor little Scoots is stuck this way forever.”

“You’re worrying too much,” said Dash. “I’m sure Twilight can make it better.”

“But what if she can’t, this time?”

“Then I’m sure she’ll find a way to make it better.”

Applejack bit her bottom lip. “But what if she can’t find a way?”

Rainbow Dash frowned. “Then she’ll just have to look harder.” She reared up and slammed one hoof against the other.

Applejack kept quiet for the rest of the walk. After a minute or so, they came to Twilight Sparkle’s vendor stand. There was no sign, and the table was full of magical scrolls and enchanted writing tools. There were several baskets and half-barrels filled with unusual, miscellaneous bric-a-brac. There was a sparse crowd of ponies gathered about, peering at the items on display. Nopony seemed willing to make an actual purchase.

“Hey Twilight,” Dash said, “could you spare a minute?”

“Ut-ut-ut!” Twilight Sparkle said and scribbled frantically on a scroll. “Almost, and there we go. All done.”

Twilight Set both hooves on the table and her horn flashed with light. The writing on the scroll burned with purple light and the scroll disintegrated. When the spell finished, there was a metal cube on the table: a hollow frame.

“Not again,” said Twilight. She picked up the cube and tossed into a nearby barrel. “Sorry about that. Is there something I can do for you, Rainbow Dash?”

Dash nodded to her. “We just spoke with the C.M.Cs, and Scoots needs some help.”

“Right, right. That whole thing.” Twilight set out a fresh scroll and began scribbling on it. “By my calculations, the false cutie mark should fade away in a few hours all by itself.”

Applejack stared at the barrel full of cubic metal frames. There were over a hundred of them. “Hey, Twi? What do these do?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see if I couldn’t make them.” Twilight finished the new scroll and passed it to Dash. “If the mark isn’t gone by tomorrow morning, have her read this scroll aloud. It should negate the effect.”

“There, see?” Rainbow Dash said to Applejack. “I told you everything would be cool.”

Applejack lifted up one of the discarded cube frames and looked at its edges. “Twi? Is it just me, or is there something weird about these?”

“They’re called ‘necker cubes.’ You can have one for free, if you like. I bet they’d make great paperweights or bookends.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dash said. “So about this whole magical assignment of yours: You’re finished with it, right?”

Twilight grinned at her. “I’ve discovered that the assignment is impossible!”

“Great!” said Dash. “So this whole lemonade stand thingy is just for fun, then?”

Twilight worked her jaw for a moment. “You could say that, yes.”

“That’s great to hear. Isn’t that right, Applejack?”

Applejack turned the cube around very slowly as she stared at it. “So weird. It looks like those two parts are on top of those other two parts. But they can’t be!”

“Yup!” said Twilight, still grinning. “They’re impossible. Do you want one?”

Applejack rummaged in one of the baskets and took out a two-pronged tuning fork with three prongs. “My head hurts.”

A young stallion approached the vendor stand. “Excuse me? Do you have any of those triangle thingies? The ones that have square-shaped corners, but you can’t tell which part of it is closest?”

“A penrose triangle!” Twilight said, “excellent choice, sir! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll see what I can whip up.”

“Now hold on there,” Applejack said, “this is getting ridiculous. Hasn’t the last week taught you a single thing?”

Twilight glanced to each side. “I don’t know what you mean. What do you mean?”

“You need to take a break from all these magical shenanigans. You said yourself that this crazy assignment of yours was impossible.”

“Exactly!” Twilight said and pointed at the various impossible objects for sale. “These spells are impossible, so they can’t possibly succeed! And if they can’t succeed, then they can’t possibly fail!”

Applejack closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

“All right. I want you to promise not to cast any more weird spells today. And you need to go back to the library and send Princess Celestia a letter as soon as possible. It’s important.”

“But—”

“No!” Applejack said. “This is all over and done with, ya hear me?”

Twilight’s bottom lip quivered. “Can’t I just try one more spell out? Please? Just one?”

Applejack frowned at her.

“Oh fine,” Rainbow Dash said. “Just hurry up already.”

Applejack tensed, eyes wide with panic. “No! Don’t listen—”

“Ka-zoomy magic-a-go-go!” Twilight shouted. Her horn flashed and a torrent of magical energy surrounded Applejack and Rainbow Dash.

“—To her!” Applejack said. She held her breath for a moment, expecting the worst.

“I don’t believe it!” said Twilight. “I was so sure it wouldn’t work. Physical transferences are much harder than mental ones.”

Applejack’s voice was hushed. “What did you do to us?”

“Something sure feels different,” Rainbow Dash said. “Like something’s missing.”

Applejack turned to look at her and flinched back in horror. “Yer wings! Sweet lady Sky Skimmer, what happened to yer wings!?”

Rainbow Dash looked back at herself in shock. Her wings were gone. When she looked at Applejack, the intensity of her shock increased. “I think I’m lookin’ at ’em right now!”

Applejack looked back at herself and saw a pair of orange, feathery wings attached to her back. She gasped as they unfurled out of reflex: they were more muscular than Dash’s, and the feathers were packed more thickly together.

“They’re real!” She stared at them as they flexed up and down. “I can really move ’em around and everything! I can even feel ’em moving... feel the wind moving through ’em!”

“Is it just me, or do they seem bigger?” Dash said. “They’re not bigger than mine, are they?”

“This is amazing!” Applejack flexed them down and lifted off the ground for just a moment. “Does it feel like this all the time?”

Rainbow Dash managed a faint smile. “Wanna take ’em for a spin?”

“Really? That’d be—” Applejack looked at her with a nervous smile, like a child about to climb into a rollercoaster for the first time. The smile vanished, and Applejack glared at Twilight. “No. This is wrong. You’d better find a way to change us back right now!”

“There’s a code word,” Twilight said. “If either of you says the word, the spell ends.”

Applejack frowned at her. “That’s all? It’s just that easy-peasy?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Please, A.J. I’m the princess’s personal pupil. I’d never cast a spell without being able to reverse it.”

“Oh. Well, good. That’s good.” Applejack scratched at the ground. “You’d best tell us the codeword, then.”

“No-no-no, wait!” Dash said. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Aren’t you even a little bit curious about what it’s like to fly?”

“Much obliged,” Applejack said, “but I’ve gone my whole life without wings and I’ll be perfectly happy to keep it that way. I like to keep my hooves on solid ground.”

“Aww.” Dash looked downcast for a moment, then smiled. “There’s one thing we have to do first!”

“Just one thing?” said Applejack. “This better be important. What do you have in mind?”

Rainbow Dash’s grin widened. “The ultimate prank, for the queen of pranks!”

“What!?” Applejack said. “Don’t be such a foal! This is a very serious—”

Rainbow Dash rushed to her side and whispered in her ear. Applejack’s eyes widened and one of her ears flipped up.

“Fine, then. Just this once.” Applejack pointed at Twilight. “But you go back to the library this instant: we’ll visit you later.”

“Okay, fine.”

“And no more magic shenanigans!”

Twilight grumbled as she packed up her magical goods.

Rarity looked up from her sewing desk as the front door to her boutique opened. “Whoever it is, yes we’re open. We just had the door fixed and haven’t gotten a new ‘open’ sign for it yet.”

Fluttershy peeked inside. “Rarity? Are you busy?”

Rarity smiled at her. “I’m never too busy for a friend! Come in, come in.”

Pinkie Pie got up from her chair and bounced over to her. “Did you get a message too? Is that why you’re here?”

“Message?” Fluttershy said. “Was I supposed to get one? I’m so very sorry!”

“You didn’t?” Rarity said. “I just assumed. Rainbow Dash sent Pinkie Pie and I a message, asking to meet with us here. She didn’t mention why but it sounded rather important.”

“Oh my,” Fluttershy said. “You don’t think she’s in some sort of trouble, do you?”

“Why would she send a message for that?” Pinkie Pie said. “If she was in trouble, wouldn’t she just tell us about it? Why get us all together?”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “But what if it’s big trouble? What if it’s so big, she needs all of us to help? What if she was too embarrassed to tell us, face to face?”

“Oh please,” Rarity said with a gentle smile. “I’m sure it’s—”

The door swept open and all three of them gasped. Rainbow Dash staggered in and collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Her eyes were puffy and her face was streaked with tears.

Rarity rushed to her side. “My stars, girl! What’s happened to—your wings!?” She recoiled in horror.

Rainbow Dash looked up at her, sniffling. “They’re g-g-gone!”

Fluttershy’s eyes rolled up and she fell to the floor with a thump.

“Gone!?” Pinkie Pie said. “What do you mean they’re gone!?”

“I mean they’re gone! I’ll never join the Wonderbolts now!”

Pinkie Pie managed  half-hearted smile. “I-it’s not that bad, Dash! Really! You just gotta look on the bright side!”

“What bright side? I ain’t seein’ it! I can’t work as a weather pony, and I can’t even live in my cloud-home anymore. I’m homeless!” She rolled onto her back and wiggled her shoulders against the floor. Her sobbing stopped. “Although this feels pretty good, I gotta admit. I’ve had an itch on my back for days.”

“There you go!” said Pinkie Pie. “Think positive! Now you can... scratch your back? That’s good, right?”

Dash’s sobbing resumed in full force. “But at what price? I’ve lost my house, my job, my foal-hood dream... my whole life! I’m nothing without my wings!”

Rarity stamped a hoof on the floor. “Now you listen here, Rainbow Dash! You are most certainly not nothing! You have so much more to be proud of!”

“I do? Seriously?”

“Of course!” Rarity said. “Why, just think of everything you’ve accomplished as the element of loyalty! You helped defeat Nightmare Moon and Discord, all without your wings!”

“Yeah, yeah!” said Pinkie Pie. “And remember when you and Applejack did the running of the leaves? You’re a really good athlete, even without your wings!”

Rainbow Dash’s ears perked up. “I am?”

“Sure you are!” said Pinkie Pie. “And you’re really brave, too!”

“And strong!” said Rarity.

Dash nodded. “That’s pretty cool, I guess. What else?”

“And pretty!” said Pinkie Pie.

Rainbow Dash frowned at her. “Pretty?”

“Handsome, maybe?” Pinkie pie bit her lip. “That doesn’t sound right either.”

“Attractive!” Rarity said. “She means attractive!”

“And stylish!”

“Statuesque!”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Cool, cool. What else?”

Pinkie Pie looked at Rarity, helplessly. “Uh... well-proportioned?”

“Yes, exactly! You have excellent equine conformation!” Rarity crouched next to Dash and set a hoof on her shoulder. “I know the pain must be fresh, but can you tell us how you lost your wings?”

“I just lost ’em,” said Dash. “What else matters?”

“Was there a horrible accident, or something?” Pinkie Pie said.

Dash shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“Maybe!?” Pinkie Pie said. “How could you not remember something like that?”

“Quiet, you!” Rarity said, “it must have been so horrible, she suffered amnesia.”

Dash nodded. “Yeah, it was probably that.”

Rarity gave Dash a caring look and spoke softly. “I know it must have hurt, but you need to remember as much as you can. Think back. what’s the last thing you remember?”

Rainbow Dash pursed her lips in a calm, rational manner. “Okay. I was taking a shower, and then I went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. I must have lost them sometime in between.”

“W-what?” Rarity said.

Pinkie Pie pushed her aside and grabbed Dash’s head. “Don’t let it get you down, Dashie! The most important thing is not to get depressed!”

“How am I supposed to do that? I’ll never fly again!”

“I know just the thing to keep your spirits up!” Pinkie Pie said with a tentative smile. “We’ll throw you a party! It’ll be a ‘you lost your wings and you’ll never fly again or join the Wonderbolts, but your friends still love you very much’ party!”

Dash rolled onto her back and resumed her heart-wrenching bawling.

“No, wait!” Pinkie Pie said. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Rarity frowned at her. “How could you be so insensitive!?”

Pinkie Pie’s eyes glistened. “B-but we gotta do something! What else can we do?”

Rarity opened her mouth, but hesitated.

“I don’t know. But we’ll think of something.” Rarity looked at Dash. “We will find a way to fix this. I swear on the name of Princess Celestia herself, you will fly again!”

Rainbow Dash looked up, smiling through the tears. “Thanks, girls! You’re spiffy!”

“All right,” Rarity said, “First, we need to—”

“Hey, y’all!” said Applejack as she glided through the front door. “Is Dash hereabouts? Ah been lookin’ all over for her.”

Pinkie Pie and Rarity turned to Applejack and froze as they saw her fly into the boutique. Applejack dropped to the floor and folded her wings back.

“Oh, right!” Rainbow Dash stopped crying and stood up. “That’s where they were!”

Applejack nodded. “Thanks for letting me borrow them for the day. I just had to visit the next village over, real quick like.”

Rarity and Pinkie Pie stared at them both. “...Borrowed!?”

“Yeah,” Applejack said, “there was a farmer’s market I wanted to visit but I couldn’t get there in time. Not on my hooves, anyhow.”

Rainbow Dash slapped her own forehead. “I completely forgot about that. And I thought I left them behind the couch or something!”

Applejack nodded to Rarity. “Can we use one of your change rooms for a minute?”

Rarity pointed at one of the backrooms, slack jawed.

“Cool. This’ll only take a second.”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack went into the change room and emerged a moment later with their usual body structures. They walked back to Applejack and Pinkie Pie, smiling cheerfully.

Pinkie Pie stared at them. “You—but—how!?”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack both grinned. “Gotcha!” they said.

“You mean this was all a prank?” Rarity said. “That wasn’t funny. Not in the least little bit!”

Pinkie Pie fell to the floor and kicked her legs in the air, struggling to talk through the laughter. “That was great!”

Applejack pointed at rainbow Dash. “Her idea.”

Fluttershy slowly stood up, her lower lip quivering. “D-D-Dash?”

“Oh-mi-gosh!” Rainbow Dash rushed over and gave Fluttershy a warm hug. “I’m so sorry! It was just a prank for Pinkie Pie. I never meant to scare you, honest!”

“You gave away your wings for a prank?” said Fluttershy. “How is that even possible?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Rarity said.

“Oh that,” Dash said, “Twilight used her magic on us, and we decided to use it for a prank.”

“You decided,” said Applejack. “I grudgingly acquiesced.”

“A magic spell?” said  Fluttershy. “Was Twilight testing a spell on you?”

“I guess it was a test,” Applejack said, “but it turned out okay in the end.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “That’s what matters, right?”

Rarity sighed. “I suppose it didn’t do any harm.”

“And it was a pretty good prank, wasn’t it?” Pinkie Pie said.

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “So no harm. Right?”

Fluttershy glared at them fiercely, her jaws clenched tight.

Fluttershy marched down main street. Her hoofbeats shook the ground slightly, and the crowd parted quickly as she approached. He eyes burned like the sky-blue fire of an acetylene torch. Her friends ran—or flew—to keep up with her.

“Flutter?” Applejack said, “it wasn’t that big of a problem, you know. There’s no need to get all bent outta shape about it.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash said. “It was just a prank. That’s all. No harm done, right?”

“That prank was never meant for you,” Rarity said. “They never meant to scare you at all. It was just an accident.”

“Yeah!” Dash said. “I wasn’t even crying for real. I rubbed an onion on my face, that’s all!”

“An onion?” Pinkie Pie said. “Wow. Talk about suffering for your art.”

“Look,” Rarity said, “I know this wasn’t a particularly good thing that Twilight’s done. I agree with you there. But the point is, there’s no reason to blow this out of proportion.”

“Yeah,” Dash said, “there’s no need to stress out over this, right?”

All four of them looked at Fluttershy. She continued to march along, wearing the same fierce glare. They came to the front door of the library and Fluttershy knocked three times, firm and loud.

“Closed,” Spike called from inside, “come back later. Maybe.”

“Not later, and not maybe! We’re talking now!”  Fluttershy said. She took a deep breath and reared up. She brought her hooves down on the door and gently pushed it open. “If it’s not too terribly inconvenient for you! And if it is inconvenient, then I’m terribly sorry but we need to talk anyways!”

“Whoa,” Spike said. He hopped down from the front desk and limped over to her. “I didn’t know it was you guys. What do you need?”

“You’re limping!” Rarity said. “Is something wrong? Does it hurt?”

“Just been a busy week is all.” Spike stretched his back and winced in pain. “I don’t remember the last time I got a full night’s rest. I’ll be fine.”

“You poor thing!” Rarity crouched down and checked him over for injuries. “You should know better than to overwork yourself!”

“Jeez, I’ll be fine! I’ve had worse, you know.”

Fluttershy frowned at him. “I need to talk to Twilight Sparkle. Now.”

Spike gave a frustrated shrug. “Could you be more specific?” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder: The main hall of the library was once again packed with magical equipment, whirring and beeping and blinking. Twilight Sparkle was typing into a teleprompter, while Twilight Sparkle busied herself with a chemistry set. Twilight Sparkle, meanwhile, was inscribing a series of glowing runes onto a scroll. She passed the finished scroll to Twilight Sparkle, sitting behind her.

Fluttershy stared at the four unicorns. “T-T-Twilight?”

All four Twilight Sparkles looked up from their various projects. “Could you be more specific?” they all said.

“We need to—well, that is—” Fluttershy shuffled her hooves. “Can I talk to the real Twilight? Please?”

The Twilight with the scroll waved at her and walked over. “Me! That’s me. I’m the original Twilight Sparkle.”

Fluttershy pointed at the Twilight by the Chemistry set. “Then who—”

“Oh, her? She’s me too.”

“But aren’t you you?” Rainbow Dash said. “How can she be you too?”

“Ooh! ooh!” Pinkie Pie said. “I know! She’s you two, isn’t she?”

“Essentially,” Twilight said. “I cast a spell to create a duplicate of myself. We’re both me, but I was me first.”

Twilight Two waved at them. “I put a ribbon in my mane so ponies could tell the difference. It seemed like the courteous thing to do.”

Fluttershy pointed at one of the other Twilights as she walked past. “And what about—”

“Time travel,” the Twilight said in a bored tone of voice. “I’m from the future. I’ve done it before, but this was a permanent version of the spell: it won’t simply end on its own. Much more difficult.”

“Yeah, that was the worst,” said Original Twilight. “She showed up out of nowhere and now I have to invent a permanent time travel spell even though I know it won’t work.”

“You have to?” Rainbow Dash said. “Why?”

“If we don’t—” Both Twilights said at once. They stopped and glanced at each other.

“If we don’t—” Both Twilights said at once. They glanced at each other again, with a longer pause.

“I can’t believe I had to go through that again,” Future Twilight said with a sigh.

Original Twilight turned back to her friends. “If we don’t send me back in time, she won’t arrive in the past, and we’ll have no reason to send me back in time and she won’t arrive in the past.”

“But if you don’t go back,” Fluttershy said, “then none of this will happen. So why bother?”

“Duh,” said Original Twilight, “because it’s already happened. Twice, in fact: once to me, and once to her. We’re trying to avoid a causality paradox.”

One of the other Twilights looked up from her Teleprompter. “What about me? Did you tell them about me?”

“Nopony cares,” the other Twilights all said together.

“W-w-wait a second!” Fluttershy said. “Of course we care! She’s Twilight too, isn’t she?”

One of the other Twilights frowned at her. “Aren’t I Twilight Two?”

“Yes you are,” the other Twilight said. “I’m just a symbolic manifestation of the original Twilight. She made an enchanted mirror and transformed her reflection into a near-perfect facsimile of herself. But I’m not really real, or anything. I’m just an ontological figment.”

She turned to one side and showed them her cutie mark. It was hard to tell if the mark itself was a mirror image, but it was on the wrong side.

Fluttershy swallowed a lump in her throat. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“Real Twilight!”

“Well actually, we’re all real. Each of us is a completely authentic Twilight Sparkle.”

“Except for me,” Mirror Twilight said. “I’m just a symbolic manifestation of—”

“Nopony cares!” The other Twilights said.

Everyone in the room flinched as Fluttershy let out a piercing squeal. She clenched her teeth and scrunched her eyes shut for a moment, then took a slow deep breath.

“Twilight Sparkle, I want you to stop this! No more magic!”

“But the time travel spell won’t end by itself!” Original Twilight said. “If we don’t send me back in time, the resulting  causality paradox could—”

Fluttershy stamped a hoof. “Stop it or I’ll scream again! I’ll do it, I swear!”

Everypony else stared at her, stunned.

Fluttershy pointed at Twilight. “You four ought to be ashamed of yourselves! You promised me you’d put all of this worry behind you and stop doing magic. And just look at you!”

Mirror Twilight lifted a hoof. “Technically, I didn’t do any of this. I’m not real.”

“Zip it!” Fluttershy said. “You promised to tell Princess Celestia about everything and Instead, here you are making duplicates and time-travelling and who knows what else!”

“I was gonna tell the princess! Honest!” Original Twilight said. “Right after I—”

Fluttershy stamped her hoof again. She said nothing, but the look in her eyes was more than enough. All four Twilights lowered their heads.

Fluttershy pointed at the exit. “I’m going to go across the street to get a cucumber sandwich smothered with ranch dressing. And when I come back here, you’re going to have this library totally cleaned up, and there is going to be an open sign on the front door! Do I make myself clear, miss Sparkle?”

Original Twilight turned to Twilight Two, who responded with a single, slow nod.

“All right,” Original Twilight said, “But first we need to send me back in time so that she can come back from the future and help send me back in time.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy said. “But that’s all. And I’m going to be watching you the whole time.”

After half an hour all four Twilights stood in the center of the library, channeling their combined magical energies into a single spell. A nexus of blue electricity formed, growing larger by the second. The orb spread out into a ring-shaped portal that rippled the air around it. The other side of the portal led to a spinning black-and-white spiral, and all manner of clocks and calendars whirled around the inside of the vortex: ancient stone sundials, gold pocket-watches, and sand-filled hourglasses.

Original Twilight nodded to Twilight Two, adjusted her book bag one last time, and stepped into the portal. The magical force rippled against her skin like water. When her eyes passed through the portal, she saw the interior of the library: the architecture was in exactly the same place but her friends were nowhere to be seen. She emerged from the portal completely, and the moment she set her hooves on the floor she knew she was no longer Original Twilight. She had become Future Twilight.

Past Twilight looked up from her writing desk and stared in amazement as the glowing vortex closed itself off. “Not again!” she said. “What happened this time?”

“Permanent time travel spell,” Future Twilight said. “In half an hour, you’re going to send yourself back in time to test the failsafe spell.”

“Really?” said Past Twilight with a frown. “Then wha—”

“You’re not thinking of a number at all. You’re thinking of Molybdenum: the forty-second element in the periodic table of elements.”

“Whoa!” Past Twilight said. “You’re freakin’ me out here! What about—”

“The test didn’t work,” Future Twilight said. “Not even close. And you’ve got twenty-nine minutes and forty-seven seconds to get it done.”

“So I have to figure out a time travel spell, even though I know it won’t work?” Past Twilight said with a sigh. “This is the worst.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Future Twilight said, “literally and figuratively. Fortunately, I brought a few things with me to save you some time and grief.”

Future Twilight opened up her book bag and took out several rolled up scrolls. Past Twilight opened them up and scanned the contents of each.

“You brought me spells from the future?”

“Indeed.”

“Then where did you get them from?”

“Future Twilight will give them to me when I was Past Twilight. And you will give them to Past Twilight after you became Future Twilight in the present.”

Past Twilight sighed and rolled up the scrolls. “We may need to invent a few new pronouns.”

Future Twilight shrugged. “I’ve brought you a duplication spell, a magic-mirror-maker spell, and a permanent time travel spell... and a little something extra.” Future Twilight tapped one scroll. “We know the other spells won’t help us test the failsafe, but this one just might.”

“Might?” Past Twilight said.

“I haven’t seen it in action yet.” She tapped the other scrolls. “It requires an enormous amount of magic, but if we use these other spells—”

Past Twilight grinned at her. “We can combine our power and cast it together!”

“Exactly,” Future Twilight said. “One thing, though: I never saw the spell go off, because Fluttershy and the others showed up just at the last minute. I’ll have to send you back in time to before we could try it out, and I’m sure Fluttershy will try to stop you as well. Just feed her some garbage about causality or paradox or something, and wait until she leaves.”

“You think she’ll fall for it?”

“She already has.”

“All right, but this better be worth it.” Past Twilight opened up the special mystery scroll and scanned the contents. Her eyes widened and her pupils shrank to tiny dots. She set the scroll aside, flabbergasted.

“We made this!?”

“Technically, no,” said Future Twilight. “It was never made. It’s forever being brought into the past from a future that could happen, but never will. But we could have made it.”

Past Twilight stared at her future self. “This is amazing. I can’t tell if it’s absolutely brilliant, or absolutely—”

“Crazy?” Future Twilight said.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Yeah. I can’t tell if it’s brilliant or crazy.”

Future Twilight tilted her head and offered a tiny, one-sided smirk. “Is there a difference?”

A grin crept over Past Twilight’s face. She let out a snicker, and Future Twilight grinned back. They began giggling together, louder and louder, even though both Twilights knew there wasn’t anything particularly funny about their situation. It was just one of those senseless, hilarious laughs that takes on a life of it’s own for no reason at all.

Past Twilight got her laughter under control and wiped a tear from her eye. “I know one way to find out!”

Next Chapter: %i%: Fluttershy is the only pony who can save Equestria! We’re doomed. Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 13 Minutes