“Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records.”

William Arthur Ward

Princess Celestia cast open the window to her bedchambers and breathed deeply of the crisp, morning air. She took a moment to admire the distant golden nimbus that blanketed the horizon.

Ahh... the sweet satisfaction of a job well done!

She stepped out through the sliding glass doors and onto her private balcony. She walked to the lone patio table and folded up the umbrella, basking in the clear blue sky.

“No rain today, dear sister?”

Celestia turned in time to see Princess Luna alight on the railing, perfectly balanced. She hopped down and joined her at the table.

Celestia poured her a cup of tea. “These days, Canterlot relies entirely on irrigation to hydrate it’s lawns and gardens. I fear we have very few downpours... and only then to wash the streets and houses clean. At regularly scheduled intervals, of course.”

“Thou art missing out, dear sister. A natural rainstorm is one of the most beautiful elements of nature... very restful.”

Celestia gazed out over the rooftops. Her smile faded. “Are you still finding it difficult to sleep?”

Luna gazed into her teacup. “In truth... yes. But not so difficult as before.”

“I could arrange for some rain here in Canterlot, you know. Would it make you feel more at home?”

“Rain?” Luna said. “In Canterlot? Unannounced? Surely the Lawn and Garden Association would stir itself to rebellion over such an abuse of royal power!”

“Oh pish-posh,” Celestia said, “some healthy natural weather do the city a world of good. And besides... I am owed the occasional exception to the rules, am I not?”

Luna smirked. “Hast thou already exercised thy privileges, recently? Mayhaps regarding a certain Canterlonian Convention?”

“I had nothing to do with that.” Celestia rolled her eyes. “Though I was sorely tempted. The only thing every attendant can agree upon is what a horrendous waste of time it is. Some traditions are worth upholding. Others, though...”

“Thou couldst... cancel it next year. Or perhaps forever more.” Luna lifted her cup and took a sip. “Then we could have tea every year.”

“That would be marvelous. I’ve never had much time to myself. But neither have I needed it... until now.” Celestia gazed at the golden cityscape. “We simply must spend more time together. I was thinking every week, in fact... with a little help, Alectryon should be able to manage Sundays for me.”

“Every week?” Luna looked up from her teacup, bewildered. “Sister? Dost thou truly mean that?”

“Of course I do. I’ve missed you so.” Celestia took up her own cup. “And it has been brought to my attention that neglect has an ugly habit of tarnishing even the longest friendship.”

Luna’s smile widened. “You actually read those ‘friendship reports’ of hers?”

“I wouldn’t have asked for them in the first place if I weren’t genuinely interested in the results. They aren’t solely for the enrichment of my student.” Celestia set her cup down. “Just... mostly. She’s grown by leaps and bounds, you know. She has the same week off that we do, and I’ve heard she’s actually attempting to have fun!”

Luna rolled her eyes as she took another sip.

Celestia leaned on the table. “Oh and what was that about?”

“This Twilight Sparkle: we have met her. Studied her. She is a formidable opponent and a steadfast friend, but as regards to the having of fun... she is somewhat of a stick in the mud.”

Celestia set her teacup down and fixed her with a mischievous smile. “Would my little sister be willing to make a wager?”

“A wager? What sort?”

“I’ll bet you that my student is, as we speak, enjoying herself.”

Luna glanced at the horizon. “At six o’clock in the morn? Are you sure?”

“Winner has to do the loser’s laundry. For a week. Take it or leave it.”

Luna grinned. “Accepted! I shall wager that your student is doing something studious. Book work, or some kind of research.”

“And I shall wager she’s doing something fun.”

Luna lifted a hoof. “But it has to be something beyond her comfort zone. Swimming, board games, a music recital... but if she is amusing herself with books or research, it doesn’t count.”

“I accept!” Celestia’s horn glowed, and an oval-shaped mirror in a golden frame hovered over to their table. “Mirror, mirror, by the table... show us both my student faithful.”

Luna watched the surface of the mirror as it rippled and swirled. “You can use this to see her? Anytime?”

“As long as she’s within any of Equestria’s cities or villages, yes. I use it in case of emergencies... those she cannot resolve herself, at least.”

“But what if thy pupil is taking a bath or something?”

“Oh, especially then. You have no idea what happens when she tries to read in the tub.” She reached for a decorative element of the frame and twisted it like a knob. “Almost... and... there we go.”

The two sisters peered at the mirror as the picture cleared. They saw a deep winding canyon spanned by a narrow metal bridge. The view closed in on the bridge, where a crowd of colorful ponies had gathered. Twilight Sparkle was in the middle of that crowd, sitting in a purple-and-blue kayak and wearing a bulky backpack. She thrust her front hooves skyward and gave what appeared to be an energetic yell. The crowd cheered as two of her friends pushed her off the bridge, kayak and all. After a few seconds, a curved rectangular parachute billowed out: Twilight drifted down through the canyon, weaving around several rocky pillars and passing through a series of ring-shaped clouds.

Luna glanced at her sister. She looked back at the mirror just as Twilight reached the bottom of the canyon. She took out a double-sided oar and detached her parafoil, dropping several yards into the rushing whitewater below. She sped through the rapids, crashing against boulders and hurtling down short waterfalls. She plunged into pools and rolled upside-down frequently, gasping for breath whenever she surfaced. The mirror didn’t reproduce any sound at all, but she seemed to be yelling at the top of her lungs all the while.

Luna looked to her sister. “Didst thou set this up? To win a bet?”

Celestia stared at the picture and numbly shook her head.

Luna watched as Twilight sailed out of the canyon and hurtled over the edge of a six-hundred yard waterfall. The kayak split down the middle, and an internal mechanism unfolded into a hang-glider... which Twilight was hanging from upside-down.

“Dost thou require manual hoof-washing for thine most delicate garments? We have heard much of this... dry cleaning... since our return.”

Twilight tilted the hang glider using only the weight of her body. It had been absolutely necessary to anchor the kayak to her lower legs from the very beginning, so the mechanism within had been designed around a number of limitations... most of which now forced her to hang from the glider upside down, with both hind legs clamped into place. She shifted her weight to one side and the hang glider tilted. She stared at the aspen mountain range ahead of her, and the wide slope of glittering snow that ran through the middle of the evergreen forest.

Come on, Twilight... this is the easy part. Focus on the task in front of you.

She took up a scroll and scanned the contents, trying to ignore the huge flock of pegasus in her peripheral vision. They were following at a safe distance, watching in awe.

“Thaaat’s right, fillies and gentlecolts!” Dash shouted from above through a megaphone. “Ponyville’s very own Twilight Sparkle has only forty seconds left to invent a magic spell that utilizes the P.C.F. theory. It’s a mathematical theory first introduced thirty-four years ago, by Salerno Shelah! I’m sure I don’t need to explain this to you extreme math geeks but, for all the rest of you lamers, P.C.F. stands for ‘possible cofinalities’! It’s a theory that deals with the cofinality of the ultraproducts of ordered sets... and I do mean ultraproducts! It gives strong upper bounds on the cardinalities of power sets of singular cardinals... but it’s got plenty of other totally radical applications as well!”

Twilight clenched her jaw as she tried to keep the wind from affecting her penmareship. The math was challenging enough, but the problem itself was a secondary concern. The real challenge was designing the spell. From scratch.

She glanced ahead as an ice-covered mountainside loomed closer. She spared a few mental cycles for adjusting her trajectory and swept low over the snow-covered slope. She bit down on a nearby cable and yanked as hard as she could. Her glider’s left wing fell away, sending her into a downward spiral. She flipped the remaining wing up and snapped it into position: The body of the glider was now a smooth surfboard, and the remaining wing became a vertical sail. The transformation completed just as she landed on the snow: she reared up on her hind legs, hooked a forehoof around a support bar and proceeded to windsurf down the snowy range.

“Looks like she’s entered the end-game, folks! She’s finished inventing her spell—completely on the fly—but she’ll need it to deal with some seriously entangled linear orders! That’s right, folks... it’s set theory! It’s time to find out, once and for all, if Twilight Sparkle truly is a subset of the set of things that are totally awesome!”

Twilight scribbled notes on the surface of her parasail, but looked up as she noticed Rainbow Dash going into a dive. Her prismatic contrail skimmed over the mountainside behind her, generating a disc-shaped blast of light right over the snow. Twilight’s heart thumped in her chest as a deep crackle of ice and snow echoed back... the snow behind her broke apart and tumbled down.

There’s no time to proof everything out. I’ll just have to try the spell and see if it works!

Twilight’s horn glowed as she focused on her spellcasting, but the avalanche caught up with her long before the spell took form. By the time it reached her, it was a steep wave. Twilight struggled to keep her windsurfing board steady, but the force tore the vertical wing out of it’s struts. Twilight kept up on her hind legs and continued surfing by balance alone. The avelanche picked up speed and curled over itself, just like a real tidal wave.

Come on... just cast it! It’s supposed to fail! If you totally mess it up, nopony will think any less of you. Twilight closed her eyes for a moment as she sculpted the magic in her mind. The churning cascade of snow faded out of focus. The cheering of the pegasus spectators above was dull and muted.

Celestia trusted me to do my very best. I can’t fail... I won’t! She opened her eyes, and a shock of purple light illuminated the pristine white snow around her.

I won’t!!

Rainbow Dash gasped as the wave of snow grew in size. “Dude, no way... she’s goin’ for the tube!”

“The tube?” Fluttershy said as she struggled to keep pace. “What’s that?”

Dash pointed at the growing wave. “See there? It’s big enough and fast enough that it’s forming a fully enclosed cylinder... and she’s gonna surf inside it!”

“I didn’t even know snow could do that! Is it a good thing?”

“No, it’s an awesome thing... but only if she’s mare enough to pull it off!”

They watched as Twilight disappeared into the tumbling, churning tide. The glow from her horn lit the wave from within, shimmering against the icy surface. The tube lengthened until it spanned the width of the entire slope. Each end was pressed against the wall of evergreen trees.

“Is... is that good?” Fluttershy said. “If the trees are blocking each end of the tube, then... how is she supposed to get out?”

Dash stared at the avalanche for a moment. She went into a dive, but hesitated as she scanned the length of the gargantuan wave. Twilight could have been inside it anywhere. There was no way to tell.

All at once, the avalanche collapsed. The perfect vortex of snow fell into a heap of powder and frozen chunks, sliding down the slope in a heap. A tidal wave of water was dangerous enough... but ice and snow was heavy. Nopony could have survived such a disaster... nopony else, at least.

Come on, Twi. You’ve got your magic. Any second now, there’s gonna be a force field or something. You can just wink out, can’t you? Anything at all!

Fluttershy tapped her shoulder and pointed behind them. “Dash! Look over there!”

Rainbow Dash spun around just as Twilight’s surfboard slipped out of the tree cover, much further down the mountain. The crowd of spectators gathered close and cheered as she slid to a casual halt. Almost the entire population of Ponyville had gathered to watch her stunt. Nopony was going away disappointed. All the rest of Twilight’s close friends had gathered around. Fluttershy shot ahead and gave Twilight a warm hug.

Dash drifted over at a slower pace, slackjawed. “You left the tube by going into the forest?”

Twilight grinned as she gasped for breath.“Well, where else was I supposed to go?”

“But... the trees! They could have been more dangerous than getting stuck in the snow! You didn’t hit any of them at all?”

“It was simple physics,” Twilight said as she unbuckled her boots. “I’ve got an algorithmic pathfinding spell for just such an occasion. Well, maybe not just such an occasion... I’ve never had to use it before.”

Dash landed beside her, awestruck. “Twilight... that was by far the most awesome math problem I have ever seen!”

“Wow! You really think so?” Twilight gave her a tight hug. “We totally have to do this more often! I’ve never had so much fun outside of a library!”

Applejack stepped forward. “Now whoa there... just hold onna minute! How in the hey did you do all that just now? We all saw you during winter wrap up, and—no offence intended, of course—you were a total klutz! You couldn’t even ice-skate worth a fig! And now this!?”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Twilight said. “Really, the math was the hardest part by far. The whole athletic challenge was just sort of... tacked on.”

Applejack cocked her head. “You mean the parachuting to the bottom of Slammin’ Canyon, while avoiding all those rocky pillars?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, that.”

Fluttershy stepped forward. “What about kayaking down the whitewater rapids at the bottom?”

Twilight nodded. “And that.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Pinkie Pie said. “What about hang-gliding off of the waterfall, while upside-down?”

Twilight clenched her teeth. “That, too, was tacked on.”

Rarity tossed her mane aside. “And what about...”

“Yes it was all tacked on!” Twilight snapped. “The snowboarding down a mountainside and surfing along an avalanche was also tacked on.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “...The spellcasting. How did the spellcasting go?”

Twilight’s head lowered, and her ears drooped. “It... worked.”

Dash collapsed. “I can’t believe it. That was the most extreme thing I’ve ever seen a non-pegasus do, and it still didn’t work! I’m gonna have to clean up all this snow for nothing...” She scraped at the glittery white powder.

Applejack stepped over to Twilight and lifted her head up.

“We’re all going to go back to the library together. Then we’re going to get you a mug of hot cocoa. And then we’ll all discuss this together like good friends.”

Twilight’s legs wobbled and her eyes faded in and out of focus. “That’d be great! I bet!”

“Uh oh,” Dash said. “Looks like the adrenaline’s wearing off.”

Applejack winced. “How about we have this talk tomorrow. Give you some time to recuperate.”

The next day, Applejack opened the door to the library and walked inside. “Morning, sunshine! Sleep well?”

She glanced about the main room. Apart from the giant mechanical pillar, the place was empty. The rest of her friends followed her inside and searched the room.

“This is odd,” Fluttershy said, “she always opens the library on time. You don’t think she slept in, do you?”

“It’s possible,” Rarity said, “But Spike isn’t here either. He’s always sure to take care of the place whenever Twilight is indisposed.”

Dash rolled her eyes. “She’s probably exhausted after yesterday. I’ve seen this sort of thing before: a pony does something too awesome for her own good, and it goes straight to their head.” Dash hovered up to the second level and went into Twilight’s bedroom area.

“Last night was pretty rough on her,” Applejack called up. “Should we just give her a few more hours?”

Dash zipped back. “She’s gone!”

Applejack turned to her friends. “Come on, girls. It’s time for a posse.”

Twilight twisted around in her heavy cable harness and reached for the next rocky crag. The razor sharp crampons attached to her horseshoes gripped the cliffside perfectly, but a few bits of gravel broke free and tumbled down.

Don’t look down, Twilight. Never look down.

Instead, she looked up... up at the searing noon-day sun as it peeked over the edge of the clifftop. The light made it impossible to see the top of the cliff clearly... but she knew it was there. She reached up and grabbed the next hoof-hold, climbing a few inches at time.

“You okay up there, Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight glanced down at her climbing buddy: an elderly, pencil necked stallion with a faded chestnut coat. His over-sized glasses had been fitted with elastic sport-frames.

“I’m fi—” Her heart raced as she looked beyond him, and the long drop to the ground.

You’re fine, Twilight. Tell him you’re fine.

“I’m fine, Golden Horatio.”

“Wanna go over to the left? Seems like a good spot for a heel hook!”

“No. Now that I’m up here, I can see some pretty good ridges. Straight up would be quicker.” She shifted her weight to her other hoof. “A left climb would certainly be easier, though! how are you holding up?”

“So far, so good!” He said and gave a wheezy laugh. “This might sound weird, but I spent twenty years as a professor. I always used to dream about having an exciting retirement.”

“What’s weird about that?”

“Ever since we started the climb, all I can think about is statistical self-similarity! There are some amazing structural stress formations in the rocks here!”

“I told you it would focus your mind!” Twilight said with a smile. She raised her voice and called to the ground below. “Belay?”

Rocky Road’s voice echoed up from the foot of the cliff, her voice clear and resonant. “Belay on!”

“Climbing!” Twilight shouted back. “Come on, old-timer. Let’s see if you can keep up!”

“We’ll just see about that, youngster!”

Twilight hauled herself up, inch by inch. The upper ridges were indeed a quicker climb, but exhausting: the hoof holds were spaced just a little too far apart. Her support cable whipped and scraped against the stone, never offering more than a few feet of slack. At last, she set her hoof on the top of the cliffside. She set both forelegs on the top and rested her chin on them.

A hoof reached down for her. “Thanks,” said Twilight. She reached up and locked ankles with the helper, climbing the rest of the way up.

“Twi?”

Twilight blinked as she realized whose hoof she’d taken. Applejack gave her a scrutinizing squint, glancing between her heavy harness and her sweat-drenched face.

“Oh hey.” Twilight wiped her nose. “How’d you get up here?”

Applejack stepped sideways and pointed at a caged stairwell that had been bolted into the cliffside. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy landed nearby just as Pinkie Pie and Rarity finished climbing the stairs.

“Ah think you owe us all an explanation.”

“You waited all day for that?” Twilight said. “Why not just ask Dash or Rarity? They know all about it already.”

“Oh, no you don’t... I want to hear this straight from the horse’s mouth. I’m not even sure if you’ve given either of them the whole story. Leastwise, not in a way they can make any sense of.”

“Look, this is just... it’s not what it looks like. Really.”

Pinkie Pie peered over the edge. “It looks like you’re having fun!”

“She’s trying to test a new spell,” said Dash, “under stressful conditions. But if your last stunt didn’t work, plain old rock-climbing definitely won’t.”

“Actually, the rock climbing is just for fun.”

Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie both looked up, wide eyed.

Twilight shrugged. “Remember the math judges from yesterday? Well, they wanted to give it a try themselves. I figured we could start them off easy.”

“That bunch of old fogies?” Dash said. “You expect them to start off with rock climbing!?”

“No,” Twilight said. She paused to take a drink from her water bottle. “They’re starting off with fractal geometry.”

“Hey, Twi! Nice climb!”

“Yeah, took you long enough!”

All six of them turned to see a small group of elderly ponies gathered around a picnic table. The table was covered in scrolls, abaci, coiled cables, slide rulers, and bottles of water.

“You can start without me!” Twilight called out, then turned back to her friends. “So it turns out that at some point, about thirty years ago, Ponyville was considered one of the best retirement villages and a lot of professors and scientists settled down here. Who’d have thought?”

Dash muttered under her breath. “When I said you should start a club, I was talking about a math club.”

“Oh, that’s what this is. The rock climbing is just sort of... tacked on.”

“But this is dangerous! You don’t know anything about rock-climbing!”

“Well, that’s why we hired Rocky Road. She’s a professional, and she does all our belaying.” Twilight took another sip from her bottle. “Seriously, Dash... you have no idea what sort of mental concentration it provides!”

“Focus...?” Dash’s sour expression faded and one of her ears perked up. “That makes perfect sense!”

“It does?” Applejack said.

“The sense of danger actually focuses her magical ability!” said Dash. “Remember the ursa minor? Remember the story of how she hatched Spike from his egg, and accidentally grew him to the size of a tower? And when she repaired the dam, disguised as the Mysterious Mare Do Well? What do all of these things have in common?”

The others looked at her, blankly.

“They were all... urgent?” Fluttershy whispered.

“Exactly! And not just regular urgent, but save-the-day urgent!” Dash pointed at Twilight. “Your magic must be strongest when it really matters. When everything is on the line!”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “You mean all those stunts actually made my magic stronger?”

“Stronger, better, faster, easier... all of the above!” Dash flopped down and sat on her hind quarters. “I gave you the exact wrong advice. I made things worse.”

Appleack turned to Twilight. “But don’t you want your magic to work better? Isn’t that a good thing?”

Dash rolled on her back with a frustrated sigh. “Not this again.”

Twilight set her bottle aside. “Dash, seriously. The presence of danger may focus my thoughts, but that doesn’t mean it will affect my magical ability.”

“Hey, Twilight!”

“Golden Horatio!” Twilight ran to the edge of the cliff. “Hey, there! How’s the fractal geometry going!”

“Interesting! You really ought to see this crevasse! It looks like... like a...”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“That’s... not...” The elderly pony’s voice sharpened. “Falling! Gonna fall soon!”

Twilight turned to the anchor piton that had kept their cables secure. The cable was fine. The piton was fine. She looked down at the rocky ground under her hooves.

What did he say before, about structural stress formations?

Twilight ran to the edge of the cliff and shouted down to Rocky road. “Get everypony away! The whole cliff is about to—”

The mane six flinched as a deep crack thundered across the cliff. A huge chunk of the clifftop shifted under their hooves and dropped a few inches. Dash and Fluttershy immediately took to the air. The rockslide broke free, and the rest of them were swept over the edge.

Twilight’s mind raced as she entered freefall. The two-hundred foot drop was bad enough. Fluttershy and Dash might be able to save two of them if they were especially quick. Dash certainly would be... but Fluttershy was a tough call. What if she’d fainted, and needed rescuing herself?

I’ll just have to teleport them all as soon as I can. Twilight watched Pinkie Pie and Applejack as they tumbled through the air above her. No... wait. I can use a feather-fall spell. Much easier. Even without line of sight, I should be able to affect every living thing within a hundred meters. Perfect. That should be...

Twilight tensed as she remembered Golden Horatio, Rocky Road, and the dozen other ponies below them. She watched as fifty tonnes of rock plummeted all around her, hurtling towards the helpless gathering below.

There must be something I can do! Some way to...

The pupils of her eyes shrank to tiny dots. Her horn flared with light.

Huh. Worth a try.

Applejack opened one eye and looked around. She, Twilight and Rarity were all drifting to the ground like feathers. Dash and Fluttershy were carrying Pinkie Pie between them: Dash let go, and Fluttershy carried her effortlessly.

“What the hey!?” Applejack glanced around. “What happened to the giant boulder?”

Twilight swam through the air with limited success. “I winked it away.”

“How was that possible? That thing was huge!”

“It was a little tricky, sure. I just... closed the gap.”

They reached the ground, and the sense of lightness faded. The elderly rock climbers watched as her close friends rushed to her side.

“...Closed the gap?” Applejack tilted her head. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s a magical term. You see, it’s very difficult to wink other objects or ponies... it’s much easier when you’re just winking yourself, so I fooled the spell into thinking I was the boulder and that the boulder was me.”

Applejack stared in awe. “How is that even possible?”

Twilight turned to one side: her cutie mark was now a picture of a grey boulder.

“And then I used an ‘Instant Inscribing’ spell to draw a picture of my cutie mark onto the boulder.” She nodded to her own flank. “I should go back to normal in a few minutes.”

“Ooh!” One of the elderly unicorns said. “Excellent use of the Law of Sympathy!”

“Thanks!” Twilight said, blushing slightly. “It was something I sort of just threw together.”

Dash’s ear twitched. “While you were falling to your doom?”

“I suppose so,” Twilight said. “Wow. I guess it really is a great mental focus.”

“But the boulder!” said Rarity. “Why didn’t it reappear?”

“Oh, that... I didn’t really give it a specific destination. I used a pseudo-random number spell to send it away.”

“You mean it could be anywhere?” said Rarity. ”Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I know,” Twilight said, abashed. “It’s a really irresponsible way to use magic. But my friends were in danger! It was all I could think of!”

Dash gave her a pat on the back. “Don’t worry about it, Twi. You did the right thing.”

Rarity stepped forward. “I won’t argue with that, but exactly how random was it?”

“Almost completely. It could be anywhere in Equestria now...” Twilight gazed up at the sky. “I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

Bea took a deep breath and stepped away from the worktable, wiping a hoof across her brow. The carpentry garage was sweltering hot, and the wind that came in through the windows provided only fleeting and intermittent moments of cool relief. The floor was covered with a thick layer of curly wooden chips and the air was thick with dust that glittered like gold in the sunlight.

Bea looked back at her worktable and examined the wooden plank she’d been sanding for the last half hour. She ran her hoof along it’s surface and savoured the grain. She felt no impatience. No frustration. The long, repetitive task had a meditative feel to it.

She hung up her tools and swept the floor clean. She used an actual broom, and she even held it against her shoulder like an earth pony would. It didn’t even bother her anymore. When she was finished, she stepped outside and dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. By the time she’d walked across the field and reached the cottage—the only real house in the lumber yard—the sun had dried her coat off.

“Hello?” she said as she opened the door. “May I come in?”

Mrs Rafter came over and opened the door for her. “Oh, what have I told you, dear? You’re always welcome here! Sit yourself down and have some lemonade. And I have a few crumpets left over.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Bea said as she sat down, “but I’m sure Mister Rafter would prefer it if I knocked first.”

“You live here, don’t you?”

“I’m only renting the attic.” She glanced about. “Why? Did he say anything about me? Am I in trouble?”

“Hm? Oh, that. Finish your snack first, dear.”

Bea watched as her hostess puttered about the kitchen. She sipped at her lemonade and nibbled at a crumpet, but she wasn’t particularly hungry.

“Where is Mister Rafter? I should really go see him.”

“He’s in the garage, deary. You sure you won’t finish your snack? I have some homemade peach cobbler, if you’d prefer. A whole pan, fresh from the oven!”

“No, ma’am. But thank you, ma’am.”

“Alright, then. If you insist. I’ll pack some up for you to take with you.”

She stood up and bent her front knees in a quick little curtsey. What’s going on here? She went through entryway and knocked on the door to the garage.

“Excuse me? Mister Rafter?”

“Land sakes girl, just come on in. You live here, don’t you?”

Bea’s eyes widened. “But I’m only renting the attic!”

“You’re under my roof, filly. And that means you live here. Come on in... I need some help moving something out of the way.”

Bea thought back to the first time she’d ever seen him, dragging a pair of giant tree trunks all by himself. “Are you sure, sir? What could I possibly...”

She opened the door and froze in place. Half of the garage was filled with a large, one-pony carriage. It was a cruiser model built to resemble a home, and the windows and doors reminded her of the very same cottage she’d been living in for the past two months. There was some brass piping here and there, but most of it was fine hardwood.

“It’s just been sittin’ there all evening,” Mister Rafter said. “Think you can take it off my hooves for me?”

Bea turned to him. “You’re just giving it to me!?”

“That was the deal, wasn’t it?” He stood up and gently kicked one of the wheels. “I agreed to make you anything you wanted, as long as you helped build half of it yourself. And as long as you didn’t use any magic at all. And you did. You did the work. You learned the trade.”

“But I don’t remember doing any of this!” Bea said. “I’ve spent the last two months sawing and sanding boards!”

“What exactly did you think I was using them for?” He held up a ring with a pair of metal keys. “Go on, Beatrix.”

“But there’s no way I could afford something like this!”

“It’s not a gift. You’ve earned it... every bit of it. I’ve never once seen a city pony work so hard in all my life.”

“...Even with all the complaining?”

“Aw, fig newtons... we all complain around here! As long as you get the job done, you can complain all you like.” He took her hoof in his own. “You were rough around the edges, but you’ve sanded up real good since. I’ve been glad to have you around. You’re very talented filly, Beatrix.”

Bea sniffled. “Thank you. It’s so wonderful to hear somepony else say it for once.”

“Aw, what’s this now?” He dabbed a handkerchief under her eyes. “Go on and get your stuff from the attic. I think you’ve spent more than enough time in this little ‘backwater hole in the ground,’ haven’t you?”

Bea immediately thought back to her first words to the grizzled carpenter.

“I suppose. But do you think I could visit sometime? Maybe?”

Mister Rafter watched her for awhile. It took some time for a smile to spread over his face. “You’ll always be welcome here. You’ll always be just like family to us.”

Bea leapt up and hugged him tight.

It took less than an hour to move all her things into the carriage. The interior was divided into two small rooms, and the roof was fitted like a balcony. It was smaller and lighter than her previous carriage, and the coach seat had been removed in favor of a larger interior. This was a vehicle that was meant to be pulled by its owner. Bea climbed into the harness without complaint. It felt good to be doing the work all by herself for once... to be self sufficient.

Mister and Missus Rafter waved their goodbyes as she left down the main road. She basked in the cool wind and breathed in the scent of pine needles and tree sap. After two long months of labor, the open road called to her. She reached the edge of the forest and paused to look out across the vast plains of Equestria. The mountainside city of Canterlot was barely visible through the clouds.

Look out, Equestria... here I come!

Bea took a deep breath and stepped forward just as a gargantuan explosion quaked the ground behind her. A cloud of shattered splinters filled the air and pattered against her back. She turned around, slowly, and stared at the jagged boulder that had plummeted out of the sky and crushed her carriage. She sat on her hind-quarters and stared at the wreckage.

What... who... how?

A scattering of personal belongings rained down around her: A box of fireworks, a set of magical books, and a smattering of personal hygiene items. A pointed hat landed on her head and a starry cape drifted down around her shoulders.

Beatrix’s eyes caught a trace of color. There, on the side of the boulder, somepony had inscribed a small pattern: a set of five white stars, arranged around a larger purple star.

“An ‘instant inscription’ spell? Wait a second... I know that cutie mark!” She reared on herhind legs, trembling with rage. “How dare you, Twilight Sparkle! Beatrix swears—No! From this day forth Beatrix is no more! Do you hear me Twilight!? The Great And Powerful Trixie swears that she will have her rev—”

A tinfoil tray of home-made peach cobbler landed on her face, splattering her neck with crumbly breading and sticky juice. She flailed her hooves and fell on her back.

Twilight’s friends watched as she continued to gaze up at the sky for several long seconds.

“That’s right,” she said, “we’ll never know for sure.”

Applejack grabbed Twilight’s safety cable in her mouth and dragged her off.

“Everypony. Library. Now. We’re sortin’ this out once and for all.”

Next Chapter: %i%: Pinkie Pie reconciles the deterministic nature of the cosmos with the metaphysical libertarian view of free will. Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 46 Minutes