“If you do not create your destiny, you will have your fate inflicted upon you.”

William Irwin Thompson

The six friends sat on the floor of Twilight’s bedroom on a circle of cushions. Rarity poured a mug of hot cocoa for each of them and passed the first mug to Twilight.

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Rarity said as she sat down with the final mug. “If you were rock climbing all morning, then where was Spike? Why wasn’t he minding the library while you were absent?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Did you check the sock drawer?”

“...Pardon?”

“Over here,” Dash said. She pulled open the top drawer of Twilight’s dresser and revealed Spike. He rolled over in his sleep, his spines covered with perforated socks.

Rarity’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you wear socks. Not once since you’ve arrived.”

Twilight blushed. “Well, I don’t wear them in public.”

“Less socky more talky,” Applejack said. “Tell us what’s going on and start from the very beginning.”

Twilight sighed and levitated the original scroll to her. “This should explain everything.”

“My word,” Applejack said. “I’ve never seen such fancy script! It looks ancient... did the princess teach you this language herself?”

“It’s cursive.”

Applejack tilted her head in awe. “So majestic! It’s like poetry, but with letters!”

Fluttershy lifted a hoof. “I can read it, if you like.”

Applejack passed her the letter. “I never took you for a pony of the world, Fluttershy. You’ll have to tell us how you picked it up, sometime.”

The group watched as Fluttershy unfurled the scroll. Her eyes moved back and forth as she scanned the letter. She sipped at her mug daintily. The faint sound of birdsong drifted in through a nearby window.

Applejack tapped her shoulder, eliciting a startled squeak.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Aren’t you going to read it out loud for the rest of us?”

“Yeah!” said Pinkie Pie. “Some of us haven’t read it yet.”

“Um. Well. I could do that.” Her eyes darted about the room. “But is it okay if I don’t? I’m not good at reading in front of crowds. Or speaking in front of crowds. Or being in front of crowds.”

“But we’re your friends,” Applejack said, “and there’s only five of us.”

“Yes, but when I read out loud to you it makes you seem like a crowd.” She hid her face behind the scroll. “Just a little crowd.”

“Here, let me try! I’ve been practicing my ‘Celestia’ voice for a puppet show!” Pinkie Pie took the letter and cleared her throat. “From the Desk of Princess Celestia. Dear Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student: I am pleased to hear of your safe return to Ponyville and wish you a swift recovery. However, there is a matter of no small importance: I need somepony to develop a new type of spell to be made publicly available for all, and I can think of nopony better suited to such invention than yourself.

“Unicorns of all levels of experience, from gifted grade schoolers to experimental researchers, are at risk whenever they attempt a spell that is not fully understood. I wish for you to develop a special fail-safe spell that—when cast before another spell—will prevent any unintended consequences that may arise from inexperience or incompetence. Ease of use and versatility are a must: it must be simple enough for even a young filly or colt to use, and it should be equally effective on a wide variety of spells. You may research the spell at your leisure. All I ask is that you send brief weekly reports on your progress. I am sure your unique experiences will be invaluable for this special project.

“On less formal matters, Alectryon is doing quite well and seems to have grown accustomed to his new home. Philomeena also sends her regards, and Luna thanks you for your advice about how to keep the ladybird beetles out of her herb garden. I’ve also included a new prescription for you, since the apothecary has changed the formula of your usual cream. Please let me know if you experience any undue swelling or itching after—”

“No-no-no wait!” Twilight’s horn glowed, and the scroll whipped out of Pinkie Pie’s hooves. “So that’s, uh... yeah. That’s everything.”

Twilight grinned at her friends for a moment.

Rarity looked down at herself. “There’s a cream for that now?”

“So the princess wants you to make a new spell,” Applejack said. “I still don’t see what bungee jumping and hang-gliding has to do with any of that.”

Twilight took a deep breath. “I’ve already finished designing the fail-safe spell. The problem is that I can’t test it because none of my spells ever fail. If my spells never fail, I can’t know for sure if the fail-safe is really working.”

“I think I understand,” said Pinkie Pie. “Why don’t you just make a mistake on purpose?”

“I’ve tried, but that’s not enough. The spell has to be able to catch unintended consequences. I need to test it on a genuine mistake.”

“Well then,” Fluttershy said, “why not invent a spell that’s broken on purpose?”

“That won’t work either,” said Twilight. “An intentionally broken spell has only one purpose: To fail. And when it fails, the fail-safe thinks it succeeded. It did exactly what it was supposed to do: fail.”

“Let’s take a moment to think back,” said Applejack. “Your spells have failed in the past, haven’t they? Remember when you tried to use magic during Winter Wrap up? And that want-it-need-it spell was a terrible disaster.”

Dash nodded. “Celestia showed up herself to fix it.”

“I know... but how am I supposed to reproduce that sort of thing under laboratory conditions?”

“There was that other fail-safe spell you used, when Discord first showed up. That failed, didn’t it?”

“Technically, there was nothing wrong with the ‘fix-everything’ spell. Discord’s magic was just powerful enough to overwhelm it.”

“Well then,” said Pinkie Pie, “why not get somepony else to test it for you? Have Rarity try it out. She’s way dumber than you.”

Everypony looked at Rarity.

“No offense,” said Pinkie Pie.

“None taken. I suppose it’s true, to an extent.”

“Oh, not at all!” said Twilight. “You’re certainly not dumber than me.”

“Well, it’s kind of you to say so.”

“I’m just way smarter than you. Way, way, way... way smarter than you.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “I see.”

“Wow!” Pinkie Pie said. “That’s four ways! So why can’t Rarity test the spell for you? I bet she’d mess it up every time!”

“Seriously,” said Rarity, “I’m not that dumb.”

“Firstly,” Twilight said, “Princess Celestia asked me to test this spell. I’m not going to pass it off to somepony else. She chose me for a reason. Secondly, the fail-safe spell isn’t fully tested yet. It’s still a prototype. There could be all sorts of side effects I haven’t even thought of! Thirdly, if Rarity is truly dumb enough to ruin a basic spell, then she’s also too dumb to know why the fail-safe failed. If she can’t write a proper error report, I won’t know what to fix.”

Rarity looked to the rest of the group. “Do I come off as dumb? Is it something about my voice? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t say you were,” said Twilight. “I only said that if you were dumb enough to help me out, you’d also be too dumb to help me out. It was hypothetical.”

“I can see I’m going to need more hot cocoa for this.” Rarity stood up and went to the kitchen.

Applejack set a reassuring hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “You need to calm down a little. I’m sure Celestia will understand if you—”

Twilight pushed her hoof away. “Don’t you get it? Celestia said that my unique experiences would be invaluable for this special project! What if the failsafe spell is for me? What if she thinks my magic could be dangerous? What if she thinks I’m... irresponsible!?”

Twilight’s friends all looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“Come on, Twi,” Rainbow Dash said. “I think if she doubted your magic, she would have mentioned it by now.”

“Has she mentioned it?” Fluttershy said. “When was the last time she complained about your skills?”

“Never,” Twilight said, “but it’s been a really long time since she said anything encouraging, either!”

Princess Celestia walked into her private chambers and sat at her writing desk. Her maid servant was already waiting for her with a tea trolley, assembling an evening snack.

“Would her highness care for some cranberry jelly with her crumpets?”

“Yes, please. And thank you, Spring Fresh.” Celestia unfurled a fresh sheet of paper. “Were there any letters while I was away?”

“Not a one, your highness. Philomeena hasn’t regurgitated a thing in hours.” The maid set a teacup on her desk. “Are you worried about your student? I hear you gave her quite an assignment recently.”

“Oh, it’s nothing difficult. Not for her, at least. We needed a more reliable failsafe spell for the students going through magic kindergarten. That’s all.”

“Are you sure she won’t blow it out of proportion again? What if she assumes the failsafe spell is for her?”

“Don’t be silly, Spring Fresh. She knows how much I appreciate her! Why just last month, I sent her a letter praising her magical research skills. It was positively glowing with encouragement!” Celestia leaned her head and gazed up and to the left in fond remembrance.

Spike clenched his fists, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “I am a real dragon!”

“Oh yeah?” said Garble. “Prove it!”

“Well, how?”

“By acting like one.” Garble turned and shouted at the rest of the teenage dragons. “Who’s up for a little belching contest?”

The gang of answered with a raucous cheer that echoed across the crater of the partially extinct volcano. A few of the adult dragons took notice of the challenging roars and watched as the youths prepared to reinforce their own little pecking order. They each stepped forward in turn and exhaled a gout of flame that stank of salt and brimstone. Each blast was larger, longer, and more revolting than the previous one.

Spike wrung his claws. Oh, man! Am I the only dragon who has green fire? Is that normal? Maybe they won’t notice.

Garble jabbed Spike with a talon. “You think you can beat that, pee-wee?”

Spike swallowed a lump in his throat and stepped up. He took a breath, but felt a tickle in his throat at the last second. Oh no... not now! Why did it have to be now!?

He belched out a green wisp of smokeless, pine-scented flame. A neatly wrapped scroll materialized out of thin air and the gang of teenage dragons muttered amongst themselves. Garble snatched up the scroll and broke the sealed ribbon before Spike could say a word.

“From the desk of Princess Celestia. Dear Spike: Please tell—” Garble’s squint of concentration changed to wide-eyed mockery. “Get this, guys! Spike’s pen-pals with a namby-pamby pony princess!”

Spike clenched his teeth and glanced around as the gang laughed and jeered. He winced as Garble crumpled the letter and tossed it into a nearby pool of lava.

Celestia continued to gaze up and to the left, but her smile faded slightly. “Although now that I think back on it, she never did send a response.”

“Good evening, Celestia!” The doors to her private chambers opened wide, and young Princess Namby Pamby stepped in. “I hope I’m not late for tea!”

“Not at all! Please have a seat. How have you been since your graduation?”

“Well it’s only a grade-school graduation of course,” she said, “but I’ve been given a full scholarship and I can’t wait to go into journalism! You were absolutely right: The public school was much more exciting than a private tutor!”

Celestia smiled and nodded to her maid. “That will be all, Spring Fresh. Thank you.”

“See you in the morning your highness,” Spring Fresh said as she pushed the tea trolley along. “And don’t you fret. That student of yours has learned a great deal since she moved to Ponyville. I’m sure she knows this isn’t something to worry about.”

Applejack watched as Twilight hugged herself, trembling with worry.

She’s probably blowin’ this way out of proportion... but what if she isn’t? Remember what happened the last time you brushed her off like nuthin’ was wrong?

Twilight stared at the floor. “I just don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything I can think of, and all of it worked. I’m at the end of my rope!”

Pinkie Pie hopped in place. “Oh, oh! Are you at the end of your magic rooster-wrangling rope? Do you have any more of that lying around?”

“Pinkie, please. Not now.”

“No, wait,” Dash said. “I think we’ve got something here. Why not have Pinkie Pie distract you in the middle of a spell? Nopony can surprise like she can. It’s her purpose in life.”

“But that wouldn’t be fun!” said Pinkie Pie. “It would be work!”

“Pinkie, we’ve tried everything! Super complicated spells, distracting conditions—”

“Applejack!” Pinkie Pie said. “What about her? She hasn’t come up with any ideas yet! Let’s ask her!”

Twilight nodded to Applejack. “Can you think of anything? Anything at all?”

“Hm...” Applejack leaned her head back and gazed idly upward. “Have you tried...?”

The circle of friends leaned forward as Applejack continued to tilt her head back, still staring at the ceiling.

“Aw, shucks,” she said. “I got nuthin’.”

Twilight fell on her side with an exasperated sigh.

Dash shook her head. “I still think we should get Pinkie Pie to take a shot at it. She was born for this sort of thing.”

“Absolutely not!” Pinkie Pie said. She frowned at Dash without a trace of humor. “My surprises are meant to make ponies happy. I refuse to abuse my special talents in such a way!”

Twilight’s lower lip trembled. “Not even for science?”

“No, no and no, and then some more no. A whole box full of no, wrapped in a big giant bow of no. A no bow! Surprises aren’t science at all. They’re an art.” Pinkie Pie stopped frowning, but her voice remained urgent. “A really good surprise can’t be measured or analyzed. You just have to accept it for what it is, or it turns into an unhappy surprise! No good can come of that!”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “It’s just one little surprise! Can’t you help me out here?”

“A fake surprise!?” Pinkie Pie shot to her feet, furious. “That’s the last thing I’d do to a friend!”

The others stared at her, stunned.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Pinkie Pie stood up and tromped to the kitchen. “Please don’t ask again.”

Twilight watched her leave. She looked to her friends. “Do you think I should—

“Oh yeah,” Applejack said, “and I’d be quick about it if I were you.”

Twilight peered into the kitchen. Pinkie Pie was pouring flour into a large bowl, frowning morosely. Rarity was beside her, pouring spoonfuls of sugar and powdered chocolate into a boiling kettle.

Twilight stepped inside and rubbed her knee against her leg. “Could you give us a minute alone? I need to apologize.”

Rarity smiled at her. “There’s no need, Twilight. I know you didn’t really mean to—”

“Actually, I was hoping to apologize to Pinkie Pie.”

Rarity pursed her lips. She set the kettle on a tray and walked past her. “I scored twenty-one hundred on my S.A.T, you know. I have two degrees. Business management and finance.”

Twilight stepped sideways as she walked past. Pinkie Pie continued to stare into her mixing bowl.

Twilight went to her side. “I’m sorry I tried to pressure you. It’s just that this is really important to the princess.”

“Sugar’s in the third cabinet to the left.”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Her horn glowed and a bag of granulated sugar hovered onto the counter.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“You aren’t doing this because it’s important to Celestia.” Pinkie poured some sugar into a measuring cup. “You’re doing it because it’s important to you.”

“But it must be important to her, or she never would have asked me to help!”

“Sure it is... but that’s not why you’re doing it! It’s the same mistake you always make, over and over.” Pinkie Pie turned to her, mournful. “I would gladly use my gift to help Celestia. But this just seems selfish.”

Twilight looked into her eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this before. Is it really that important to you?”

Pinkie Pie went back to the mixing bowl. “You know about my Pinkie sense, don’t you?”

“How can I not?”

“Well there’s more to it than that.” She nodded to a shelf on the far wall. “Baking pans. Three of ’em. And coat the insides with vegetable grease. The Pinkie sense isn’t something that affects only me. The signs are all around us, and I’m just the only one who can see them. And you know what?”

Twilight shook her head as she greased the pans.

“My sense has never warned me about anything that was entirely my fault.” Pinkie Pie sprinkled flour into the greased pans. “We were meant to make mistakes. It’s our destiny.”

“But I don’t make mistakes.”

“And see what happens? You aren’t learning.” Pinkie Pie added a host of dry ingredients to the mixture, then cracked an egg into a seperate bowl of milk. “You need to let go and learn to make real mistakes instead of fake ones. It’s how we learn. And learning should be fun.”

Twilight sighed. “You’re the only pony I know of who takes fun so seriously.”

Pinkie pie poured the wet bowl into the larger one and took a whisk to it.

“Fun is more powerful than you could ever imagine, Twilight. It’s what gives us hope when all seems lost. It drives us to learn and grow, to laugh and love... it’s what our cutie marks represent.” Her voice took on a profound tone. “The fun is what gives a pony her power. It’s an emotional field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds Equestria together.”

Twilight’s voice was hushed. “What are you saying?”

Pinkie Pie looked at her. “You must listen, Twilight... there is another side to the fun. One side is light and fuzzy... but the other is dark, and covered with lots and lots of tiny plastic hooks. And when these two sides press together, the hooks stick onto the fuzzy stuff. And when you pull it apart, it makes a really scratchy noise.”

“You mean like velcro?”

“Exactly!” Pinkie Pie said. “Fun is exactly like velcro! I could play with it for hours. I love that sound! Scrrritch! Scrrritch! Scrrritch!”

Twilight closed her eyes and tapped the bridge of her nose. “If you didn’t want to help me, you could have just said so.”

“Oh, I can help you.” Pinkie Pie poured the batter into each of the baking pans and turned the oven on. “Just not directly. If you’re going to engineer a mistake on purpose, you need to do it properly. You need to tempt fate.”

“...Fate?”

“You need to do something so utterly outrageous, so deeply and deliciously audacious, that fate will have no choice but to make everything go horribly wrong. You need to throw a pie in fate’s face, blow a raspberry at it, then put a great big bullseye on your flank and bend over.” Pinkie Pie opened the oven and set the trays on the middle rack. “It’s like... if you’re trying to juggle eggs by yourself, in the privacy of your own backyard, nothing will go wrong. But if you juggle those same exact eggs while standing on a priceless imported carpet, you’re at a huge disadvantage. And if all your friends are watching you, just waiting for you to embarrass yourself, it doesn’t matter how good a juggler you are. Those eggs are going to go splat. You’re destined for slapstick!”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Twilight sighed and trudged to the door. “Thanks for nothing. I’m sorry for whatever I was going to apologize for. Good luck with your cake.”

Pinkie Pie rushed over before she could leave the kitchen. “Why don’t you believe me? Think about the things we’ve done, and all the things that have happened to us! We live charmed lives, the six of us: bizarre, weird, wonderful lives! Sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes hilarious! How can you not believe in destiny?”

“I understand that there are some things we just have to accept,” said Twilight. “But this is just too much. I’m sorry.”

Pinkie Pie took a deep breath and returned her gaze.

“All right.”

Twilight’s ears perked up. “What?”

“I’ll prove that fate exists. If it will make you believe, then I’ll show you. Just this once.” She pointed a hoof in her face. “But in exchange, you’ll never ask me to prove it again. And you never get to make fun of it. You can make fun of anything else you like. But not this.”

Twilight stared at her hoof. “Well, all right. But how are you going to prove it?”

Pinkie Pie licked a lock of Twilight’s hair and held it up, testing the wind. She took out a tiny tuning fork and struck it against her horn, listening to the perfect note.

“Aaaaaahh. Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do...” She cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Oh, my goodness gracious! I’ve almost finished baking some birthday cakes for the orphanage in Cloudesdale, but there’s a terrible storm warning and all the mail offices are closed! However will the cakes arrive in time for the birthday party?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but Pinkie Pie put a hoof against her lips.

Pinkie took out a stopwatch. “Five. Four. Three.” She mouthed the last two numbers silently, then pointed ahead. A crash shook the treehouse and a clatter of books fell from the shelves in the next room.

Pinkie Pie smirked. “Am I good, or what?”

Twilight rushed into the main hall and saw Rainbow Dash on the floor, hugging her wing.

“Dash! What have I told you about flying in the library!?”

“Sorry, Twi! I just got so bored waiting for you, I decided to show Fluttershy a new trick I’ve been working on. I guess it got a little out of hoof.” She winced, and her left wing twitched. “This sprain is gonna keep me grounded all day! Why does this always happen to me?”

Pinkie Pie came in and gasped at the mess. “Oh, goodness me! Just when I needed a brave and athletic pegasus to deliver a batch of cakes to the Cloudsdale orphanage! Whatever shall I do?”

“You’re kidding me!” Dash said. “Fluttershy will just have to deliver them all by herself. There’s no other way!”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “There are plenty of other pegasus in town. We could—”

Pinkie Pie clamped a hoof over her mouth. “Rainbow Dash is right! Fluttershy will just have to deliver them all by herself. There’s no other way!”

Fluttershy recoiled in horror. “But it’s stormy season! I’m not a good enough flyer! And I never fly between cities alone!”

“Wait. What?” Twilight turned to Pinkie Pie. “There’s a real storm warning? Didn’t you just make that up?”

Dash sighed. “Sorry, Pinkie Pie. I guess those cakes aren’t going anywhere.”

“But they’re birthday cakes!” Pinkie Pie said. “There’s no point if they’re a day late!”

Fluttershy dropped to the floor and took a deep breath. “I have to try. Those orphans will get a happy birthday if it’s the last thing I do!” She went to the front door and glanced back. “I’ll go get my cold weather gear and be back in an hour to pick up the cakes.”

Pinkie Pie smiled brightly. “I’ll have ’em covered in icing and gumdrops before you know it!”

“Hey,” Dash said with a smile, “I knew you had it in you, Fluttershy. Really.”

Fluttershy swallowed a lump in her throat. “That makes one of us, at least.” She opened the door and left the library.

Pinkie Pie dragged Twilight to the entrance and waved at Fluttershy. “I’m sure you’ll do fine! Remember to overcome some sort of personal limitation or character flaw while you're out there! And maybe learn something about friendship while you’re at it!”

Twilight stared at Fluttershy as she walked down the street. She turned to Pinkie Pie, slack jawed. Pinkie was still waving and grinning.

“How—”

Pinkie Pie’s shining smile snapped into a piercing glower. Twilight froze as they locked eyes.

“You’ll never ask me to do this again,” Pinkie Pie said. “And you’ll never make fun of it.”

Twilight watched her march down the road. A gust of cool wind buffeted the branches of her treehouse. A single icy raindrop landed on her nose. Ponies rushed indoors and shuttered their windows as dark clouds roiled above.

Rainbow Dash watched as Twilight came back into the library. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it.

“You okay there? You might want to batten down the hatches, and all that. Storm warning and all.”

Twilight stared ahead. Dash followed her gaze, but she didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular.

“Twi? Something wrong?”

“I gotta go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“I have to find a shop or a warehouse full of fine china dinnerware. I need to practice juggling a whole bunch of bowling balls.”

Dash watched as Twilight threw on a rain cloak and left the library.

Applejack came in from the next room. “You okay there, R.D.?”

“Oh, sure... It’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” She nodded to the exit. “Hey, do you think maybe Twilight is taking this a little too seriously?”

“She takes everything too seriously. If you ask me, she could stand to learn a little something from Pinkie Pie. Might lighten her up a little.”

Next Chapter: %i%: Pinkie Pie wins a pickled-onion eating contest. Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 28 Minutes