Once upon a time, in the days of Megan the Destroyer, when the world was new and ponies first came to Equestria after the death of Queen Majesty, there was a wizened little creature called the Moochick who was the only being willing to teach magic to the young race of ponies.

“Teach us!” they cried, and sat patiently while he shifted his old bones into a more comfortable position on his mushroom chair.

“I will only teach magic to the race of ponies who is able to build me a house,” he responded.

The three races of ponies raced away to complete the task, each of them eager to prove they were the ponies who deserved magic. The earth ponies built him a strong house of bricks, tall with many windows and doors. The unicorns constructed a house of crystal, with tall towers and parapets. And the pegasi built a huge cloud mansion with flowing fountains and colorful rainbows.

Returning to him, they watched as he examined their work.

“Bricks?” he asked, looking in the earth pony house. “They are rough and will scratch my sensitive books until there is nothing left but tatters. No, this simply will not do.”

“Ouch!” he declared when looking into the unicorn house of crystals. “How sharp these walls are, and the light pours through at all times of the day. My precious books will all be ruined and faded. No, this also will not do.”

The cloud house he simply looked up at, standing on the ground with his hands on his hips.

“No, my little ponies,” he said. “None of these houses will do. But do not despair. I shall give you one more chance to prove your worth.”

The three races of ponies trudged away, dejected and disappointed, until a young earth pony said, “He told us all the things he does not like in a house, but what does he like?”

They all sat and thought for a while.

“He likes plants and trees,” said an earth pony. “Perhaps we could make him a tree house.”

“He does not like to be high in the air,” said a pegasus. “Could the house be inside a tree?”

“That would be too small,” said a unicorn. “He loves his books. A house inside a tree would be too small to fit them all unless we could make it grow.”

“I’m good at making apple trees grow,” said the earth pony, “but they’re not very big. We would need something bigger, like an oak.”

“I know where the largest oak tree in the forest is,” said the unicorn. “I shall bring back an acorn, and if you can make it grow, it will make a fine house.”

“I can bring water and give the tree plenty of sunshine,” said the pegasus.

And the three races of ponies each eagerly went to their task. The unicorn brought back the largest acorn that anypony had ever seen, the earth pony buried it in the richest soil she could find, and the pegasus brought cloud after cloud of water to make it grow. Sooner than they expected, a large oak tree graced their tiny village, and the Moochick looked it over with a nod of his head.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed. “I shall move in at once.”

“But what of our magic?” asked the ponies.

The Moochick laughed. “Silly ponies. You have had your magic all along. The earth ponies had the magic of making things grow, the pegasi have the magic of the sky that they use to bring forth the rain and the sunshine, and the unicorns possess the magic of knowledge.”

Both the pegasus and the earth pony nodded their heads, as the Moochick was wise indeed, but the unicorn was still troubled.

“There are many things in the world for us to learn, but so few unicorns. How can we best learn what we do not know and pass our knowledge on to others?”

The Moochick laughed again. “You are the silliest of all ponies. The answer is in what you have built, for this tree shall contain books in which you will write that which needs to be passed down to others, and in which you will find the knowledge which you seek.”

And all of the ponies nodded their heads at the wisdom of the wise old creature, and declared that there would be a gathering place for knowledge in each of the cities that they built as their numbers grew. The pegasi and unicorns built huge libraries in Canterlot and Cloudsdale, but the earth ponies took the acorns from that first hollow oak and planted them across Equestria in every small town and village, so that the knowledge that they contained could always be nearby, and that the lesson of the Moochick would never be forgotten.

Six little ponies curled up together on the large and lumpy bed that slumped in the corner of the Golden Oak Library, but there were no snores echoing around the small bedroom stuffed into the crown of the old hollow tree. Instead, the sheets had been peaked up in the middle by a couple of convenient sticks, and a small firefly lantern illuminated six little faces as they sat in silent contemplation of of the story they had just heard. Once Scootaloo had started talking, her story had spilled out in one long bust until she came to the end with an abrupt stop, so like what had almost occurred to her that it made them all suppress a shudder.

Twist was the first to move, pulling out a juice box and a cinnamon stick out of her sidesaddle and giving them to Scootaloo, once she had managed the tricky task of poking the tiny little straw into the tough box and taking a quick sip first to ensure it was cold enough. Featherweight was the second, lifting one hoof and gently punching Scootaloo in the shoulder.

“Dude,” he said. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Scootaloo took a long slurp from her juicebox and bit down on the cinnamon stick. “I should have told all of you before doing anything that dumb.”

“Not that,” he protested. “I mean it would have made one heck of a shot.”

Five little ponies picked up pillows.

The windows to the tree on the edge of the Everfree Forest swung almost silently open as Princess Luna drifted inside to a perfect landing. She paused, looking at the three unicorns and one zebra who were bent over several sheets of thick paper, and ignoring her graceful entrance.

“Ahem.”

Trixie waved frantically. “Just a minute, Princess,” she hissed, not taking her attention away from the rather tranquil male unicorn who was reading down a sheet of the Zebrican runes as if it were a newspaper while the two other unicorns in the room scribbled away on their own notes.

After waiting the requested minute and possibly several seconds longer, the Princess of the Night cleared her throat again, only a little more forcefully. This attracted the attention of Zecora, who picked up several damp sheets of paper and spread them out in front of Luna.

“Forgive us, my princess, for being so gruff. The work of this night has been rather rough. The knowledge of my tribes is hidden quite well, but the solution to one, your Trixie will tell.”

“Fascinating,” said Luna, looking down the sheets of paper and their meticulous translations. “Another’s come with wretched wings. What kind of evil will it bring?” She turned the sheet over and checked the front. “Aaesunuthluth. So that was her name. Their records are quite accurate considering my trip to Zebrica was nearly a century before my banishment. I should drop by some evening, just to see how things have changed.”

“Very little, I suppose,” said Zecora. “One thing comes, another goes. Only chaos, hatred and spite, will greet you there, in your blessed night.”

“Wonderful place you’re planning on sending Menace to,” said Trixie, standing and stretching with several sheets of paper held in her magical field. “I think we’ve stressed Cypher out enough for the evening. Miss Grace, why don’t you take him downstairs and tuck him into the guest bedroom to recover.”

Zecora looked up with a frown. “There is no extra bedroom in my tree. There is only space for Flower and me.”

“I walked right by it on my way up,” said Trixie with a matching frown that wound up directed at the vanishing flank of the zebra as she slipped out the door, only for Zecora to return in a few minutes with the most peculiar expression.

“There are two extra rooms in my old tree,” said Zecora. “Please bring your friend and follow me.”

Trixie continued her somehow annoying shuffling of the translated papers, putting them in order and reading through them with seeming disdain for the rest of the universe, or at least until her particular room in the universe was somewhat less populated.

“So,” she started, “did you get Menace and her little friend situated?”

Luna nodded. “I did gather her and all of the element bearers together and placed them within your room at the library, where Scootaloo was speaking with them before I departed.”

With a glance out the window as if she was looking for the light of a distant burning library, Trixie slowly nodded too. “I suppose my fire suppression spells will hold them for the night. You just left them there?”

“I thought it advisable that they be supervised, so I sent your dragon to retrieve one of your friends to watch over them this evening. She is a generous and kind soul, although I had to promise a ‘sitting’ in return for the favor. Tell me, is this Rarity a painter of some sort?”

Trixie shuddered. “No. It’s far worse.”

The drifting feathers of ruptured pillows still floated around the library as the five little fillies rearranged themselves on top of a rather lumpy pile of bedcovers that constantly tried to rearrange itself with several muffled exclamations.

“Now that we have our resident jokester taken care of,” stated Apple Bloom, “let’s move on to the next item on our agenda. How are we going to get Scootaloo to fly?”

“Thee thertaintly ith throng enouth to fly. Thee’th even thronger than Featherweight,” said Twist, surreptitiously slipping a cinnamon stick under the covers for the trapped pegasus colt.

“I am?” asked Scootaloo.

“You sure are,” said Sweetie Belle. “You can pull all four of us across town fast enough to scare the bejeebers out of my sister.”

“But I can’t fly! Watch.” Little orange wings buzzed into full volume as Scootaloo slowly lifted off from the bed in a blizzard of leftover feathers from the ruptured pillows, hovered for a few seconds by sheer force of will, and sagged back onto the bed with a gasp for breath.

“Sounds different than Featherweight,” said Monster, blinking away a feather that had gotten stuck on one eyelash.

A faint mumbling came from under the bedcovers, sounding much like an agreement, but the sound of somepony coming up the stairs quickly made the rest of the little fillies scurry around in a well-practiced maneuver.

Rarity peeked in through Trixie’s bedroom door and tried not to giggle at the sight of five little fillies sprawled out across the covers in various uncomfortable-looking poses and emitting a variety of off-key snores and snorts.

“The poor little dears,” she whispered, “all tired out after their exciting night. I’ll have to see if Spikey-Wikey can make them something extra-special for breakfast tomorrow.” She closed the door and slipped down the stairs as quietly as possible, making herself comfortable on the old lumpy couch next to the snoring little dragon and adjusting her sleep mask for a resumption of her nightly slumber.

“Clear,” whispered Sweetie Belle as she scurried back into the room, her task of big-sister checking having been declared a success. “She’s got her sleep mask on, so we’re good for whatever we’re going to do tonight.”

“So what are we going to do tonight?” asked Scootaloo.

“First step in science.” Twilight began removing books from the shelves and floating them in front of her little friends. “Research. Need to collect data.”

After several minutes of dedicated examination of the books that Twilight picked off the walls, Twist looked up and held out a book that showed a pegasus in an outfit made out of straps and buckles. “This lookth interething. It thays that Wonderbolth train in a wind tunnel with high-thpeed camerath to watch their wingth flap and all kindth of thress and thrain gageth to meathure their wingpower.”

“We could measure her pulling power with some of the apple scales we use out at the farm,” said Apple Bloom.

“We still have that rope from when we tried to get our cutie marks in macrame,” said Scootaloo, being drawn out of her sulk by the magic word of ‘Wonderbolth.’

“Rarity has a number of outfits that look like that tucked away in a locked drawer back at home,” said Sweetie Belle.

Wedging his face out from under the pile of pillows and covers on top of him, Featherweight added, “My uncle Film Strip has a bunch of movies in his rental store. I think the back room has a bunch that have to do with wings, because he won’t let me back there, but I read the titles in the checkout book. They’re like Fast Fillies of Ridgemount High and Feathers Forever: A Vixen’s Story so they must be about pegasi.”

“Cheerilee hath a movie projector at the thchool,” said Twist. “We could thet it up downstairth in the library if all thothe big crateth of Trixie’th weren’t there.”

“They’re done with the first floor of Town Hall,” said Apple Bloom, “and my brother knows all of the delivery drivers in town. I’ll bet I can get him to move ‘em all over there tomorrow morning, before the sun is even up.” Her eyes slowly drifted over to where Twilight was drawing out a blank chart for the collection of elusive data points. “Twilight. Is there anything you want to do?”

“Charts. Attachment points for the rigging. Strain gage placement.” The little purple alicorn hunched her back and the slow, precise scribbling of lines on the paper slowed to a halt. “Need to write note to Diamond Tiara’s mother and father. Words hard. Don’t want to sound mean. Or mushy. Serious.”

“You don’t have to only uthe wordth,” said Twist.

“I think I’ve got a couple pictures of that area from our class trip out there last year,” suggested Featherweight.

“I wish you could take Mister Rich there,” groused Scootaloo. “He never believes anything bad about Diamond Tiara, no matter what we say.”

“What about her mother?” asked Twilight.

“She doesn’t have one,” said Sweetie Belle. “She says her Daddy is just perfect, and she doesn’t need a mother.”

“Everypony has a mother,” protested Twilight, cringing back a little from the pained look she got from Apple Bloom. “Sorry. Forgot.”

“That’s all right, Twilight. Mah mother died a long time ago. I don’t even remember her, other than pictures, an’ that ain’t the same.”

“Is her mother dead? Twilight had hunched over so far that her nose almost touched the floor. “Did I kill her back when…”

“No!” An impromptu pony-pile of little bodies quickly surrounded Twilight to provide reassuring pressure from all sides. “Thee wath born in Manehattan,” said Twist once the reassurance had calmed down a little and Twilight was breathing normally. “And thee’s not twelve yet, tho you couldn’t have had anything to do with her mother. Bethides, Printheth Celethtia thaid you didn’t kill anypony when you took your extham.”

A subtle change in the surrounding pressure caused Twilight to shift her attention to Sweetie Belle, laying her head against her friend’s neck and crossing horns with her. “You’re afraid of the test too. Don’t worry.”

Scootaloo leaned up against her friends and ran a hoof through Sweetie Belle’s mane. “So does that mean you’re still taking the test for Celestia’s school this fall, Sweetie?”

“I-I don’t know.” She shuddered and huddled closer to her friends. “I thought so, but Princess Celestia’s school seems like such a big step. Mom and Dad seem to think it’s a good idea after seeing my scores from the evaluation, but if I get in, I’ll be in Canterlot for most of the year, every year. I’ll miss my parents and I’ll miss all you girls. And Featherweight.”

“Being away from your parents isn’t all that bad,” said Scootaloo. “Especially when you find friends to be with.”

“But it’s so far away,” protested Sweetie Belle. “I don’t know anypony there, and all of the other ponies are probably so much better at magic than I am, and my parents are here, and you girls are here and all I want to do is just fail so I can come back. I don’t want anything to change!”

“Changes happen,” murmured Twilight, ruffling her wings to make her point. “Seize the day and put the least possible trust in tomorrow. Today, we help Scootaloo fly.”

“And tomorrow?” asked Scootaloo.

“Tomorrow will be a new today. We’ll face it together. As friends.”