“What were you thinking, Dashie?”

Pinkie Pie’s exasperated sigh resounded through the kitchen once again, and the pegasus’s eyes failed to connect to her own. Rainbow Dash was supposed to have been on weather duty, and due to her disregard for it that day the ensuing clouds had already begun to smother the sky, a hint of unneeded rain swelling above.

Dash’s bloodshot eyes meandered bitterly back and forth as she clutched her own emerald colored bottle, the cool wood of the cabinets beneath the sink nudging her wings close to her body. Pinkie Pie mimicked her sitting position, miserably slumped against the wall just across from her. Because of the way they sat, Pinkie’s back hoof was just barely bumping against Rainbow Dash’s, who was sprawled out opposite her.

“I don’t think I was,” Rainbow Dash finally croaked, swilling the hard cider around. Pinkie Pie took another long swig from hers, nearly emptying her bottle. Her flattened mane made effort to hide her face, but Pinkie resisted it to keep her eyes on the pegasus. “I was just… just mad.”

Pinkie said nothing, only slowly rubbing the ankle of her hoof against Rainbow’s for a moment, her eyes drifting off into the distance. Dash hated seeing her unhappy, downcast gaze at any time, but this time it seemed to strike a little closer to home. Like she had personally disappointed her.

“Rich said he’s not going to push charges,” Dash breathed, eyes locked onto Pinkie’s chest and staring right through it. The numbness on her tongue made it a little difficult to pronounce properly, and she chugged the rest of her cider before dropping it into the small pile between them. “Not if I turn myself in for ‘therapy’.”

Her scowl returned, tinged with bitterness and mild anger.

“He’s not bad,” Pinkie shook her head, which had begun to grow a little fuzzy. “He just wants you to get some help. I want what’s best for you too, Dashie.”

“I know. I know,” Dash’s drunken stare became more sullen as her eyes dropped away from the pink mare. Anything to avoid looking her in the eyes. Anything to keep from seeing that awful, disappointed and tearful look. “I know, Pinks. You know how I feel ‘bout hospitals ‘n the like.”

“This will be diff’rent, o-okay?” Pinkie coughed into her hoof, forcing herself not to slur. She gently set aside her bottle, blearily glowering at the steadily growing pile of glass in the floor that they had been making these past few hours. She leaned forward carefully, hoof resting on Rainbow Dash’s extended leg.

“I promise, Dashie. Ev-everything’ll be okay. Okay?”

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to reply, but simply shook her head.

“Don’t want to,” she muttered. “Jus’ quit looking at me like that.”

“Please, Dashie. I want you to Pinkie Promise me,” she looked at her seriously, brushing a lock of flattened mane from her face. “C’mon. Pinkie Promise me you’ll go. Please.”

Rainbow Dash failed to look at her for the longest time, but finally placed her own hoof on top of Pinkie’s with a dull nod.

“… I Pinkie Promise. Happy?”

“I’ll be happy again when you’re happy again.” Pinkie nodded solemnly. Her baby blue eyes started to tear up again, but she seemed to be fine with another harsh shake of her head.

“Maybe I don’t deserve to be happy,” Dash murmured, eyes hazily watching a distant image somewhere behind Pinkie Pie’s head.

“Hey.” She nudged her back hoof, forcing a tiny smile. “Hey now, don’t say that. Maybe thing’s – maybe it’ll all be okay.”

“… Maybe…” Rainbow Dash’s eyes slowly filtered down from whatever she had been looking at, her memory already fading. Her chest felt oddly heavy, but her mind was unusually sharp. It was likely that the alcohol was hurting her stomach, but perhaps that was just everything else and she was attributing it incorrectly. “Maybe we should have, you know…”

“Drunken sex on the kitchen table?” Pinkie winked at her.

“That one talk.”

The change was instantaneous.

“Wh- no, no no no!” Pinkie Pie cringed. “Dashie-”

“Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash hushed her with a bump of her hoof, by which they were still connected. “C’mon. I think… I think it’s time.”

“No, Dashie – we said we weren’t going to talk about it,” she pleaded, wringing her hooves. “We said-”

“I know what we said,” the pegasus crossed her hooves over her chest, but made no other movements. “I know, Pinkie. But maybe it’s time for it.”

Pinkie started to argue, but bit her tongue. She took an arduously long, deep breath, straining to keep herself under control.

“… Yeah,” her voice just barely began to crack. “Maybe.”

“I mean,” Dash shifted uncomfortably, dragging herself back to reality. “I mean, we knew we’d talk about breaking up eventually. ‘S why we never made anything, you know…”

“Official.” Pinkie Pie finished for her, glumly meeting her gaze at last. “We don’t have to.”

“Don’t have to make it official, or don’t have to break up?” she blinked, cracking open another bottle of cider.

“Rainbow Dash.”

Dash blurrily looked up at Pinkie, whose features were even more miserable than before.

“… Yeah, Pinks.”

“C’mere,” Pinkie struggled to stand. “I wanna show you something.”

Rainbow Dash watched her drag herself into another room, and she wearily forced herself to follow. She heard the sound of Pinkie Pie rummaging in one of the hallway closets for a few seconds before returning to the living room, flushed but a little more active.

“This,” Pinkie Pie carefully placed the clunky wooden box on the living room sofa, “I showed you this, right?”

“Yep.” She nodded eventually. “The music box?”

“My Granny Pie’s old music box,” Pinkie agreed as she wound up the key. A sad, slow and haunting tune with an oddly upbeat ring to it began to play, the tinkling tune drifting cheerfully through the air. “I used to love listening to this song.”

Pinkie Pie stared at it for a moment more and shook her head before turning to Rainbow Dash, standing a little straighter.

“Rainbow Dash,” she asked, her voice a little more husky. There was a strange look in her eyes, and a prickle began to raise on the back of Dash’s neck. “May I have this dance?”

“Pinkie Pie,” Dash replied slowly. “You’re acting kind of, uh… weird. I mean-”

“Please?” Pinkie’s voice started to crack again, and Rainbow Dash finally saw through the façade. There was a shard of sadness behind her eyes, regardless of which face she tried to hide it with. Pinkie wasn’t being particularly strange at all; she was trying to keep from breaking down.

The only sound in the air was that of the music box for a little while, neither of them making a single move.

Rainbow Dash ever so slowly cupped her hoof in Pinkie Pie’s, who gripped her tightly and pulled her into a warm hug. Pinkie Pie slowly guided her back and forth as they danced in unhurried tune to the music box, gradually spinning in a leisurely waltz. Pinkie rested her head on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder as they danced, gently spinning around and around.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Pinkie hummed, although her voice was joyless. She struggled with her slightly shaking chest, straining with all of her might. “I mean, maybe a-a little t-time apart will be good for both of us. You k-know?”

“Yeah.” Dash gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, eventually embracing her with her wings and wrapping them over her shoulders. “I know you can’t be happy stuck with me all the time.”

Pinkie half snorted, her eyes burning.

“It’ll be a chance for some-some breathing room for the two of us, you know?”

“Sure,” Rainbow Dash’s muffled words were almost lost in Pinkie Pie’s mane as she pulled her closer. “It’ll… it’ll be a chance for you to spread your wings some more.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Pinkie let out a quiet, miserable giggle as she gently touched one of Dash’s wingtips. “Maybe this is what I need. Maybe it’ll –hic! – be a chance for me to be a more, y’know… complete mare.”

“Since you think I can’t make y’feel like a real mare,” Dash answered quietly.

“No. No, no, no. No, no…” she frowned, turning slowly with her. “… I mean, maybe.”

“Which means yes,” Rainbow Dash slurred bleakly.

“Why is it ‘no’ always means ‘yes’ with you?” Pinkie Pie hiccupped, now clinging more to Rainbow Dash than dancing.

“I know. You hate it.”

“I don’t hate anything about you, Dashie,” she forced herself to look up, her chest feeling weirdly empty. “I could never hate you, no matter what.”

“I know,” Dash answered, although her tone belied that she was not convinced.

“… I know that I love you,” Pinkie Pie sniffled, desperately trying to continue swaying along to the dwindling tune. “I know you love me, too.”

“I know that this – I just can’t, Pinkie,” Dash’s voice at last began to crack as well. “I know I hurt you, and I just can’t keep doing it…!”

“Don’t you get it?” Pinkie shook her shoulders lightly. “We’ve been over this – I don’t care if you hurt me or not!”

“I do,” Rainbow Dash stated bitterly. “I do, and I can’t –”

“You can!” she begged. “You can, it’ll all be fine! I don’t care if-if you hurt me sometimes, I don’t care about the weird stuff you do to me, I don’t care!”

“That’s not true, Pinkie Pie.” Dash tilted the crying mare’s face up to look at her. “I know you do. You’re one of the nicest, most caring ponies I’ve ever met. I know you are.”

“There’s plenty about me that you don’t know,” Pinkie Pie’s tears streamed quietly down her face and her shoulders trembled, but her voice was steady. They had long since stopped dancing, and Dash gradually started to pull away from her.

“I know you think that you’re messed up,” she scowled, old scars opening up the more she thought on it. “I also know that you aren’t anywhere close to –”

“Don’t you dare.” Pinkie’s voice became dangerously quiet, and even her shoulders stopped shaking. “Rainbow Dash, don’t you dare talk like that to me.”

Rainbow Dash pursed her lips, her anger fading.

“… I’m sorry,” she tried to let go of Pinkie Pie, but the mare held her firmly in her grasp.

“I know you are,” Pinkie breathed, the resentment in her voice not fading at all.

“I know you want me to be. And Pinks, I know some t-time apart is gonna be what you need.”

“What I need?” the anger rose right back up, her ears flattening against her head. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?!”

“That’s-that’s not what I meant to say,” she cringed, wings clamping tightly to her sides. “You know what I meant.”

“I know you’ve been completely bonkers lately! Maybe what you need is that hospital help after all, huh?”

Pinkie Pie stood standing away from her, her chest rising and falling heavily. She wanted to shout, she wanted to show Rainbow Dash just how angry with her that she really was. But from the wounded expression on her face, Pinkie really couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“I-I’m sorry, Dash-”

“I know you are.” The pegasus’s words were quiet, but cold. “I don’t need help. I know it, and you –you know it.”

“I know you still sneak into his room at night when you think I’m asleep.”

Rainbow Dash froze, her face taking on a pallid, chalky color.

“I already told you,” Pinkie softly touched her shoulder again. “I don’t care. We’re a family, Rainbow Dash. We-we have to stay together – I need us to be together, I need us…!” her voice broke as the tears started stinging her eyes again, but her hoof was briskly brushed away.

“Yeah, well… maybe I don’t.”

William let out a low whistle as he craned his neck, peering straight up into the inky blackness of the tower.

Of all the stairs William had ever seen, that particular tower had to have had more than all of the other stairs combined. It was a dim and shadowy climb, to be sure, but not one that he found particularly foreboding. Thoroughly impressive, but it was not quite sinister. Despite the lack of windows, there was still just barely enough ambient light to begin climbing without feeling that he would lose his footing. He let out a quiet sigh through his nostrils, feeling his way up the darkened steps with caution. The cool touch of the iron guardrail guided his hand, and his bare feet treaded over the equally chilly steps with trepidation. It slowly grew more difficult to see the higher that he climbed, as the steps seemed to have been painted as equally black as the walls.

Warmth unexpectedly met him as he climbed, and as he examined more closely, a dim light appeared to be emanating from somewhere far above. He paused after a while, his muscles already aching from the climb in the wide tower. Making the mistake of resting on the guardrail for a moment, William made an even worse decision and tried to look down.

The ground seemed miles away, and the prospect of falling to his death swiftly loomed in on him. A sharp hiss shot through his teeth as he gripped the guardrail for dear life, an unexpected shot of vertigo slamming him hard. A small whimper escaped his lips as he finally wrenched his gaze away from the yawning abyss below him.

William suddenly found himself much less enthusiastic to continue climbing.

Then again, he wasn’t particularly all that enthusiastic to begin with, but he was certifiably less eager now. With a weary heart, William forcibly kept as close to the wall as humanly possible. It occurred to him that he probably could have asked for someone to show him the way; but the thought of running back to Celestia just because he was afraid of heights made him feel absolutely ridiculous. He simply shook his head and kept up a slow but steady climb, making certain not to look over the ledge or so much as think about it.

He felt as if he had been climbing for hours before he finally reached the top of the stairs, a warm glow emanating from an unseen source. A large pair of thick iron doors stood before him, but swung open soundlessly at his touch. The high roof of the tower expanded out upon reaching the top, the architecture spiraling in fascinating spirals to form the ceiling. Patterns of all sorts, turns and whorls all coming together that seemed as if they had grown like ice over one another held him completely entranced for nearly a full minute before he realized that he had been simply standing in the hall with his mouth hanging open.

To William’s dismay, he saw no sign of Princess Luna. Instead, he found-

“More hallways,” he scowled, automatically trying to jam his hands into pockets that he did not actually have. “Marvelous.”

William frowned, carrying on and peering into one of the doorways. Much to his pleasure, the doorways led not to more hallways as he had expected, but to numerous rooms packed full with books. Books on black wooden shelves that rose all the way up to the high ceiling, books of every size and shape and color that drew his eyes like a moth to flame. He found his mouth hanging open once again as he discovered that not one, but all of the rooms were seemingly packed to the ceiling with books of all sorts. He wandered in to one, appreciatively taking in the fact that all were seemingly very well cared for.

He let his finger trail over the spiny back of a large red book on a shelf near him, mystified by the gilded letters carved perfectly into the side.

William jerked his hand back rather abruptly, however, when the spiny backed book shuddered at his touch.

“Rather late, aren’t we?”

Princess Luna’s voice nearly caused William to leap out of his skin, and he whirled on the spot with his heart struggling to punch its way out of his chest. Dark and imposing, the princess of the night seemed to deflect the very light off of herself. She shimmered with the shadows, the perplexing twinkling in her gracefully flowing mane seeming all the more elegant for the lack of light.

“Your princess ma’am highness!” he spluttered, catching his own verbal catastrophe only after he had blubbered it out of his mouth. His face burned, and for some strange reason, his heart only sped up no matter how he tried to force it back down. Princess Luna seemed unamused, but slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Not quite the reception I was expecting, I’ll admit,” the princess of the night nodded with a small smile perched on her lips. “May I ask what kept you?”

“I was naked,” William blurted truthfully, instantly regretting it.

“I… see.”

“That’s not really what it sounds like,” William desperately backtracked. “I mean, I was naked, but not deliberately – I mean, of course it was deliberate, but not because of me, because of my sister. I mean, she’s almost my sister, sort of; or rather, what I mean is that I was only naked because of her – which isn’t what it sounds like either, of course! Not that I was wanting to get naked around my sort-of sister – I mean, we were fooling around in the maze garden oh god that came out wrong!

William was nearly hyperventilating as he clasped his head, vainly attempting to jam the words back into his head.

Princess Luna displayed her saving grace with ease.

“You talk too much,” she said simply, resting one of her extensive wingtips on his small shoulders. “You will follow.”

“Y-yes ma- Princess,” he corrected himself, following closely behind her as she turned away. She trailed slowly away, mane billowing behind her mysteriously without wind. He found himself staring at it for a moment, carefully analyzing how it could have operated – the only way he could picture it was by some magical influence. He furrowed his brows, thinking heavily. Obviously the princess’s chambers were lit with magic as well, as he found no obvious light sources, nor even windows.

Right about then, William realized that he had been staring rather hard at Princess Luna’s curvy backside as she trotted slowly in front of him, and he abashedly turned his attention toward the ceiling.

“Here we are,” Princess Luna led him up yet another flight of steps, which William was all too glad there were only a few of. They led to a large set of double doors, inlaid with so many figures of painstakingly carved silver figures that he didn’t even know where to start. Strange runes that he did not recognize were written in gold around the edges. Ponies of all sorts seemed to come to life and dance across it as the massive doors swung inward silently. The breathtaking sight was cast into shadow as the princess’s magic lit rows of dimly glowing blue torches lining the walls, which William found thoroughly unnecessary as the afternoon light from the open balcony flooded the room with light.

It hadn’t occurred to him until then that she might have been showing off.

“This is amazing, William breathed, craning his neck up at the circular ceiling. A portrait of shimmering, shining stars seemed to have been painted on to crystal clear glass high above, giving the illusion of a brilliantly starry sky even in the middle of the day. Even more books stood in here, stretching all the way up and blending neatly in with the clever deception, almost as if the bookshelves themselves were holding up the entire sky.

“Why, thank you,” Princess Luna smiled kindly. “I rather like that one.”

“Did you do all of this yourself?” he nearly tripped over himself in awe over large colored pillows covering portions of the floor, the perfect illusion of a night sky distracting him. From the mammoth deep blue four poster bed on one side of the circular room opposite of an equally opulent writing desk equipped with more stacked quills than William had even seen on a single bird, William supposed that this must be both her bedroom and personal study.

“Indeed I did,” Luna nodded cheerfully. “Unless you mean the desk. That one was crafted by Zebrican druids. Very nice, from the ambassador herself.”

Princess Luna settled herself peacefully on top of one of the gargantuan blue pillows laid on the floor, snuggling comfortably on it and motioning for William to do the same. He cautiously sat Indian legged on one of the much smaller ones, holding his ankles tightly since his hands had nowhere else to go. Unfortunately, it made keeping the uniform cautiously in place a hazard, but he forced it down.

“Er…” he cleared his throat finally. “This-this is all very nice, Princess, but, um… If I may ask, am I right in assuming that the cleaning duties I was made aware of was a ruse?”

“Not at all,” Luna sniffed. “The royal toiletries appear to be malfunctioning. Get busy.”

William blinked, almost clambering back to his feet before he caught the alicorn giggling good-naturedly.

“That would be a joke,” she beamed. “I must admit, you are far more serious than your sibling.”

“I – sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, a small grin of his own sneaking onto his face against his will.

“Nonsense!” Princess Luna tittered, smiling at him. “Now, I do not believe that we have been properly introduced, Chaos Spawn. You may call me Luna for the time being, young one. Might I ask for your name?”

Although he suspected that she already knew, William followed the conversation pliantly.

“My name is William Klaskovsky, your highness. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” he nodded politely.

“And more courteous than your genealogical other,” Luna’s kind smile grew.

“I take it you’ve already met Eris?” he inquired quietly.

“Of a sort,” her grin grew a little wry. “She was rather insistent upon averring that I should forcefully insert impossibly large objects where Celestia’s sun does not shine.”

“That sounds like her,” William laughed weakly.

“Rather quick to change her tune, though,” she mused, elated to indulge in gossip. “How long did it take?”

“Er… how-how long did what take? Your high- um, Luna?”

The princess blinked, confusion showing.

“Did she admit nothing?” she asked, tilting her head. “What of your games? You, young William, appear to be nothing of what I have heard.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I was informed that you were of the adventurous, gambling sort,” Luna continued. “So much so that your sister besought my assistance. She won your game, I assume? Eris tells me that she has never once won against you,” she chatted, utterly oblivious to the boiling rage that had up until then been steadily building inside William as the truth finally dawned on him.

“That cheating bitch!” William’s words were under his breath, but he still got the feeling that Luna heard him.

“Something the matter?” she inquired, eyes twinkling.

William cleared his throat a little too loudly and shook his head, mind full of visions of awful, surprisingly violent justice.

“Very well then,” Luna pressed on, leaning forward a little. “If I may pry, I find the two of you most curious. Do you mind?”

“Er… no?” he tried not to shrug his shoulders, uncertain of where she was taking her point.

“Do keep in mind, young one,” Luna added with a hint more seriousness. “Should you care to remain silent, I shall not find it offensive. I hold great regards to secrets.”

Thoroughly more nervous, William began fidgeting with his fingers, drumming them over his ankle in trepidation. However, his unease lessened considerably when he saw her wink jovially at him.

“Maybe I’ll share some of mine if you share some of yours. Hmm?”

“If-if that would help.”

“Excellent. How precisely have you been managing to do it?”

“Do… what, exactly? Erhm, Princess?”

Luna blinked, tilting her head a little again. The small black tiara atop her head somehow managed to stay on, baffling William.

“I was under the impression that your magical energies had been suppressed by Celestia,” she explained. “I was rather eager to discover what dreams lie in the minds of the Chaos Spawn – however, I have discovered nothing, and my curiosity has grown immense.”

William nodded in understanding.

“If you want to know the truth…” he started slowly, and he watched in slight amusement as the Princess leaned in closer, hanging on his every word.

“… I have no idea.”

Luna threw back her head and laughed, relaxing a little.

“As I should have expected,” she chortled, shaking her head. “Eris claimed nearly the same.”

“I would have thought that Eris might know,” William nodded carefully. “She’s the one with magical abilities, not me.”

“No?” Luna raised an eyebrow a little, surprised.

“I’m afraid not. I only study it, you see,” he admitted. “Most of the books I’ve read on theoretical unicorn magic has been directly from Miss Twilight’s personal library, which she’s been kind enough to lend to me on occasions.”

“Is that right…” she hummed to herself, gears turning.

A subtle change seemed to come over the princess, and William watched as she chewed her lower lip.

“Would you like to become my student?”

“Sorry, what?”

William clamped his mouth shut too late for his outburst, but Luna smiled at his confusion.

“Celestia’s pupil appears to have done rather well for herself,” Princess Luna clarified. “And, I believe that there is much that I could teach you on the principles of magic. Should you wish it, of course,” she left her statement hanging, and William cringed at his failure to notice that she was patiently awaiting a reply.

“Yes!” he nodded overenthusiastically. “I mean, absolutely, your highness!”

“Marvelous!” she almost radiated – and for a moment, William thought that she really was radiating light, as the glow in her flowing mane seemed to become a little brighter. Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light, and William was paying too much attention to her details. “I would be glad to teach what I may. In exchange, however…”

A heavy rock settled on the bottom of William’s stomach, and his hopes began to falter.

Luna’s look became a little more serious, and William shifted restlessly. It would seem that there wasn’t a thing in the world that didn’t have a price, and the realization struck William rather hard at that moment. It was almost as if his heart became physically heavier from the comprehension.

“Will you tell me what your dreams are like?”

William’s face flushed deeply, and he forced down the insane urge that had been growing in his fingers to drag up the hem of his uniform. Relief flooded him, and he gripped his ankles tightly, nearly falling off the pillow.

“Is-is that all?” he asked swiftly, ears burning.

“For one year,” Luna instructed, magicking down a sizeable book from one of the many shelves and levitating it in a stunning azure glow before him. He cautiously reached out and grabbed it by the spine, the light weight surprising him. The book itself was blacker than ink, and the hard cover almost seemed to shimmer in his hands. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t actually breathing, instead gawking like a fool at the shiny object.

“What-what is this made of, exactly?” William asked in fascination, carefully cracking open the old book as the scent of well-kept pages met his nose. It stirred something inside of him then, almost like an old memory.

“I don’t think it would be wise to say as of now,” Luna’s smile faded a little, her gaze clouded for a single moment. “Know only that you need not return it to me.”

“I-I can keep this?” he grinned, heart racing.

“Of course. The Book of Dreams is… well,” she smiled mischievously back at him. “Write in it. That should suffice.”

“Thank you very much, Princess,” William bowed his head gratefully, clutching the book tightly.

“You are quite welcome.” She stood slowly, and William imitated her. “Now, the sun sets, and I believe it would be best if you were off to rest.”

He followed Luna distractedly down the wide hall toward the stairs to the tower, mind abuzz.

“William.”

He jumped at his name, Luna’s wingtip gently touching his shoulder.

“I saw the anger in your eyes,” she stated lowly, even though there was no one else around. “It would not be wise to carry that anger to another. Let it go.”

He frowned, clutching the book even more tightly.

“But Eris-”

“May be deserving of that anger,” Luna continued. “But regardless, let it go. There is great worth in forgiveness. Standing up for yourself is one thing, but clinging to grudges and prejudices against another is no way to find happiness, nor to live at all. Take it from somepony that knows better. Do you understand?”

He almost shied away from her oddly piercing gaze and ominous words, but he swallowed and nodded. Luna’s look became tranquil again shortly afterwards, and he managed to ease up.

“Good. Rest well, Chaos Spawn.”

“I prefer William, Princess,” he corrected her civilly, standing up a little straighter. She smiled and shook her head, tittering.

“And I prefer Luna, William. Good morning. Or night, I suppose.”

“Go scrub the toilets, Eris. Go clean the stupid chamber pots, Eris. Go wash the windows, Eris. Go clean out the drains, Eris,” the agitated draconequus mimicked the head maid’s voice in a nasally tone. “Don’t make me punish you, Eris. I don’t get paid enough for this.”

The wet slap of sponge against the windows filled the stone passageway, the afternoon sun glaring in her eyes. She scowled at her murky reflection in the bucket of water, ears pricking at the sound of an approaching pony. The clop of hooves rounding the corner sounded a little too quick to be casual, and just as she had assumed, one of the castle’s many maids came swinging around the empty corner. The easily recognized light pink filly gave her a large smile before trotting straight up to her, apparently oblivious to Eris’s bad mood.

“Hey! There you are,” the filly brushed a lock of violently red mane from her face, grinning wildly.

“Ugh.” Eris’s reply to Velvet was utterly unenthusiastic, and the wet plop of sponge dropping into the bucket made a sickly echoing noise down the corridor. She snapped her talons in irritation, a habit that she found she had been developing lately. Every time nothing happened, however, Eris remained just as aggravated.

Snap.

“What’cha been up to?” she chatted breathlessly, leaning against the wall and watching the slouching draconequus.

“The old bat put me on windows again,” Eris rolled her eyes, taking a break to sidle up to the wall before sliding down it and settling somewhat comfortably on the pristine floor.

“You probably shouldn’t have told her that you hated it,” she settled next to her amicably, smirking tiredly.

“Yeah, prolly not,” Eris admitted, inspecting the underside of her paw. “It’s probably, like, psychological warfare. Give the most degrading jobs possible t’keep the lower tier in place, know what I’m sayin’?” she finished in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.

Velvet snorted and nodded.

“To be honest with ya, I wouldn’t be all that surprised. Oh, hey!” she turned her head sharply, standing and stretching even though it had only just sat down. “Have you seen Cotton Candy anywhere?”

Eris blinked in confusion, and scratched behind her ears.

“Well, see, normally,” she glowered at her talons in frustration. “I would have had a prop gag ready for that, but- ah, never mind. Who’s Cotton Candy?”

“Real tall,” Velvet explained, motioning to show her. “For a filly, I mean. Real scrawny gal, got a blue streak in her mane that looks like it was dyed in? Long neck, squinty eyes? Can’t miss ‘er…”

“Sorry,” Eris shrugged and snapped her talons a little more quickly, and Velvet’s brows furrowed a little. “Haven’t seen anybody like that. Did you ask the old bat?”

Snap snap snap.

“That’s just it, actually…” she frowned, stealing a peek over her shoulder to ensure that they really were alone. “See, I know Boss Mare saw Cotton Candy not too long ago, but when I asked her, she said she hadn’t seen her either.”

“… Huh,” Eris scratched her chin in mild interest. “That is kinda weird. Maybe she’s just off somewhere?”

“Nopony else has seen her, either!” Velvet’s eyes showed a hint of worry, although she seemed to have it fairly under control. “The same thing happened before, I think…”

“So, maybe she went home to her family?” she suggested helpfully. To Eris’s surprise, however, Velvet violently shook her head.

“Cotton doesn’t have a family,” the filly shifted uneasily. “She’s an orphan, like me.”

Eris started to tell her that her fears were probably unfounded, but her last words rang in her ears. She hummed, rubbing her chin in thought. From some of the other maids that Eris had talked with, it would seem that the parentless, homeless, or just outright unfortunate seemed to coagulate at the castle as maids. Although for what reason, Eris wasn’t sure.

“Okay,” she snapped her talons again before she crossed her arms. “Now I am kind of suspicious. Wanna go do some snoopin’?” Eris grinned hopefully, but Velvet shook her head again.

“Maybe later. I’m gonna go check something first, and then I’ll check with ya again sometime. ‘Kay?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eris watched the filly dart away, and finally stood with a grunt. “No need to be specific, or anything! Yeah, I’m totally fine with ambiguity, don’t bother asking, or anything!”

But Velvet either did not hear her or chose to ignore her, and either way, it irritated Eris.

… Snap.

Journal of William Zachariah Klaskovsky

Once again, I find myself utterly exasperated at my situation.

A gargantuan sigh could, I suppose, sum up my thoughts on my current predicament, but the resulting wind force would likely knock this entire palace off of the cliff it rests on. And on that note, I really should inquire as to how a structure like this has managed to continue standing on such a precarious perch, and would were I not apprehensive that the answer would likely be magic.

Magic is something that I hold in equal parts great suspicion and curiosity. Whereas the basic magical implementations and supernaturally activated devices that Miss Sparkle has shown me appear to operate under fairly simplistic processes, the theoretical magic that I wish to study is far more vague and difficult to comprehend. Which, I suppose, could be one of the reasons that she has thus far refused to allow me any of those books on my weekend visits to the library. Whereas I am thoroughly disappointed that I cannot return until this wretched slave trade ends debt has been paid, I do wonder if I could convince Princess Luna to allow me access to her rather impressive personal library.

I must have been drooling all over those poor books. Never have I seen such an impressive collection, a veritable treasure trove just barely out of my reach.

Be still, my beating heart.

This day in particular has been utterly filled with what I could only hope to refer to as mixed signals. Missus Trimming… I shall get back to that. I have no idea whether she wants to break my legs or mount me, and I’m not all too certain which one would be less unpleasant.

But at the very least, she apparently doesn’t want to disembowel me. So that’s a plus.

Still no letters back from home, or from Scootaloo. I will probably have to send more, I’m beginning to worry about Mother… but perhaps that is only out of habit. I wonder if Eris has anyone to write to. I would really rather avoid even thinking about her, which is difficult, as she snores very loudly. Never have I met anyone who could get under my skin so effortlessly. She will be the death of me, I’m certain. Should this journal provide also as my last will and testament, I don’t care who gets my books, just so long as they are kept far, far away from Eris. She would probably light them on fire or something. The idiot.

For now, however, I must sleep and discover just how this new book that Princess Luna gave me works. I believe that it may be magical in nature, but I’m not certain. As of now I am keeping it beneath my pillow to keep it safe, and/or ascertain whether or not it develops some form of mental link to my dreaming subconscious. Which, now that I read back on it, sounds like something out of a cheesy late night science fiction movie.

I hope Princess Luna isn’t disappointed with anything I dream up. She seems like a very pleasant sort of mare, and I can’t stop thinking about her. She is like the avatar of dark beauty, extravagantly divine and simultaneously unreachable, drawing me closer with each dainty whisper.

I am never touching another one of Mother Pinkie’s tacky romance novels ever again.

Author's Notes:

I've gotten a surprising amount of feedback stating that Eris is just about the worst thing to ever happen, which... eh, I don't know if I agree with that or not yet. The thing is, Eris really wasn't meant to be a particularly mean or nasty character - she's just an overactive teenager with too much on her plate and her favorite toy has just been taken away. She's not evil. She's just bored. And a troublemaker, true, but I also wanted to make Eris closer to Discord without just slapping a female gender on Discord and making it Chaos 2.0. I wanted a completely different character, but I honestly didn't think that she would garner that much ire.
I think the upcoming chapters will change perspectives on her a little.

Although for better or worse is up to you.