They ate all the food that Rainbow had brought, which was not to their fill. Fluttershy helped Twilight eat, something that she had done with animals all her life, but never with another pony. As they sat around the room, their moods improved by the meal, they began discussing Ponyville, and their course of action.

“I think we should repair the town as soon as possible,” Rarity said. “Fluttershy, how soon do you think Twilight can do magic again?”

“Oh, well, maybe tomorrow. But I really don’t think she should cast a spell that powerful again, so early on.”

“Would she be hurt?”

“Oh, well, no, that is, not really. She… she might overexert herself again, but that’s about the worst she can do. I’m just worried.”

“I agree with Rarity,” Rainbow said. “The sooner the better.” She looked over at Zecora, who was busying herself in the kitchen. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to get involved yet. She must have tons of questions for us.”

“Well, we’ll have to see,” Fluttershy said.

“Of course, we won’t pressure her if she doesn’t feel up to it,” Rarity said, and Rainbow nodded.

“Where will we draw the ground thingy?” Pinkie asked, and Rainbow looked at her, surprised at her sudden speaking.

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Rarity said.

“Is the town square big enough?” Fluttershy asked.

“Maybe,” Rainbow said, “but I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to that kind of thing.” She thought. “How big even is it supposed to be?”

“I have no idea,” Fluttershy said, shaking her head.

“What about all the ponies nearby?” Rarity asked. “Princess Celestia said that if anypony steps within the sigil, it will be ruined.”

“We just tell them all that we’re casting a spell, and Twilight needs her space,” Rainbow said.

“Maybe,” Rarity said. “But will that really work? Crowds don’t tend to follow orders too well.”

“They won’t interfere if they’re all distracted by a party,” Pinkie said; Rainbow could tell she wasn’t back to her normal self yet, but she was trying.

“Pinkie, you’re going to be in the center of it anyway,” Fluttershy said.

“Oh, okay.”

Rainbow looked at her, but she didn’t look up from studying the tabletop. “It was a good suggestion, Pinks.”

Pinkie favored her with a little smile.

“Um, I have a question—if you don’t mind me switching topics, that is,” Fluttershy said. “What about injured ponies, or even… dead ones?”

They all thought for a minute.

“Well, the injured ponies shouldn’t really be a problem,” Rainbow said. “You can just heal them, Fluttershy. Or we can help ‘em get to the hospital.”

“If it’s still standing,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, if it’s still standing. Thanks for that, Rarity.”

“We have to be realistic, Rainbow Dash.”

“That’s why I said we can have Fluttershy here heal ‘em. You can, right, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, of course,” she said.

“Hold on, though,” Rarity said. “Do we want these citizens to know that Fluttershy has magical powers? If they see her casting spells, who knows how they’ll react? For all we know, they could assume she’s an agent of Discord, or Discord himself, in disguise.”

Fluttershy looked at her, afraid. “I don’t want ponies to think I’m Discord,” she said quietly.

“Do they even know he’s involved?” Rainbow asked.

“I don’t see how they can’t,” Rarity said. “They’ve all seen him before, and who else in the world would do something like this?”

“Who else in the world could do something like this?”

They all flicked their eyes at Pinkie, and then Fluttershy looked back at Twilight, who was sitting up on her cot and facing them. Her face was still blank, but she no longer looked to be in pain.

“We shouldn’t complicate this any more than it is,” Rainbow said, tapping her hoof on the table. “Let’s do what we can to help, but without magic.”

“And what about the… dead?” Rarity asked, and Fluttershy winced.

“What about them? We can’t do anything for them.” She looked warily at Pinkie. “At least, I don’t think we can. Pinkie, can you resurrect a pony?”

“I doubt it,” she said, not looking up.

“That’s necromancy, Dash. We shouldn’t mess with it,” Rarity said.

“Isn’t it illegal?” Fluttershy asked.

“Highly.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fine. So we’ll just let everypony else figure out their, uh, dead situation,” Rainbow said. She didn’t like how callous it made her sound.

“How long do we plan on staying here?” Rarity asked.

“We can’t stay forever,” Rainbow said, “but we can’t really leave immediately either.”

“Dashie’s right,” Pinkie said. “We can’t just leave. It’s like going to a party and then going home before the games can start.”

“We’re just now walking through the door, as it were,” Rarity said, and they all nodded.

“The way I see it,” Rainbow said, “we can put the town back together tomorrow, maybe the day after if Twilight isn’t up to it. After that, we’ll stay a couple days and help ponies rebuild, you know, make sure everything’s under control. Then we leave.”

“That should be three or four days.”

“I think Canterlot should be our next city,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah, me too,” Rainbow said.

“What about after?” Rarity asked.

“Uh… I don’t know.”

“I don’t think we should even worry about it right now,” Fluttershy said, turning in her chair to look out the window. She had been glancing at it for the entirety of the conversation, but only here did she make obvious her discomfort.

“I do hope Applejack returns soon,” Rarity said.

“I was just looking out for that,” Fluttershy said.

“See anything?” Rainbow asked.

Fluttershy shook her head.

“Do you think we should go after her?” Rarity asked.

“We can’t leave Twilight,” Fluttershy said, looking back at the dazed unicorn.

“I meant only one of us.”

Rainbow looked at Twilight. “Twilight? How are you feeling? Can you hear me?”

Twilight nodded, and Rainbow smiled.

“Can you talk?” Fluttershy asked.

“A… little,” Twilight said. “It—it’s… hard,” she said, face scrunched in concentration.

“How do you feel?” Rainbow repeated.

“Woooooooooooooozy,” Twilight said slowly, and smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Can you stand?” Pinkie asked.

Twilight shuffled to the cot’s edge, and Fluttershy went to help her up. With her assistance, Twilight managed to stand upright, though she wavered significantly. Rarity got up quickly and went to the kitchen for a glass of water, which Twilight drank gratefully.

“Better?” Fluttershy asked.

“Clears my head a little,” Twilight said slowly.

“I think we should wait a little more,” Rarity said. “Twilight is still in no condition to go out.”

“Um, I agree,” Fluttershy said.

“If you want to stay with Twilight, I can go find Applejack,” Rainbow said, standing.

“Yes, that sounds fine, Rainbow. But be careful. If anything has happened to Applejack, come get us first.”

“Sure.” Rainbow opened the door. “See you guys in a bit.”

She took off from the doorstep and sped straight up out of the forest, dodging between branches and barreling through smaller twigs, heedless of the scratches she would get. Her eyes had been drooping at the table, but outside, and away from the oppressive forest interior, she was reinvigorated. Fresh, cold air on her fur and skin had always been her preferred way to wake her up, and now, rising high over the Everfree, she took a moment to look at the forest with curious, wakeful eyes. Unlike Ponyville and Canterlot, the forest looked largely the same, save for the segmentation. She was sure a lot of the trees had fallen, but could see nothing from her position. All the destruction was hidden under the dark green canopy, which, at a distance, seemed to hide even the fragmentation.

Her flight path curved out over the quarter mile crescent of land between the forest and the nearest split, on which sat Fluttershy’s ruined cottage—the only sign of civilization nearby.

Grimly curious, she landed next to it and looked around. The walls had crumbled, and the wooden beams, having nothing to hold them upright, had fallen where they stood, making a crisscross of thick timber. The roof, shattered, had lost some of its thatching and greenery, and pieces of it covered the site like shells. Glittering triangles of glass littered the ground like stars.

She thought of all Fluttershy’s animals, and stopped her advance; she didn’t want to get closer to the cottage, lest she accidentally discover any of their small corpses. “Unless they’re still alive, and need help,” she thought guiltily. “No, there’s no way. If they’re still there, they got crushed.” She walked away reluctantly, the sun at her back, and only took to the air when she felt a sufficiently respectful distance was between her and the cottage.

She glided over the gap and looked down at the brown earth far below. Already, the sight was losing novelty for her. The implications, while devastating, were also invisible to her. It was the earthquake that truly mattered, to her mind, and with Ponyville and Canterlot and all the other cities in Equestria so utterly destroyed as they were, an extra mile between them and the Gaia seemed merely a change in scenery.

The sun was approaching five o’ clock, and the light was deepening. As she crossed over to the farm side, she angled upwards quickly, moving her eyes across the sky for her cloud house. It floated just outside the Ponyville border, beyond the farm, a small, white pellet. It looked undamaged, and she smiled lightly to herself. The enchanted clouds of a cloudhome could not be broken in the same way as the ground; the material stuck together, and could not be broken by energetic vibrating alone.

She flew lower, watching her shadow skim across the crops, first a swath of grain, then carrots, and then to the expansive grove of apple trees. She flew between them, nearly brushing their tops, appreciative for the shade they provided. These, vastly different from the dour, drooping, vine-skirted trees of the Everfree, afforded cover through their friendly, odoriferous boughs. She had flown under the trees countless times before, snatching an apple or two as she did so; she didn’t now. Doing so felt weirdly disrespectful.

Following a path between the trees that she knew would take her to the barn, she set her ears open for any sign of Applejack. She didn’t expect anything to be the matter, but Fluttershy’s concerns, as well as the general anxiety that had been stacking onto them all since last night, put her in a pessimistic mind. The trees thinned out, and she spotted Applejack standing near the edge of the ground, around whom crowded the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

Applejack turned as she came up behind them, and the three fillies after her; their faces all lit up, Scootaloo’s most of all.

“Rainbow Dash! Guys, it’s Rainbow Dash! She’s come to help us!” Scootaloo cried. They cheered, and Rainbow laughed. It was good to receive cheers simply for showing up.

“What are you doin’ here, Rainbow?” Applejack asked.

“I just came to check up on you.”

“Did Fluttershy send ya?”

“What? No. Well, kinda.”

Applejack smiled. “Ah appreciate it, but everythin’ here is fine. Well, not not exactly fine, but… it’s okay.”

Rainbow looked past her at the destroyed barn, its rear half standing awkwardly against a wave of splintered debris on the other side of the gorge.

“How did it get broken like that?” she asked. “Shouldn’t it have just all fallen off?”

“Heck if Ah know. Musta been a fault in the foundation or somethin’. Ah’m just glad everypony was able to escape before it broke.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Rainbow asked.

“That’s the problem. Big Mac an’ Granny Smith are on the other side, and Ah’ve been tryin’ to think of a way Ah can get these youngins over to ‘em.”

“Are they okay?”

“Granny’s a bit worked up, but Big Mac’s takin’ care of her.”

“Applejack says we have to be on the other side ‘cause we can’t fend fer ourselves, even though Ah’ve been working on the farm my whole life,” Apple Bloom cut in indignantly.

“Ah done told y’all it’s fer yer own safety,” Applejack said firmly. She turned back to Rainbow, and her hardness was instantly gone. “There don’t seem to be a way across this gap, though.”

“I can fly ‘em over if you want,” Rainbow said.

Applejack thought for a moment. “Yeah, okay. You girls okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? A chance to fly with Rainbow Dash? Who wouldn’t want that?” Scootaloo shouted, and they all cheered again.

Rainbow laughed good-naturedly. “All right, all right, settle down. Who gets to go first?”

“Me! Me!” Scootaloo cried, hopping expectantly. “Applejack said I can’t fly across, but I know I can! Watch!”

“Scootaloo, no!” Applejack said, but the tiny pegasus was already running recklessly at the edge, her stumps of wings flicking impotently. Rainbow followed her off the edge, ready to catch her.

Scootaloo plunged off the edge and flapped her wings with all the effort her tiny body could muster, but she only gained a few feet before dropping. Rainbow quickly flew underneath her to catch her on her back, cutting off her scream, and then let them glide a moment before taking her back up to the other side of the halved farm.

She had to wait a couple minutes for Scootaloo to calm down, and when she had, she flew the short distance back over and picked up Sweetie Belle, then Apple Bloom, both of whom went over without incident. Big Mac and Granny Smith were right there, and after a little reunion, and assurances that she and Applejack were okay, Rainbow flew back over to the other side.

“Ah told her she couldn’t make the trip across,” Applejack said. “Ah’m just glad she decided to try when you were around. Thank you fer catchin’ her, RD.”

“Don’t mention it. Is there anything else you need to do over here?”

“Ah don’t rightly know. Ah’d like to do somethin’ to help the farm, but Ah can’t even get over to my family, least not without Twilight and Pinkie here. How is she, by the way?”

“Fluttershy managed to cure her in time,” Rainbow said, and Applejack sighed with relief.

“That’s great news. Ah felt awful leavin’ her like she was.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“Ah was worried sick on my way over here.”

“Well, she’s recovering now. She might even be ready to move on when we return.”

“Good. An’ how is everypony else?” They began walking back toward the apple trees, from where Rainbow had come.

“They’re all fine. Pinkie’s a little shook up, but she’ll bounce back.”

“What happened to her?”

“Things didn’t go so great on the rock farm,” Rainbow said cagily, and Applejack looked at her expectantly. “Sorry, AJ. Pinkie’s pretty upset; I don’t know if she’d be okay with me telling you about it.”

“That ain’t like her at all.”

“I know. She’s all quiet. It’s weird.”

The apple orchard became the wheat field, and the sun was lower, spreading their lonesome shadows on a sea of gold. Not a sound could be heard but their steps, and the gentle sway of the wheat. Applejack yawned, and Rainbow soon did too. In the quiet sunset, fatigue was slowly mastering her.

“How did you cross the gap?” Rainbow asked.

“You mean the one outside the forest? There’s a spot over in the distance where it’s narrow enough fer a pony to jump.”

Rainbow looked and saw the piece of land she meant. Where the ground had split along the rim of a small rise in the ground, there was only five or so feet between sides, and one side elevated enough for a bold pony to hop across the emptiness—but only from the one direction.

“I can carry you back across.”

“Would ya mind? Ah didn’t exactly have a return route planned.”

They walked until they reached the edge, and Rainbow silently took Applejack across the gap. As she approached the forest’s edge, Applejack deviated toward Fluttershy’s cottage. Rainbow came up behind her.

“It’s all gone,” Applejack said quietly.

“Fluttershy’s going to be crushed.”

“At least none of her critters died.”

“How can you tell?”

“The smell. Er, the lack of it this time. No rottin’ flesh.”

“Oh.” Rainbow was a little unsettled that Applejack should say it so candidly. “It makes sense. She’s probably had to deal with dead animals on the farm before. Gross.”

Applejack took a minute more to examine the wreckage, turning over pieces of drywall and thatching, finding nothing. When they turned back to the forest, they did so with solemnity, entering the trees’ shadows with bowed heads.

Zecora’s hut was not too far in, and when they walked through the doors, the first thing Rainbow noticed was that Twilight was up, walking around, and talking with the others.

The reception of both parties was a flurry of exultation: for Applejack and Rainbow, the swelling happiness that Twilight was finally better; and for the others, relief that Applejack’s family, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders, though dislocated and upset by the destroyed farm, were unharmed. Zecora watched from her kitchen, smiling patiently out at them.

When everyone had calmed, Twilight sat down; she was still not at her best. “We were just discussing what we should do next. We all want to go home, but I think we need to stay together.”

“I don’t see why,” Rainbow said, and thought. Spending the night alone, with nothing but her bed and the empty darkness to comfort her fraught nerves—it sounded horrible. “Never mind.”

“You said the boutique is still okay, did you not?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, and the library too.”

“Either of those, then,” Applejack said.

“I suggest the library,” Rarity said. “There’s nothing at the boutique that can’t wait until tomorrow, and Spike will be happy to see us safe.”

“We should go to each of our places before stopping, just to be sure,” Twilight said.

“What about food?” Rainbow asked.

“Did the apple trees survive, Applejack?” Fluttershy asked.

“Sure, they’re fine. An’ while we stock up, you can, er… well, assess the damage,” Applejack finished quietly.

They were silent for a second out of respect for Fluttershy, who, no longer occupied with Twilight’s remedy, could remember her own misfortune. She looked down at the table and shrunk into herself. Pinkie rubbed her back.

“And we can go to the boutique after that,” Twilight said hesitantly. “And then Sugarcube Corner, and then stop at the library.”

“What about Cloudsdale?” Pinkie asked.

Rainbow shrugged. “It looked fine from a distance. So did my house.”

“Do you want to visit, and make sure it’s okay?” Twilight asked.

“Maybe tomorrow.” She didn’t want to admit it, but her energy was practically gone. The prospect of flying to Cloudsdale, or even her house, seemed unimportant compared to that of sleeping.

“Well, all right.”

“Are you feeling up to going, Twilight?” Rarity asked.

“I think so.” She paced the floor experimentally, and then walked toward the door. “But let’s not go too fast.”

“Of course.”

“Hang on,” Pinkie said. She walked to the kitchen, where she remained for several minutes, thanking Zecora for her hospitality. She bade her goodbye, and they left, Rarity leading them out of the darkening forest and Fluttershy walking at Twilight’s side. The remaining bottles of phlogiston floated around Pinkie’s head in a small swarm as she trotted along. No one stopped her, and when they reached the airship, she went aboard, putting the jars in place.

They looked down the forest’s edge at the cottage.

“Sh-shall we?” Fluttershy asked.

They all began walking, Fluttershy at the back of the group, trembling. They had all seen the cottage, at least in passing, except Twilight; she wasn’t prepared for the dome of rubble. It was still clearly a house, but it had been flattened, most of its shape conserved by the roof that covered most of the ruin. Splintered beams and boards poked out of holes in the thatching, and under the roof’s edge like tassels on a skirt, jutting into messes of scattered furniture and broken wall.

Fluttershy came up from behind and approached her house, and everyone backed up. The tiny bridge over the tiny stream just outside had been spared, as well as the spindly tree at its side. A birdhouse had fallen off, and the nests were disturbed, but it was nothing compared to the destruction just before her. She stopped at the edge of the ruin and picked through the rubble, overturning sections of drywall uselessly. There was little to see, nothing that she could salvage; she wasn’t even entirely sure why she was there at all. She could tell already that none of her animal friends had been caught in the collapse. The foliage that covered her roof was now sprawled out over the wreckage, all shaken leaves and broken, twisted vines. To the side, a thick post with another birdhouse still stood, a lone survivor. It tilted only but a little, the grass at its base furrowed up slightly in a small wave on one side.

Her back to her friends, Fluttershy slowly walked onto a flat piece of wood and up onto the pile. Dazed, she stopped at a curve in the construction—what had once been the outer wall of her bedroom, she speculated—and tried to move a beam. It hardly budged. She pawed through the leaves to the base of thatching and stirred up a little dust, then, sighing, fluttered over to the other side. She examined the wreck for a few more minutes.

She had been dreading the examination since Applejack had delivered the news to her that her house had not survived, and now, standing outside it, she could only look with dry eyes and a thick, thought-starved mind. She didn’t know what to do. Her animals, though gone, had survived, at least from the collapse. There was nothing inside that couldn’t be replaced or simply forgotten, and she knew she would not need to live there for a long time anyway. She wanted to cry—knew that her friends expected it—but produced no tears, and as she turned back to the group, watching solemnly, she wondered to herself. “Is it even that big a deal?”

“Fluttershy? Are you okay, darling?” Rarity asked.

Fluttershy produced a curious, high-pitched groan. Rarity’s concern lanced into her heart to coax a response from her that her own misfortune could not, and she wiped her eyes. “I guess so. It’s just my house that’s destroyed, and no… animals.”

“All your animals survived?” Twilight asked.

“I think so. I didn’t see any… oh, I’m sorry.” She turned and hid her face behind her mane. Her head shook a little, and a couple small, wet dots landed on the ground beneath her. “They think I’m sad about the house.”

“There there, darlin’,” Applejack said, rubbing her back. “By the time we’re done here, we’ll have yer cottage all fixed up again.”

Fluttershy nodded, and when she had cleared her face, she looked at them all. “Let’s move on.”

They hesitantly turned back to the airship, and Fluttershy, searching for an excuse to avoid their sad eyes, took the lead. They boarded, and she went to the back, Twilight and Rarity following. They had only a small distance to cover, but waiting for the balloon to fill enough to carry them over the gap added ten minutes to the whole affair, which Fluttershy spent trying to assure her friends that she was okay. The house was not the problem; that was just a collection of objects, furniture and supplies that could be recovered. Her problem was the same one that she had always had: the inexpressible feeling of unworthiness and inefficacy that, contrasted to her friends’ selflessness, made her feel low and unhappy.

They landed beside the barn, where Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were pulling pieces of wreckage away. They stopped their labor and approached the ship, and Applejack bolted down the gangplank to them, shortly followed by Rarity, who grabbed Sweetie Belle in an embrace. The entire crowd burst into cheers, questions, and happy tears, it was several minutes before the group had quieted down. They began to explain, and Twilight led the others down and around the ship’s side toward a small grove of apples. The majority of the farm was on the other side of the split, but a small hook of apple trees swung in on their side, and they were able to harvest enough to satisfy their hunger.

They returned to the barn in time to hear Applejack’s conclusion, stating their task. Their audience listened quietly and with wide eyes as she explained to them that they might not be back for a long time. This was unlike the other adventures they had had, she said. Those were all small affairs, taking only a few days, most of which was travel. This would not be so short.

By the time they were done, and goodbyes were said, with promises to see them more before leaving, the day was dying, throwing the airship’s shadow in a long, unnatural stain across the grassy ground, otherwise bare.

“It’s so weird to see this thing here,” Twilight thought as they boarded. “Just out in the middle of the fields like this. And to think that it’s ours.” She pulled the ramp up while Pinkie started the torch.

Fluttershy took her place near the ship’s midpoint, leaning on a rail and looking toward Ponyville. Twilight walked back to her and leaned by her side, saying nothing, but knowing her mere presence was enough to express her sympathy for the pegasus’ loss.

“I hope the rest of Ponyville isn’t like this,” Fluttershy said. “I hope my cottage is the only one that got destroyed.”

Twilight nodded silently. She hoped the same.

“I don’t mind that I lost everything. I really don’t. But thinking about everypony else…” Her eyes glistened, and she lowered her head again, blinking. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I should be more optimistic, like Pinkie says. At least all my animal friends escaped into the forest.”

They slowly floated off the ground. “Fluttershy, you have every right to be upset,” Twilight said. “But Applejack is right. When tomorrow is over, we’ll have fixed this part of the world, hopefully. Then we can help rebuild your house.”

“Oh, um, okay.” She sounded hesitant.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Come on, Fluttershy, you can tell me.”

“Oh, no, really, it’s nothing. It’s a very nice idea.”

“Come on, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy looked down and appeared to steady herself. “It’s just, I don’t think it’s very important to rebuild my house.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we’re not going to be coming back in a really long time, so why should we even bother? Maybe, if we return, we can, but until then, we might as well not waste our time.”

“First of all, Fluttershy, it’s when we return, not if. And it’s not a waste; if we rebuild it now, then it can be ready for you again when we do get back.”

“But what about the other ponies? The ones who don’t have to leave? They’re in much worse shape than me.”

“Uh, pardon me fer eaves-droppin’,” Applejack said, turning the wheel and ship to the east, where the boutique sat like a jewel in the distance. “But why do we need to rebuild anyone’s house? Last Ah checked, none of us know anythin’ ‘bout construction.”

“Hey, I built my own house,” Rainbow interjected, flying over to them lazily.

“Yeah, out of clouds. That’s different from wood and stone, Rainbow.”

“You would know.”

“Uh, yeah, Ah would. Oh, Pinkie, you wanna cut the engine an’ torch? We’re almost there.”

“Okey-dokey-lokey!” Pinkie said happily, running over to the hatch and cutting the power.

“She seems happier,” Fluttershy said.

“It’s ‘bout time,” Applejack said quietly.

Pinkie sprang out and turned off the torch, and Twilight looked around the deck; Rainbow gave voice to the first thing she noticed.

“Pinkie, what did you do with the phlogiston?”

“I threw it over the edge.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry; I made sure it went through the cracks.”

“But we went to so much work to get it,” Rainbow whined.

“Sorry, Dashie.”

Rainbow sighed violently and muttered to herself.

They passed the tilting top of the town hall and crossed another gap, lowering slowly onto the empty outer limits of Ponyville, where Carousel Boutique stood.

“Oh my Celestia,” Rarity said, looking at it. At first, she thought her eyes were fooling her; the split had developed just under the boutique’s posterior side, dragging the building out and back to partially hang off the edge. The walls were chipped and swelled dangerously from the weight of the top tower, her attic, sagging down and back into the second floor workshop, its pennant swaying lazily in the emptiness behind. She could see the protruding tooth of concrete foundation several feet off the earthen lip, and exposed plumbing hanging from its underside. The first floor looked mostly whole underneath the mezzanine, compressed into a splintering grin and flanked by the gaily tilting pony statuettes on either side, their supporting poles bent and turned outwards like thorns.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Rarity?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. Land us, Applejack.” Her voice was determined.

They all stepped out onto the yard before the boutique, regarding it warily. From the ground, its sagging was more pronounced; the door was squashed into its frame, admitting a small wedge of light into the interior, and the eaves hung low like heavy brows. A dark crescent of dirt lay before it, where the boutique had been dragged back by the displaced earth.

Rarity stepped forward, and Applejack put a hoof on her flank. “Yer not goin’ in there, are you?”

“I don’t know,” Rarity said quietly. “My whole livelihood is in this boutique.” She studied it more. “But it could fall at any minute.”

“I don’t think you should risk it, Rarity,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, like you said, it could go over any minute,” Rainbow said.

“Unless…” Rarity thought for a moment. “Unless there’s some sort of counterweight.”

“Or we can try to pull it away from the edge,” Rainbow said, taking to the air and holding her hooves up to frame it.

“Heavens, I can’t do that!” Rarity said.

“I meant Pinkie.”

They all looked at her.

“You want me to use my magic?” she asked hesitantly.

“That’s what I just said,” Rainbow said.

“Well, okay then!” The happiness in her voice sounded forced, but Rainbow only crossed her forelegs.

Pinkie faced the building, head down, and fixed it with a stare, silly for its extravagant intensity. No magical aura appeared around it, but her face strained as the boutique shuddered and rasped in its place. A few shingles slid off, and something clattered inside, but it did not move. Pinkie sat back and breathed out heavily, looking at her friends apologetically.

“Can’t do it?” Applejack asked.

Pinkie shook her head.

“You’re probably exhausted,” Twilight said.

“Sorry, everypony.”

“It’s okay, Pinkie. You tried your best,” Rarity said, looking nervously at the building. “I just hope you didn’t loosen it at all.”

“So you are going in?” Rainbow asked.

“I have to, Rainbow. There are designs and fabrics inside that I simply cannot leave to chance.”

“You’re going to need that counterweight, Rarity,” Twilight said.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” She looked around. “I don’t see anything that I can use, though.”

“What about us?” Pinkie asked.

“Uh, how about not?” Rainbow said indignantly. “Sorry, Rarity, but I don’t want to risk my life for some dumb fabrics.”

“They are not dumb, Rainbow Dash. But you’re right; you can’t risk your lives for this.”

“We can just stand in the doorway,” Twilight said.

“No, Twilight, I simply cannot allow it.”

“Quit bein’ so stubborn,” Applejack said. “Yer willin’ to risk yer life like this, but unwillin’ to let us try to help?”

“But what if it… falls of?”

“It’s more likely to fall off if we’re not in it,” Twilight said.

“An’ if it starts tippin’, we can just run out,” Applejack said.

“Well…” Rarity thought, long and hard. “Okay. I’ll allow it, on one condition. One of you has to stay outside to watch, just in case we can’t tell it’s tipping from inside.”

“I volunteer,” Rainbow said immediately.

“That’s fine.”

“Can you see it okay?” Applejack asked.

Rainbow landed again and put her head to the ground, looking along it at the boutique’s base. “Yeah, no problem.”

“So, um, shall we proceed?” Rarity asked.

“I guess,” Twilight said. “Let us go in first, though.”

For a moment, no one moved, and then Twilight took a nervous step toward the tilting door. When they reached it, it was Applejack who managed to wrench it open, the hinges protesting loudly.

The interior was a mess; a mirror lay face-down in a spangled spread of broken glass, reflecting an upended mannequin in a shattered aspect. The floor was dusted with paint flecks and tufts of fiberglass, and a curtain lay coiled near the stairs, a thick tongue of fabric. The back of the boutique was crinkled, a heavy depression near the roof where the workshop floor was sagging into it, crushed down by the attic. The window there was a popped hole in the wall.

Twilight paused just before stepping onto the tile inside. She had carelessly walked through the doors a thousand times, but here, a cold, dead fear gripped her as she tried to push herself through. Her hoof trembled as it hovered off the ground, and her heart pounded.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to step forward, and carefully placed her hoof on the ground; it landed as it always did, and the boutique gave no response. Relieved, she stepped the rest of the way in, and the others followed her, with only Pinkie showing no fear.

“Okay, bunch up near the doorway, but leave enough room for a clean exit,” she said, and they split into two groups around the egress. Rarity came in last, walking between the groups without looking at them; her eyes narrowed in focus as she scanned the building’s interior. She sighed.

“I should have expected this,” she said quietly. She waited near them for a long time, just looking around. To them, it was all mindless wreckage, but to her, every broken pane of glass, every misplaced piece of fabric was a unique and painful representation of what she had lost, and what was at risk.

“If anypony hears Rainbow, or just thinks they hear or feel the building tipping, shout for me immediately, then run,” Rarity said. “Don’t stick around to see if you’re right or not. Just get out.” She sighed again. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

She slowly walked to the other side of the room, to the stairs. She couldn’t tell where precisely the split began, and stopped at the foot of the stairs, waiting with ears up for any sound of the boutique shifting.

“You can do it, Rarity!” Pinkie cheered, and Twilight smiled in encouragement, having nothing to say.

Rarity smiled back and grabbed some dresses off a nearby rack, levitating them into a neat bundle. She walked them out the door and up onto the airship; the shop was still.

She came back in and, again hesitatingly, went to the stairs. She took a second to regain her courage, and walked up to the second floor, putting her hooves down lightly at each step. Twilight could hear her faint hoofsteps above them, and soon, Rarity was making her way back down the stairs, a pair of sewing machines floating before her. She loaded them onto the airship, and came back.

“How’s it going, Rarity?” Twilight asked.

“So far so good,” she sighed, and crossed to the stairs; the shop groaned, and she froze. It was a long, wooden, creaking sound, like a nail being pried out of a board. It was accompanied by nothing else.

“Rainbow? How’s it looking out there?” Twilight called, not bothering to keep the dread out of her voice.

“You’re fine,” Rainbow said. “No leaning at all.”

Twilight nodded to Rarity, who nodded back before disappearing up the stairs again. She reappeared with a stack of fabrics, folded nicely.

“Ah don’t mean to nag at you, Rarity, but how much more do you have to get?” Applejack questioned.

“Not too much more, Applejack,” Rarity said. “Just some more fabrics, anything of Sweetie Belle’s that I can find, my mannequins, and, of course, Opalescence.”

“Well, would you mind goin’ a bit faster? Ah’m feelin’ worse an’ worse ‘bout this place.”

Rarity went out to the ship and returned; as her fetlocks vanished up the stairs, the boutique groaned again, longer. Twilight didn’t feel the shop shifting beneath her, and held her ground.

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” Rainbow said.

Rarity came down with two stacks of fabric and a few sundries, which Twilight assumed to be Sweetie Belle’s. Her eyes were frowning in concentration, and her jaw was set. When she came back inside, she uttered a single phrase: “not long now.” Twilight wasn’t used to such brevity in Rarity’s words, and she didn’t like it. It made her sound more grim, more businesslike and cold.

She went up the stairs with hardly a pause, and Twilight thought she heard a small snap somewhere in the building. There were no groans or creaks, and Twilight listened to Rarity pit-patting on the floor above, trying to track her movements. She circled around, then stopped by the front window. Before Twilight could wonder why, a surprised, unhappy meow sounded through the building, and Rarity quickly walked back down the stairs with a struggling Opalescence in her magical grasp.

“Now now, Opal-Wopal, don’t worry. You’ll be all cozy and snuggly in just a little bit,” she cooed at the angry cat. Opalescence flailed at her impotently, and Rarity simply chuckled. “Now you stay here and don’t go running off,” she said from outside.

She came back in and went for the stairs, not stopping at the invisible partition between ground and abyss. As she moved about over their heads, there was another groan, this time louder, and accompanied by a splintery crack.

“Rarity, get out!” Twilight shouted, turning to the door and bolting out herself, the others following frantically. She heard Rarity’s hoofsteps quicken and head for the stairs just before she was outside.

“Is it really goin’, Rainbow?” Applejack asked, panic in her eyes and voice.

“I think so,” Rainbow said, and there was a crash near the back and the sound of tinkling glass. A cloud of dust drifted up from behind.

“Rarity, it’s going! Get out of there now!” Rainbow shouted into the boutique, and Rarity ran frantically down the stairs, carrying one of her mannequins. Behind her, the back wall leaned out perilously, and as she crossed the floor, the boutique gave another shudder.

A rough hole appeared suddenly in the back wall, and there was a horrible, wooden creak of stressed beams as the hole widened, then collapsed from the top as a large piece of thick scaffolding crashed through. Rarity scrambled across the floor, and Twilight backed even farther from the door.

As she ran for the exit, two things happened in quick succession. First, the mannequin, unwieldily tumbling in her telekinetic haze, caught its oblong base on the door-frame; second, it bounced back lightly, and Rarity, who was already close, smacked head-first into its corner. She pitched back with a look of sheer surprise on her face, and for one spiraling, terrifying moment, it looked to Twilight that the shop was falling away.

“Rarity!” she shouted, running in and shoving the mannequin aside; it was heavier than it looked, and hurt her shoulder to tackle it so. Inside, she could see the beginnings of an incline. The floor tilted up a mere few degrees, but to Twilight, extending a hoof to help Rarity up, it was the maddening lean of impending destruction. A spool of thread bounced off its table to roll down and into the small lip of splintered wall, against which larger pieces had already collected. Everything around her was creaking, like the hold of a massive ship, and there was another groan, metallic, and the rough sound of displaced earth. The others were screaming at them to get out.

Twilight activated her horn to try to help Rarity up, but as she did, a flash of pain exploded through her head, blotting her vision, and she reeled back and down. She saw the ceiling tilt above her, and felt the floor tilting below her, a nightmare carnival ride. The boutique groaned again, and Pinkie let out a blood-chilling scream, behind which Twilight could hear the grumble of sliding rocks and dirt. Mannequins and sewing machines crashed and slid across the floor, and one of Rarity’s mirrors followed, cracking its face on the ground and speeding like a missile into the hole. Rarity, meanwhile, had gained her hooves, and ran blindly for the exit.

“Twilight!” Rainbow’s voice, but strained, desperate. She felt two hooves slip under her own front legs and tug her back; she watched as the boutique’s back wall flattened out before her, more stuff accumulating in its end. She was pulled unceremoniously out of the doorway, flew through the air wildly, and dropped onto the ground, dizzy from the sudden shifts in perspective.

“Are you okay?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight only nodded, enraptured by what she saw. The boutique’s front edge was only four or so feet off the ground; it had seemed so much more inside. It tilted and tilted, faster and faster, like a pony rearing up on its back legs. More crashes, more cracks, more shattering glass, and more tearing fabric all sounded within, the whole cacophony every now and again punctuated with a creaking, snapping sound as a part of the support was pulled loose. The top of the tower went first, an arrowhead tumbling in the evening light, catching momentarily on the back wall and chipping a splatter of shingles off like flecks of stone. The rest of the boutique tipped, tipped, slid, and was gone, one moment on the cliff’s edge, caught in the dying sunlight like a ballet dancer at the end of her performance, and the next simply… gone. It fell with one last, regretful growl as it tore the topsoil off with it.

They could only stand, dumbstruck, and it was only when Rarity’s ear-wrenching shriek shook them from their stupor that they looked around at each other, taking stock of the situation. Everypony was fine, save Twilight, who felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, and Rarity, who ran to the edge in a panic. For a second, Twilight thought that she would cast herself off, but she stopped a few inches short and looked down after her falling home. It had become a whirling, clunky speck, tumbling through the air until it was beyond her range of vision.

It disappeared under the scudding clouds, and Rarity listened vainly for the crash. She heard nothing, and when she backed away from the edge, she saw Twilight and Rainbow in her peripheries.

“Rarity, I… I don’t know what to say,” Twilight said.

“You don’t have to say anything, Twilight,” Rarity said as she walked past them.

Twilight heard the anger in her voice, and hoped that she would leave it at that. For a moment, she did.

“How could you say anything? How could you possibly? You didn’t just lose your house, your store, your… everything!” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “No, Twilight, you’re fine, completely fine. You have the library, and it’s quite securely attached to the ground.”

“Rarity, I—”

“I just lost everything!” Her voice was ragged with rage, and everyone backed up. “Everything I’ve ever worked for, gone! All those nights I spent working instead of sleeping, gone! All my efforts to make everything just so, gone! My life, my dresses, my designs: all gone!” She gestured wildly at the ship. “All I have left is a bunch of stupid fabric and a cat.”

“I’m really, really sorry, Rarity, but you don’t have to yell at me for it,” Twilight said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling, but sometimes it just gets hard, you know? Being this generous all the time and never getting anything in return!”

“You get plenty of stuff, though,” Rainbow cut in.

“Shut up Rainbow! You inconsiderate…” There was a moment when she searched for the right word, the word to cut Rainbow just so. “Brute!”

“Rarity, come on,” Pinkie said, uttering a nervous laugh. “Remember what my granny Pie always used to say. When you’re—”

“Don’t you dare try to cheer me up now, Pinkie! Especially you! This is all your fault anyway!”

“Hey, it is not!” Rainbow shouted.

“Yeah, it’s not my fault Twilight gave me too much power,” Pinkie said.

“Pinkie! I didn’t give you too much power, you just didn’t know how to control it! And this is nopony’s fault. This is just a… huge, unpleasant situation.”

“Like you would know anything about unpleasant situations!” Rarity barked.

“Rarity, please!”

Rarity stopped for a second, and her tone softened. “You know, Twilight, you’re right. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.”

“Thank you.”

“This whole thing is Pinkie’s doing, not yours.” She turned and walked up onto the airship, and they stayed where they were, too shocked to do anything. “Are you coming or not?” she called impatiently.

They walked up the ramp meekly, Rainbow giving Rarity a venomous glare.

“This is not Pinkie’s fault, Rarity,” Applejack said. “If there’s anypony to blame here, it’s you fer makin’ such a big deal out of it.”

“And am I not entitled?” Rarity shouted back. “I lost my house, Applejack! My house!”

“Um, so did I,” Fluttershy mumbled. She shrunk away, and Rarity stared.

“You—I—this is different!”

Fluttershy squeaked and hid her face behind her mane, and Rarity turned away.

“Let’s just get going,” Twilight said. Pinkie started the torch, and Applejack grabbed the wheel. Rarity walked to the back of the ship, looking at them sulkily.

By the time the balloon had taken them off the ground, she had calmed down somewhat, but in her eyes Twilight still saw the angry sorrow. Overreaction or not, Rarity was right; she had lost everything, and Twilight knew she couldn’t begrudge her for her outburst. In time, she knew, Rarity would come to begrudge herself.

They floated back toward the town center, heading for Sugarcube Corner. Rainbow and Fluttershy spoke quietly on the other side of the ship, and Pinkie moved around aimlessly. Twilight walked over to Rarity, who looked at her, not with anger, but with defeated eyes, and Pinkie came up behind.

“Rarity, I know you’re upset,” Twilight said. “And I know you’re angry. I know you feel like, like…” “Like what? Rarity’s right; I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing.”

“Like I was violated? Stolen from?” Rarity offered.

“Um, yeah, I guess so.”

She sighed. “I still can’t believe it. One second, I was grabbing one of my mannequins from upstairs. I knew it would probably fall, but at the same time, I didn’t actually believe it.”

Pinkie moved closer to comfort her, but she angled herself away.

“And then you shouted, and I ran. I don’t think I’ve ran that fast in my life, Twilight. My heart was pounding.” She took a shuddering breath. “I remember thinking to myself, ‘oops! Looks like it’s time to go now!’ as I ran down the stairs. Isn’t that funny? Such a frivolous thought, when my life is about to go slipping away.” She raised her hoof and waved it gently in the wind as she said it, as though evincing the very slip she described.

Twilight furrowed her brow, and Pinkie put a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, giving it an affectionate rub.

“As I ran for the door, I still didn’t quite believe it. You were wrong, I thought, you had to be. The shop wasn’t tipping at all, it had just groaned again, but I knew I had to get out just in case. I ran at the door, but hit the mannequin; the silly thing got caught on the door-frame. And you came in after me, Twilight, and I wanted to tell you to get out, and that I didn’t need any help. I didn’t, really. I was just a little dizzy.” She rubbed her head. “But you came in and tried to help me up, and you fell, and we were definitely tipping then, and I would have gone back to help you but I was already past you and then Rainbow Dash flew in and grabbed you and then it fell and, and, and…” She let out a little gasp-sigh. “And it was gone. No more shop, no more sewing, no more fabrics, no more four-corner bed, no more any of it.”

“It’s okay, Rarity,” Twilight said. “I know it looks bad, but at least you made it out. You can find another building; they’re putting up new ones all the time.”

“Oh, Twilight, you’re so kind,” she said. “I’m sorry for yelling at you all, especially you, Pinkie. I didn’t mean any of what I said. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I already have,” Twilight said, smiling warmly at her.

Pinkie nuzzled her. “I still love you, Rarity. Everypony gets a little upset sometimes.” She smiled and gasped. “Oh! When we get back to the library, we should have to have a ‘feel better everypony’ party! Oh, it’ll be the biggest I’ve ever had! I’ll need to get more streamers and games and punch and cake and music than ever before! Oh, and maybe even—”

“Uh, Pinkie,” Twilight cut in, “I don’t think we should have a party just yet. Maybe after we’ve repaired things. And after we all get some sleep.”

“Yes, sleep,” Rarity said softly.

Applejack looked back at them. “We’re ‘bout three minutes away from the bakery.”

“Great. We get to explain the whole thing again.”

“Pinkie, you were the one that left in the middle of the night; I think you should tell them what happened,” Twilight said.

“Okey-dokey-lokey!”

“But,” Rarity started, “perhaps you should leave out the whole part about it being your… well, doing, I suppose.”

“What should I tell ‘em?”

“Just tell them it was Discord, and not you.”

Twilight nodded and yawned. “And let’s try to be quick about it. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Me too,” Rarity said.

“Me three!” Pinkie cheered.

“Pinkie, what’re you doin’? We’re almost there; take us down,” Applejack said.

“Oops! Sorry, Applejack!” Pinkie disappeared in a flash, turning off the motor and the torch an instant later.

With her gone, Rarity looked at Twilight seriously. “I am sorry, Twilight.”

“I know, Rarity. It’s okay. I know you were upset; I would be too.”

“It’s just so much to take.”

“I know. But you’ll be fine, in time. We all will. As long as we stay together, it’ll all be okay.”

“I guess you’re right.” Rarity gave her a small smile.

They drifted to the ground, landing a little long of Pinkie’s home. The bakery was still mostly intact, with only a few of the ornamentations strewn on the lawn or caught on the eaves. The windows were broken, but no glass sparkled on the ground. The sign hung a little precariously, and there was a small hole in the roof, but the building appeared to stand straight. “We’ll see how it is inside,” Twilight thought as they approached it.

As they approached the doors, they were flung open, revealing a distressed, but then relieved, Mrs. Cake. “Pinkie Pie! Oh, and your friends! Come in, come in.”

She ushered them in hurriedly and called for her husband. Mr. Cake trotted down the stairs excitedly, and, upon seeing Pinkie, rushed up and grabbed her in a hug that she excitedly reciprocated.

Twilight looked around the bakery, astounded. Whether through the luck of a strong foundation or hours of hard work, there were hardly any signs of damage. Some of the display cases were missing their glass, and the stairs’ banister was cracked and askew, but that was all.

“Come and sit with us,” Mr. Cake said, leading them into an anteroom, where Pinkie usually held her parties. There was only a pair of chairs there, and Mr. Cake offered his to Pinkie, who sat down. The others stood, hoping not to have to wait long.

“We were so worried about you, Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake said. “I know you tend to go off on your own a lot, but last night was different. And then, the earthquake! Could you believe it? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but it was powerful enough to split the ground beneath our hooves! Split it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell us about it,” Twilight thought ruefully.

“Are you okay? You look exhausted,” Mr. Cake said.

“We are a little tired, but that’s okay!” Pinkie said.

“Well, of course you must tell us what happened,” Mrs. Cake said.

“A lot,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, a lot,” Rainbow echoed.

Twilight nodded, and Pinkie smiled.

There was a moment of silence while Pinkie tried to find a way to start her story, and then she began, speaking in her usual, breathless way. It was not as if she were describing the darkest day in Canterlot history, but one of her plans for a party. She raced through the meeting at the library, through the flight to Canterlot, through the session with Celestia in the vault, all without dropping her smile. At this, the Cakes were leaning in intensely, and when she began to speak of the actual battle, they called a halt—it was too much for them to take at once, and they needed a moment to process it. Their very own Pinkie Pie, at war. How could it be? She told them of the fighting, glossing over the conclusion and pinning the earthquake spell on Discord. She finished, with everyone else beginning to nod off, with their princess-given duty, and the Cakes only stared at her, long and concerned.

“But that would mean you have to travel all around Equestria,” Mr. Cake said.

“Yeah, it does,” Applejack said heavily.

“Pinkie, dear, you can’t be serious,” Mrs. Cake said. “You can’t just leave like this. It’s unsafe, especially with Discord running around. Why can’t the princesses handle this?”

“They’re going to help us,” Twilight said.

“They’re goin’ after Discord,” Applejack said. “Keepin’ him away from us, if they can.”

“Even so,” Mr. Cake said. “I’m sorry, Pinkie, but I do not approve of this at all.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cake, but I don’t have a choice. None of us do,” Pinkie said.

“How are you the only ponies in Equestria who can do this? Seems a bit presumptuous to me,” Mrs. Cake said. “It sounds to me like the princesses are just making an assumption.”

Twilight resisted the urge to defend the princesses to the Cakes; it would only complicate things, and she was ready to go to the library.

“We are the Elements of Harmony,” Pinkie said.

“Yeah, we’ve done stuff like this before,” Rainbow said.

“But this sounds different,” Mr. Cake said.

“Yes indeed. You’re not talking about a couple days in the Everfree Forest, or Canterlot,” Mrs. Cake pressed. “This is much bigger.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Pinkie said.

Mrs. Cake sighed. “I still don’t think it’s right.”

“You’re so young. Why did the princesses select you to be the Elements of Harmony in the first place?” Mr. Cake asked.

“They didn’t; nopony selected us,” Twilight said, not entirely certain whether it was true.

“Is there anything we can say to make you reconsider?” Mr. Cake asked, and Pinkie shook her head. He sighed, and put a hoof on Mrs. Cake as she opened her mouth to protest. “If it’s their duty, it’s their duty. We don’t have to like it, but we can’t interfere with the princess’ plan.”

Mrs. Cake scowled, but kept quiet.

“We’re going to cast the first spell here, in Ponyville,” Twilight said, hoping to cheer her.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Mrs. Cake said weakly.

“When?” Mr. Cake asked.

“Tomorrow, if we can manage it,” Twilight said, and they raised their eyebrows.

“That quickly? Goodness.”

“If we can manage it,” Twilight repeated. “I’m not feeling quite myself, so I might not be able to cast the spell so soon.”

“Well, I can certainly see why,” Mrs. Cake said. “You must be just exhausted from your… war. Celestia, I still can’t believe it. A war, in Canterlot! How did it happen?”

“We don’t know exactly,” Rainbow said, “but Discord managed to summon his army right outside the city. Nopony got any warning.”

“No warning at all? But the army can’t have been that big, right?” Mr. Cake said.

“Actually, no. It was huge; bigger than Canterlot’s army,” Twilight said.

“But how can that be? You defeated Discord only six months ago. That’s not enough time to come up with an army that size.”

“We don’t know how he did it,” Twilight said. “But he did. We got our letter literally ten minutes after they first attacked.”

The Cakes only shook their heads sympathetically. “You brave ponies,” Mrs. Cake murmured.

“So what are you going to do after this?” Mr. Cake asked.

“After we fix Equestria?” Applejack asked.

“No no, after visiting us. Night is falling, and you look exhausted.”

“We’re just going to head over to the library,” Twilight said. “We’ll figure out if there’s a better place to sleep tomorrow.”

“We understand. Are you hungry at all? We have a few cupcakes still that survived the earthquake, if you want anything.”

“I’ll have some! Who couldn’t say no to cupcakes?” Pinkie said, leaping up from her chair; the others politely declined. They followed her into the front room, where the Cakes had produced a few pink cupcakes.

“The shop doesn’t seem to have been hurt too badly,” Twilight said. She didn’t want to start another conversation, but standing in the front room with Pinkie noisily eating was too awkward for her.

“We got lucky,” Mrs. Cake said. “But there’s still a lot of work to do. The upper floors are a mess.”

“Would you like any help repairing?”

Applejack shot a look at Twilight, who only looked at the Cakes curiously. She didn’t know what compelled her to offer their services, when the farm was in much worse condition.

“Oh, would you mind? It isn’t that bad, but any extra hooves would be greatly appreciated,” Mr. Cake said.

“Sure, we’d be glad to help,” Twilight said, and Rarity nodded distantly while Pinkie finished her last cupcake.

Seeing this, Rainbow cleared her throat. “Well, we should probably get going. We have to check on the library still, and Spike.”

“Oh, yes, please, don’t let us keep you,” Mrs. Cake said. She walked them to the door. Outside, the sun had set entirely, and fireflies hovered by the bakery’s windowsills.

“Well, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” Twilight said. “When do you want us?”

“Oh, any time, really. We’ll probably be up at eight or so, but I doubt we’ll get to work until nine.”

“Okay. We’re going to try casting our spell first, so… I don’t know, maybe noon?” “Why am I doing this?”

“No rush, dearies,” Mrs. Cake said.

“Go home and get some rest,” Mr. Cake said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya tomorrow, Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie chirped as they exited the shop.

Only when they had the ship back in the air did anypony speak. It was Rainbow. “Twilight, how are we gonna sleep in the library? There’s only a bed for one other of us, and there’s no way we’re all fitting.”

“I’m sure I can find something in the basement,” Twilight said, not wanting to admit that she hadn’t given sleeping arrangements a single whit of thought. Before she could get comfortable on the ship, they were descending again, and her library—her home—stood before them, shaken, but unharmed. Like Sugarcube Corner, its windows had been shattered, but there was no glass that she could see on the lawn, nor leaves shaken from the huge boughs.

They landed on the front lawn, where they had taken off in a different, less sophisticated airship not twenty-four hours ago. As they walked down the ramp, the door opened a crack, stayed ajar for a second, then flung itself open, a small, purple flash barreling across the grass and over to Twilight. She braced herself and received the baby dragon’s considerable force into her chest, capturing him in a tight hug that he reciprocated with a crying squeeze.

“Twilight! Twilight, oh Celestia, Twilight, I can’t believe, I was so worried,” he stammered into her fur, and she simply stroked his scales gently. For minutes, they stood like this, she holding him tightly and absorbing all the anxiety he had built up from last night, and he crying it into her fur without shame. She let him press his face into her chest, and despite the weight of emotion upon her, her fatigue was still greater. Embracing him, she could think only of her bed. The others watched respectfully, and when he finally gathered himself and broke away, he wiped his eyes and coughed, trying to affect a casual air.

“So, uh, what’s goin’ on? Back already?”

Twilight sighed and walked to the door. As soon as she was inside, she looked around. Most of the bookshelves had been untouched, as were the books; only a few had fallen, scattering their contents around the floor. The others diffused inside behind her and found spots to sit or lie down; Rarity took the couch, Rainbow perched on a bookshelf, and Fluttershy sat by the cold fireplace. Pinkie and Applejack sat in the middle of the floor.

“Sorry about the mess,” Spike said, eying them all. “I’ve been cleaning all day, but I guess I didn’t do it fast enough.”

“Spike, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Twilight said, hugging him again. “Thank you for cleaning what you did, though. How is everything else?”

“Just fine,” he said proudly. “Your room was a real mess, but I fixed that first, and then the kitchen, and then this room. There’s a little structural damage, though.”

“I’m just glad it’s still standing.”

“Yeah, about that. Uh… so, what exactly is going on?”

Twilight sighed again. “It’s a really long story, Spike, and we’ve been telling it to other ponies all day.”

His face fell. “Oh. So, you’re all pretty tired, huh.”

“Uh, yeah,” Rainbow said, stifling a yawn. She looked over at Rarity, who was already asleep.

“Well… I guess I understand.”

“I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, Spike,” Twilight said. “I promise.”

He nodded and smiled at her. “Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow. You’re safe; that’s the important thing. I can wait a little longer for the story.” He jumped up. “Oh! I just remembered something. Hold on.”

He went up the stairs, and Twilight looked around at her friends. Fluttershy was quiet as ever, but attentive, and she gave Twilight a small smile when she looked her way. Applejack was slowly drifting off next to Pinkie, who sat still and held her eyes only half open. Rainbow snored on the top of the bookshelf.

Spike came back down, holding a scroll in his claws—still sealed, Twilight noticed with a small smile of appreciation—and he handed it to her.

“How long ago did you get this?” she asked.

“Five, six hours ago.”

She hesitated a bit with her horn, remembering the pain she had felt in Rarity’s boutique, and tried levitating the scroll. Her horn and head were sore, but she managed to pull it out of Spike’s grip and hold it before her eyes.

Dearest Twilight,

I hope this letter finds you well. You have done much for Canterlot and for Equestria, but your journey is only just beginning. At the bottom of this letter are directions for you to establish a more direct connection with us for the exchange of letters; when you have cast the spell correctly, you will receive a test scroll.

In regards to our elevation over the Gaia, Luna expressed concern that the air that we brought up with us may leak out. I have looked into the situation, and, with a slight alteration to the enchantments at our borders, am happy to say that this is no longer a threat. Discord is still unaccounted for, but it appears our elevation, at least, will not pose any immediate problems.

I know you are confused, and I apologize that I cannot give you more answers. All I can say is this: please, do not underestimate Discord. Your prior experience with him is but a suggestion of his power, and not indicative of his true nature. I urge you to read about his regime from before Luna and I came to power, as that will help you understand what we are all up against. He likes to present himself as a joker and a buffoon, but, I assure you, this is no game. I can only guess that his previous appearance was his way of probing our defenses. Though I have no proof, I fear his preparations for yesterday’s battle have been going on for a very long time. I should not have to tell you that this carries horrifying implications.

As for the flying ship, it has been spotted in the deserts to the south. What it is doing, I have no idea; it seems to be adrift. Considering everything else that’s going on, it is not very high on my list of priorities.

When you are done in Ponyville, I would request that you come back to Canterlot.

In love and friendship,
Princess Celestia
Princess Luna

P.S.: Please tell Spike that he is to remain in Ponyville and take care of the library in your stead.

P.P.S.: There is no telling what lies in store for you on this adventure; I advise that you all stay together as much as you are able. Our blessing on all of you!

She examined the short instruction on the bottom of the scroll, a relatively simple spell. She dropped the letter and concentrated on the directions, her horn warm with the effort. Immediately, she felt something different, something foreign, in the spell, originating at the base of her horn and intensifying hotly at the tip. Her horn burned at its core, and the heat built up and slowly released through the tip, like a strip of fabric being pulled roughly out of her. She closed her eyes and continued concentrating, gritting her teeth through the pain until the ribbon ended, leaving a small sense of emptiness in her, which too faded quickly.

The sound of falling paper reached her ears, and she looked down at the floor to see another scroll. She picked it up and read the single word on it: Testing. She smiled and looked around; only Fluttershy was awake.

“Come on, Fluttershy,” she said, moving for the stairs.

“Are you just going to leave them where they are?”

“I might as well. It’s not like I could put them anywhere better anyway.”

They walked up the stairs slowly, Twilight first and Spike bringing up the rear. When they entered Twilight’s room, Fluttershy went immediately for the guest bed.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay up and talk, Twilight. I’m just so tired.”

“It’s no problem, Fluttershy. I’m tired too.” She yawned. “Good night. Good night, Spike.”

“Night, Twilight.”

She slipped under the covers and was almost immediately asleep.