Twilight woke up first, her eyes tired and her back a little stiff. Her mind was muddy, and she blinked as she looked around the room. The sun was already up, casting a bright circle on the carpet through the window. She slowly approached the window and looked outside when her eyes had adjusted; it was about eleven. She closed her eyes for a long time, relishing the moment of almost-sleep and wishing she could keep them closed for a few more hours.

She forced herself more alert with a small groan and nudged Pinkie and Applejack, then Rarity, awake. While they collected themselves, she went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door, waking a grouchy Rainbow and an almost inaudible Fluttershy.

When she went back down, the others were more awake, Applejack in the kitchen helping Spike with breakfast.

“Oh, Twilight, I forgot to show you all last night, but I finished our outfits for the visitation and funeral,” Rarity said sleepily.

“Oh Celestia, that’s right! The visitation! Oh, when is it again?”

“One to three, darling.”

“It’s in the hospital, in one of the wings at the back,” Fluttershy said, coming down the stairs.

“Right. Now I remember,” Twilight said.

“I don’t suppose you or Rainbow saw the outfits I put together, did you?” Rarity asked.

“I did,” Fluttershy said.

“What did you think? I’m afraid I didn’t have much fabric to work with, so they couldn’t be quite as elegant as I wanted, but…”

“Oh, Rarity, I thought they were beautiful.”

Pinkie perked her ears up at the word. “Beautiful! I love beautiful things! I wanna see! I wanna see!” She shot to her hooves and ran up the stairs, almost knocking over Rainbow in her haste.

They followed her, and Rarity went into the corner where she had hung her dresses, magically lifting them out into the center of the room for them to see. Twilight knew how few materials Rarity had at her disposal, and was all the more impressed at the row of outfits she had produced. They were all long-skirted, straight and neatly pressed dresses, sleeveless and austere. Each one was a dark and muted imitation of their own coat colors, but otherwise identical, and came with thin, silver scarves.

“Oh, Rarity, these are amazing,” Twilight said.

“Ah gotta agree with Twilight. You made these out of those measly fabrics you brought back?” Applejack asked.

“Every one,” Rarity said proudly.

Rainbow made a slight gagging noise. “They’re so… boring.”

“Rainbow, it’s not supposed to be an exciting time,” Twilight said. “These are supposed to be somber clothes, meant to signify our respect for the dead and bereaved.”

“So how are we gonna do this?” Applejack asked. “The visitation’s at one, an’ we start construction at noon. It’ll take us a good twenty minutes to get there both ways; it seems to me we might as well just show up late to the construction.”

“I’m completely okay with that,” Rainbow said.

“Oh, but what about Icy? He’s not going to be happy with us,” Fluttershy said.

“Icy can go suck, uh, eggs.”

“Why would somepony want to suck eggs?” Pinkie cried, bouncing over and looking closely at her own dress. “Especially when they can suck some lollipops instead! Eggs aren’t sweet at all! They’re kind of boring, really.”

“Aaaaaall right, Pinkie, Ah’m not gonna ask how ya know that,” Applejack said.

“What about Big Macintosh and the girls?” Twilight asked.

“Big Mac’ll be there. Ah ain’t so sure ‘bout the fillies.”

“We should have breakfast first,” Rarity said, “and then we can get ready to go.”

They went downstairs and ate a light breakfast; Spike had woken up only a little bit before Twilight, and hadn’t had much time to prepare. He asked guardedly about the visitation, and Twilight, after an uncomfortably silent minute of deliberation in which he refused to break eye contact with her, told him to stay behind to look after the library. He only looked down into his porridge and mumbled assent.

After breakfast, they still had twenty minutes before having to leave, so they took a quick trip to the river. They were filthy and uncomfortable from the construction the day before, the dust and dirt dried into their coats with sleep; plunging into the cool waters was exactly what Twilight needed to refresh her body and wake her up the rest of the way.

When they got back, they went immediately upstairs to put on their dresses. For Twilight and Rarity, it was a simple moment of magic, but for the others, it was not so easy, and they had to spend the next fifteen minutes helping push hooves through sleeves and fastening clasps.

“These are wonderful, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, admiring her own shadowy, butter-yellow dress.

“Thank you, darling. It took some doing, and I used up most of what I managed to save from the… the boutique. But I did it, and I could not be happier with the results.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to get to the hospital? It’s about twelve-thirty now,” Rainbow said, looking out the window.

“It should only take us twenty minutes to walk there,” Rarity said. “We should go now.”

They exited the library, Twilight giving Spike a shout of goodbye.

“Um, am I the only one who hasn’t ever been to a visitation?” Rainbow asked.

“Oh, I haven’t either,” Fluttershy said.

“It’s really quite simple, darlings,” Rarity said. “We just go in, greet Bonbon, and take our seats. We can talk with the others that come by, but, of course, we need to stay quiet, out of respect. Once everypony’s there, the funeral director tells us what’s going to happen, then we stay a little longer, and go.”

“It’s just that easy,” Applejack said.

“Oh, okay then,” Fluttershy said. “I hope Bonbon is okay. Do you think she’ll be okay today, Pinkie?”

Pinkie chuckled. “Yeah, duh! She’s Bonbon; I mean, her name is candy, so how can she not be okay?”

“Just remember to show some support, Pinkie,” Rarity said, and Pinkie frowned.

“I can be supportive, Rarity. ‘Supportive’ is practically my middle name.”

“I’m just saying… you know, tone down your excitement.”

She giggled. “No problem!” Then, sobering, she cleared her throat. “I mean, no problem,” she said in a darker, calmer voice.

Rarity rolled her eyes.

They crested a hill and saw the hospital in the distance. It was only a few miles from the library, and separated from them by a long expanse of empty, grassy field. Wildflowers grew and the air was full of tiny, springtime insects, and the river was a shining ribbon to the side, hemming them in against the Everfree Forest. Where it bent sharply north, the hospital sat on a long, smooth egg of land, its back end only a small distance away from the water.

The field around it was beautiful, but the sight of the hospital building itself gave them pause. From their distance, it looked like a shadow had fallen on its face, but as they got closer, the shadow deepened into a hole. The front end had fallen away partially, leaving a gaping mouth of tile and defunct electric lights. The wreckage had been cleared away, and the smooth-edged hole seemed more a deliberate variation in its architecture than the result of the earthquake; it was cordoned off with yellow tape, and a series of large signs was set up in the roundabout before it pointing to a small, glass door on the side. They could make out a carriage parked there, and the thin, black hairs of electric wiring that stretched on into the distance, to fall back to earth in gentle swoops where they had been snapped by the pulling tension of the world.

The scene, so grand and so foreign, silenced them, and so they remained until they entered. A help desk had been angled toward the smaller door, and an overworked receptionist pointed them to the back of the hospital, to the small funerary wing. The corridors were white and constricting, and Twilight felt the beginnings of unease as she traversed them; they were silent, and in the depths of the building, where no sunlight could reach them, they had to rely on the incongruous, waving light of torches to guide them.

They were sweating when they reached the funeral area, a softly lit, softly carpeted corridor with one attached room to the side and a small office at the end. A line of small, narrow-arched windows set deep in the walls let in sharp bands of light, cutting the dark and dust stringently. The walls were hung with portraits of distinguished ponies, each wearing tuxedos or fancy dresses, a small tag at the frames’ bottoms with their names: past and present funeral directors, or eminent ponies who had used their services. There was a tiny table set up on the opposite wall adorned with a modest, silver tray of small, pastel cookies and a sparkling decanter of water, paired with a stack of tiny disposable cups.

“Oooooh, cookies!” Pinkie squealed, running over to the table and shoveling the sweets into her mouth.

“Pinkie!” Rarity hissed, and the pink pony looked back at her guiltily; a funeral directress was looking through her open office door at the scene.

Pinkie swallowed and smiled guiltily before returning to the group.

“This is a place of respect, and quiet,” Rarity said, leveling Pinkie with a stern gaze.

The funeral directress, a sea-blue unicorn with a dark fuchsia and sky blue-streaked mane, stepped over to them from her office. “Are you here for Lyra?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Twilight said evenly.

The directress nodded and indicated the door to their left. They went in and looked around. They were alone inside a small chapel, ten rows of pews deep and two columns wide. Unlike the rest of the hospital, the walls were brick and inset with stained glass windows, depicting peaceful, colorful scenes of ponies in repose or staring comfortingly down on the room. A pipe organ, keys shrouded by a thick, dusty tarp, guarded the back of the room, and a thick, perfumed smell hung in the air like smoke, floral and citrusy and cloying enough to make their noses itch.

At the chapel’s front was the casket, propped on a white linen-covered table and open at the top to show Lyra’s peaceful face. On the center of the casket, there was a simple quintet of white carnations arranged on a tangled, looping nest of wild ivy. In the chapel’s subdued light, the ivy gave the carnations a very slight green cast, almost mirroring Lyra’s color. Twilight wondered whether it was planned.

They formed a line and walked past her, their faces, even Pinkie’s, grave. Rainbow brought up the rear, and looked a bit longer at Lyra; her mint-green fur had been brushed, her horn had been filed and polished, her eyes had been closed, and her face had been readjusted to reflect the serenity of death, but there was something about her that made Rainbow recoil slightly. She looked good, but at the same time, she didn’t look right; she looked deflated, lessened, like her insides had been squished out. She didn’t know what she had expected, but, standing over the casket, she knew it wasn’t this: the simple, un-pompous corpse with hooves crossed over her chest, not bedecked with flowers or garlands, but simply and heavily there. A depression in a soft blanket, a focal point in a chapel, a part of someone else’s life that had been suddenly and inextricably removed. Gone, but not from her.

Rainbow looked closer, holding her breath against the almost acidic perfume, strong and physical on Lyra’s body; she could make out a set of incongruities in the fur on her neck: scars. She inhaled in sudden surprise; they had been stitched expertly and subtly, but were still huge and horrible, lines right on her throat. Rainbow backed away quickly and joined her friends, trying not to imagine what must have caused them.

“This place is beautiful,” Twilight said, and Rarity nodded.

“It’s so peaceful,” Fluttershy said.

“Definitely… quiet,” Applejack said. “We should probably get outta here, though. Might not be in the best taste to be here before Bonbon is.”

“Right,” Rarity said, leading them back out the door.

Rainbow sneaked another look at Lyra as she passed; the scars on her neck now stood out easily to her, and Rainbow cringed, hating herself for the morbid fascination she found in them.

They went out the door into the main hall just in time to see Bonbon enter through the hospital door. She looked at them and nodded a greeting; they went to her.

“Oh, Bonbon, darling, it’s good to see you,” Rarity said kindly.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” she said. “Sorry I couldn’t reach you directly.”

“How you holdin’ up, sugarcube?” Applejack asked quietly.

Bonbon smiled humorlessly. “I’ll live.”

Pinkie walked up to her and gave her a hug, which she loosely returned, after which she moved aside for the funeral directress.

“Are you Bonbon?” she asked.

“I am.”

She indicated the chapel, and Bonbon went in, the six friends following reverently behind. They waited at the door frame while she examined Lyra, staring long and hard, and even leaning down to touch her fur with her muzzle. They all expected Bonbon to cry, but she didn’t; she looked around the chapel in the same manner that they had, her tired-looking eyes dry and disinterested. With a small hum of thought to herself, she went back out into the hall to speak with the funeral directress, leaving the chapel, again, empty.

“Let’s just sit down, I suppose,” Rainbow said, picking a spot in the front row.

“That’s a lovely flower arrangement,” Rarity said idly; she actually didn’t care for it at all, but she cared for the tense silence even less.

“Yes, it is,” Twilight said. “I wonder who made it.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Rainbow said solemnly; her tone made Twilight turn in surprise. “Attend a funeral, I mean.”

“This isn’t the funeral, Rainbow,” Twilight said. “This is just the visitation.”

“No, I know that. It’s just, I never thought I’d be somewhere like this.”

Twilight didn’t look away, and she spoke more.

“I always told myself I would avoid sad things like this, but here I am.”

“Hey girls,” a familiar voice said from the threshold. Colgate stepped in, looked over Lyra cursorily, swept the chapel with one long, impersonal gaze, and took a seat in the row next to Twilight’s. “Bonbon sure is taking it well.”

“That’s Bonbon for you,” Pinkie said, smiling, her unchecked voice echoing around the chapel with an almost sacrilegious ferocity.

Rarity scowled at her, but said nothing.

“Yeah, she’s a trooper, that’s for sure. Though I have to wonder,” her voice dropped, “she seems a little too okay. You know?”

“I noticed the same exact thing,” Rarity said.

“I think she’s hiding from her feelings,” Fluttershy said.

“An’ every time we ask her how she’s doin’, all she says is ‘Ah’ll be fine’,” Applejack said.

“She never says anything else,” Twilight said.

Colgate nodded. “She wasn’t friends with a lot of ponies here, besides Lyra. Has no one to turn to.”

“What about Cheerilee?” Fluttershy asked.

Colgate shook her head. “They’re acquaintances, but they’re not close like she and Lyra. No, I don’t think Bonbon has anyone to comfort her, not really.”

“That’s why she’s puttin’ on a tough front,” Applejack said.

“She thinks if she can convince herself that she’s okay, she really will be,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah, most likely. I’ve seen ponies do that before,” Colgate said. “The good doctor, for instance.”

“Doctor Whooves? Really? But he seems so strong, and smart,” Rarity said.

“Intelligence has nothing to do with it, or so I’ve learned. But I’m talking myself into a place I really shouldn’t be. Did you go down to the construction site yet?”

“No, we haven’t,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Icy’s probably really mad,” Fluttershy said.

“Icy can bite my flank,” Colgate said sharply. She took a moment to compose herself, looking away. “Sorry. Really, sorry.”

“It’s okay, Colgate,” Twilight said gently, worriedly. “It’s not a big deal.”

Colgate took a deep breath. “You all know what he did to Derpy, right?”

“He made her cry,” Fluttershy said quietly.

“Made her fly back home, crying all the way. She’s quite sensitive, you know, and Icy said all the wrong things to her yesterday. I’d be surprised if she’s back today.”

“She really shouldn’t come back,” Pinkie said. “A big meanie like him doesn’t deserve her help.”

“I completely agree,” Rarity said.

“Howdy, Big Mac,” Applejack said; they all looked up to see the red stallion entering the room.

“Where are the girls?” Twilight asked.

“This ain’t the place for ‘em, Ah reckon,” he said, “so Ah left ‘em with Granny Smith.”

“Good thinking,” Colgate said. “We don’t want to have them around for this. Celestia knows they were enough trouble yesterday.”

“Trouble?” Rarity repeated, her eyes narrowed a little.

“I suppose you didn’t see it, but they were digging around in the rubble, running around between the walls, and generally being, well, kids. I can’t believe Icy didn’t blow a gasket about them.”

“He must be more patient with kids,” Pinkie said.

“Well, he was certainly something.”

At this, two more ponies came in, followed by Bonbon, who took her place by the head of the casket. The talking died for a moment, but came back when all was still. The ponies mingled politely, exchanging condolences and pleasantries, while Bonbon watched. As the hour wore on to one-thirty, the chapel filled up, the breathy susurrus of hushed conversation filling the air and rising to the rafters.

Eventually, the funeral directress they had seen outside came in with two others. “Hello, everypony,” she said. “I’m Orchid Dew, this is Chilly Puddle, and this is Clockwork.” She indicated the earth pony, a gray-blue coated, periwinkle-maned mare to her left and the terracotta-coated, eggshell-maned unicorn to her right. “Just a little bit about ourselves first. We’ve been funeral directors for ten years now, except Clockwork, who’s only been one for eight. In light of the recent… circumstances, I guess, we’ve been working extra hard to provide ponies with excellent care and unforgettable services. Again, we’re sorry for the short notice on this visitation, and for the service, which we just found will be held tomorrow, at two o’ clock, in Ponyville cemetery.”

“I’d just like to say,” Chilly Puddle said, “that we’ve been working to provide service to many ponies at the same time, and we scarcely have time to plan our services before somepony else comes along.”

“We have to do these funerals as quick as we can,” Clockwork said. “We would be going more slowly, but the earthquake damaged our storage areas, and we lost almost all of our embalming fluid. There’s… no pretty way to say this. We need to have services for these ponies before they start to decompose.”

“That’s why there’s so much perfume,” Chilly Puddle said.

“Yes, indeed,” Orchid Dew said, nodding reverently. “So, tomorrow, we all meet here first, at two, and go directly to the cemetery. It’s a secular service, so we won’t be going to church first, like you might have at other funerals. It should take maybe an hour, forty-five minutes, something like that.”

“We have the spot in the cemetery already picked out, and we have everypony we need to conduct the service,” Clockwork said.

“There will be a carriage for Lyra, and for Bonbon, but no one else, so be sure to secure your own transportation,” Chilly Puddle said.

“For those of you who’ve never been to a funeral before,” Orchid Dew said, “it’s really simple. A lector will be there to say a few words over Lyra’s casket, and then Bonbon will give her eulogy, then leave the podium open for anyone else who has anything to say. Then we bury her, have a moment of silence, and have a reception afterwards.”

“We reserved a reception room downstairs, here,” Clockwork said.

“Are there any questions?” Orchid Dew asked.

There were none, and so the directresses left them to their socializing; Bonbon joined them outside the chapel.

“What time is it?” Colgate asked, looking around for a clock; there was none present.

“We should probably get goin’, whatever time it is,” Applejack said.

Colgate stood up. “I suppose so.”

They each followed suit and approached Bonbon, outside, taking their turns saying goodbye and expressing their condolences. Bonbon took their words with the same isolated aloofness as ever, and they left.

When they made it out of the hospital, Rainbow looked up at the sun. “Oh, ponyfeathers. Two-thirty.”

“Am I the only one who’s considering not showing up at all?” Colgate asked.

“No,” Rarity said, “you’re not alone.”

“We can’t abandon them,” Twilight said sternly. “We made a promise to help out, and we should see it through.”

“I didn’t make any promises,” Rainbow said. “None of us did.”

“Yeah, we didn’t,” Pinkie said.

“Well, it’s still the right thing to do,” Twilight said.

“That doesn’t mean I want to do it,” Colgate said.

The walk to Doctor Whooves’ house took them thirty minutes, but even before they arrived at the site, they could see, and hear, that all was not well. The first thing they recognized was Icy’s pugilistic voice, bellowing, and a smaller, angry voice shouting in response. There were other voices mixed in, all of them angry and all of them tangled up with one another to form an uproar that made them reluctant to join.

They approached hesitantly, not at all eager to get involved; the only ponies who weren’t participating in the din were Aloe and Lotus, who held their own hushed counsel together, away from the angry group, centered around Icy. Twilight approached the twins slowly, allowing them time to notice her and finish their private conversation.

When she was close, she addressed them. “What’s going on here?”

Aloe was the first to answer. “Oh, Twilight, awful news. Doctor Whooves has left us.”

“Left?” Applejack repeated.

“There was a note on his doorstep. He has left Ponyville.”

“The coward,” Lotus said angrily.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that the guy who owns the house we’re trying to rebuild went and ran away?” Rainbow said.

Aloe nodded.

“What the hell?” Rainbow looked first at them, then at Twilight. “So, what, we’re doing this for nothing now?”

“I… guess so,” Twilight said. “Why are you looking at me?”

“How? There’s nowhere for him to go,” Rarity said.

“We have no idea,” Aloe said, shaking her head.

“We might as well just tear this whole thing down,” Lotus spat.

“Did he say why he left?” Twilight asked.

“All the note said was ‘I’m sorry, but I need to leave.’ No explanation whatsoever,” Aloe said.

They fell silent and glared at Icy, who was approaching from behind. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt you all,” he said in a mock-apologetic tone. “Please, don’t let me get in the way. This undertaking can wait for you all.”

“What do you want?” Rainbow asked testily.

“Oh, you’re one to be in a bad mood!” he snapped. “Where the hell were you all? I was here, and all these other ponies were here, but where were half my unicorns? The whole project barely got started today thanks to your truancy.” He eyed them all angrily.

“What does it matter? Whooves is gone,” Rainbow said frankly.

“Oh, Whooves is gone, is he? Oh, boo-hoo, guess we’re all just wasting our time then. You heard the mare, everypony, Whooves is gone, so let’s all go home and relax with a nice book.”

“She has a point, you know,” Sea Swirl said.

“Just because the homeowner is not present does not mean we can just stop building halfway through.”

“Yes it does,” Colgate said mildly.

He looked at her impatiently. “Are you serious? What do you propose, we just leave this beginning of a house unfinished? You don’t know where he’s gone; he could be back tomorrow.”

“He won’t be back,” Lotus said evenly.

“And how do you know?”

“This is not the first time he has run away. Knowing him, he won’t be returning anytime soon,” Aloe said.

“We can’t be sure of that.”

“We can,” Lotus said, and Aloe nodded behind her, fixing Icy with a venomous stare; it surprised Twilight to see such a horrible look come from the ordinarily kind pony.

Icy shifted his weight awkwardly, feeling the aggression from all sides; his expression was defiant, his eyes slivers, his mouth pressed into a contrary grimace. “Well, I am the project director, and the only pony with a lick of experience here, and I say we stay and finish the task.”

“You can’t order us around!” Rainbow shouted, and he waved her off; his eyes were locked on Lotus’, and hers his. They approached each other slowly, and the others backed up.

“I say we stay and fulfill our commitment,” he said slowly.

“It is useless. You are now wasting everypony’s time,” she returned.

“If anything, they’re wasting my time. I was not the one who showed up two hours late.”

“You cannot order us around like this, like slaves.”

“You agreed to put me in charge.”

“We agreed to work together,” Lotus said, her voice intensifying.

“That’s all well and good, but without me, all the togetherness in Equestria wouldn’t help you build this house.”

“Which is now a hopeless cause.”

“For such a good friend, you have pitiably little faith that Doctor Whooves will return.”

Lotus tensed, and her voice grew more intense still. “He does not have a place in this argument.”

“It’s his house.”

“But not him.”

“You’re just upset that he abandoned you,” Icy said, smirking; the crowd watched, its breath held collectively. “Some friend he is, right? Leaving you two here all alone to clean up his mess.”

“Leave him out of this,” Lotus growled. “Please.”

“Are you upset?”

“Very.”

“Then you know how I feel.”

“My reasons are less selfish.”

“Selfish? You want to call it quits out of disillusionment! You should be upset at him, not me.”

“I said leave him out of this.”

“Or what? I’m an eminent architect. You’re just a servant.”

He smiled wide, and in that moment, it was as though they could hear the snap inside Lotus. In a single, fast instant, her body was alive and electric with movement, and she closed the distance—five or six feet—between herself and Icy in the space of a second. Her hooves seemed to glide across the ground, one raised in a sharp and perilous angle that curved swiftly aside to strike him directly and firmly across the face with a dull, crowd-silencing thock.

He stepped back, eyes and mouth wide in shock, and held a hoof to his face. “You… you nag!”

Lotus only looked at him, her breathing heavy, and stepped back. Her face had lost its anger, and in its place, she looked embarrassed and afraid. Aloe came to her side and draped a hoof over her back, whispering in her ear.

“I apologize… I… do not know what came over me,” she said weakly, backing out of the circle of ponies that had formed around them. They gave her a wide berth, and Icy advanced, expression livid.

“You have no right to treat me this way! No right! You all saw it! Completely unwarranted!”

Lotus only backed away faster, looking down and mumbling apologies as she went. He tried to go after her, but Aloe looked back at him, and he stopped, still angry.

“You come back here and apologize this instant! I’ll have your job! I know ponies—you’ll see! You can’t treat me this way!”

They didn’t turn back, and instead ran, Aloe after Lotus, down Windmill Road and out of sight.

Icy stood, erect and incensed, until they were gone from view, and then turned on the crowd. “Fine,” he said bitterly. “Fine! If everyone’s so determined to give up, I suppose I have no choice but to let you.” He turned and walked away, hesitatingly at first, as if waiting for someone to stop him; when no one did, he moved faster, until he, too, was out of sight, muttering.

Lemon Hearts broke the silence. “So, I guess we’re done for the day?”

There were general murmurs of approval at this, and the group slowly dispersed. Twilight looked over at Colgate, who stood nearby, her face frozen in distress.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked.

She snapped her eyes to her, quick and intense, and Twilight almost backed away at the expression that lingered—for just an instant—in them. Hard, cold, and full of anger: monster’s eyes. They dulled back. “I don’t like conflict like that.”

“But are—”

“Fine.” She closed her eyes, and her voice softened. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just concerned. But I’ll be okay.” She gave Twilight a smile, and Twilight returned it; this time, it was she who felt insincere.

The Cakes were already gone, and Big Macintosh joined them as they headed back south.

“That… was… awesome!” Rainbow exclaimed.

“I never knew Lotus could do such a thing,” Fluttershy said.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry for him.”

“Maybe a little. But he was being really mean.”

“Can you believe how fast she moved?” Pinkie cried. “I mean, one minute she was over there, and then she was like ‘zoom!’ and then she had him! I’ve never seen any pony move that fast, not even Rainbow Dash!”

“You know, Pinks, normally I’d disagree, but that was pretty intense,” Rainbow said.

“Have you ever seen her move like that?” Twilight asked.

“Never, not once,” Rarity said. “She’s always moved at a very normal speed. And she’s never hit someone before.”

“There was some strength in that hit, too,” Applejack said. “Not what Ah’d’ve expected from her.”

“What do you think, Big Mac?” Rainbow asked.

He shrugged his large shoulders. “Ah reckon he got what he needed.”

They walked back to the library, talking over the incident; by their arrival, they had agreed that it was a very strange occurrence, but, after so much else, nothing serious.

“So now that we got the day off, what’re we gonna do?” Applejack asked.

“We should figure out what we need to bring with us to Canterlot,” Twilight said.

“Oh, right. We’re leavin’.”

“Yes. I’d like to leave by tomorrow, or the morning after at the latest. Any objections?”

They all shook their heads.

“Spike! Where are you?”

“Coming!” he called from upstairs; his voice was soon followed by the sound of his descending footfalls.

“Spike, I need you to help us pack.”

“Pack? Wh—but I thought you had more time here!”

“Don’t worry, Spike, we’re not leaving today.”

He looked at her sullenly.

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

There was a moment while he digested her words unhappily, and she thought he might cry, or object, but he perked up. “Guess we better get busy, then!”

“That’s the spirit! Take a scroll and write down everything I say.”

He got a scroll and quill and stood, poised for Twilight’s list of materials. While she listed them off to him, the others thought similarly. What would they need? For Fluttershy and Rarity, the question was easy; they had lost everything already, and had nothing to bring. For the others, it was more of a challenge. Money, supplies, clothes, food: all things to consider, but difficult, with no concept of how long they would be gone. Would they be able to find things in the other towns? How much time would they spend in each one? Twilight appeared to consider these things as well, taking nearly an hour to finish her list, after which she went over it with Spike.

Rainbow watched them look over his scroll with bored eyes. They both appeared to be relishing the experience, and she didn’t have the heart to interrupt it. It was their last list, and, though it was excruciating for her, she could tell they were relishing the experience.

“What are you bringing, Rainbow?” Rarity asked.

“I don’t think I’ll need much of anything,” she said; as she said it, a twinge of doubt went through her mind. “Really? Nothing?” “I can always find clouds to sleep on, and I don’t have anything else that I really need.”

“Well, that’ll be helpful, I’m sure. Me, I need to figure out what to do with Opalescence, and… that’s about it, actually. Sweetie Belle will be fine on the farm, I’m sure.” She sighed. “I still can’t believe it’s gone.”

“Oh, Rarity, it’ll be okay,” Fluttershy said.

“I know, Fluttershy. It’s just weird. To think that when we return, I won’t have a boutique to go to anymore.”

“Oh, but surely they’ll rebuild it by the time we get back.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. This isn’t a simple case of reassembling all the pieces, like Doctor Whooves’ house.”

“Coward,” Rainbow murmured.

“My boutique is actually gone. Fallen off the face of Equestria.” She sighed weakly and sat down, and Fluttershy put a comforting hoof on her back. They shared a smile, and like that, the thought had passed.

“So what’re we gonna do after we’re done packin’?” Applejack asked.

“We’re going to get some lunch, that’s what,” Rainbow said.

“Oh, that sounds divine,” Rarity said. She looked over her fur and tail, disgust mounting on her face. “And we really should go down to the river again. The perfume from that chapel is stuck to my fur.”

They talked quietly, and when Twilight finished reviewing her list, they all went out to lunch; Spike joined them, to Rarity’s surprise and discomfort, but there was no trouble. Afterwards, Rarity convinced them all to take a detour to the river, to bathe again. When they returned home, the sun was on its way down, and Twilight decided to close the day with a letter to the princess.

Dear Princess Celestia,

You’ll be happy to hear that we have managed to return Ponyville mostly to normal, though there is still a lot that needs to be done. One of our friends died in the events of that night, and we’re attending her funeral tomorrow. Additionally, we’ve been helping some of the citizens rebuild their homes and businesses, but there will be much to do after we leave; I expect Ponyville won’t return entirely to normal in a very long time, unfortunately.

I am well; my friends managed to cure me before I succumbed to the infection, though it was a close call. We will be on our way to Canterlot either tomorrow or the day after. I want to discuss some things with you, things I don’t feel safe putting in this letter.

Until then,
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle

She reread her letter, and, satisfied, rolled it up and enveloped it in her newly-learned spell, sending it to Celestia. It curled and blackened, became brittle, and sloughed off into the air around it, little squares and triangles of ash dissolving amidst the magenta aura that seemed to seep into it. It was gone, and the magic faded; she felt no fatigue, and smiled. A very easy spell, and almost as elegant as Spike’s method. Spike watched with interest and, Twilight thought, a little horror. He didn’t comment.

She curled up on the couch and watched the empty room. The others had gone either to her room, the kitchen, or, in Pinkie’s case, back out the door. Applejack plodded down the stairs, and they met eyes; Applejack gave her a smile, and she returned it easily, uncertainly.

“Ah was just visitin’ with Opalescence,” she said.

“I didn’t know you liked cats.”

“Ah don’t usually. But, tonight, Ah guess Ah do.”

Twilight understood. It was the night before departure; of course everyone was going to be a little off. “Uh, I was thinking about our travel situation,” she said, looking away self-consciously at breaking the silence with such banality. “Since we have an airship, we don’t need to worry much about packing too lightly.”

“That sounds good to me. What are we bringin’, anyway?”

“Well, food and water of course, as well as sleeping bags and tools to repair the ship, in case it gets damaged.”

“What else?”

“Maps, first-aid, books and writing tools. That’s all I could think of, in general.”

“Why would we need books?”

“I’m bringing the Encyclopedia of Equestria with me,” Twilight said defensively.

Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“It’s only six volumes. Plus, I’m bringing a book of basic survival spells and one on airship maintenance.”

“Those last two Ah understand, but really, Twilight? An encyclopedia?”

“We don’t know what we’ll be facing out there, Applejack.”

She rolled her eyes at the unicorn. “What ‘bout money?”

“Oh, that too. I’m bringing some of my bits, and Rainbow’s bringing all of hers. That only gives us about a hundred and fifty, though.”

“That’s it? Twi, that’s not gonna be near enough.”

“I know,” Twilight said unhappily.

“Well, what ‘bout Rarity? She’s richer’n all of us.”

“She kept all her bits in the boutique.”

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence, and Applejack coughed. “What ‘bout Celestia? Can’t you ask her for some?”

Twilight started. “Ask the princess for money? I couldn’t!”

“Twilight, she probably has thousands of bits that she ain’t usin’. Why not ask her?”

“I can’t ask my princess and mentor for that, Applejack.”

“Fine. Ah’ll ask her.”

“No! I mean, Applejack, shouldn’t we think this through?”

“Twi, how long’re we gonna be travelin’?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think ‘bout it. Do yer calculations or whatever you do, an’ tell me how long you think we’ll be.”

Twilight thought for some time. “Half a year, maybe.”

“Yeah, that’s a long time. Unless you got an idea on how to stretch a hundred an’ fifty bits to half a year, Ah think Celestia’s our best option.”

“It just doesn’t feel right.”

“It feels fine to me,” Applejack said. “Ah ain’t afraid.”

“I know,” Twilight said ruefully.

“She’s yer teacher an’ friend, Twilight. You can ask her fer a little financial assistance every now an’ again.”

“What about you?”

“Ah don’t got any money of my own hardly. We pool it fer things like maintenance an’ supplies, water, what little electricity we have—stuff like that. An’ no, Ah can’t take money out of the farm budget.”

“Oh, no, I would never suggest that. They need it just as badly as us,” Twilight said. She frowned in thought. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but how much do you make, anyway? I’ve always wondered.”

“Yer askin’ the wrong mare, Twi. Big Mac handles all our finances. All Ah know is we’re gettin’ by.”

“Do you think you’ll survive this?”

Applejack sighed. “Oh, Celestia, you have no idea how much that question’s been worryin’ me. Ah sorely hope so.”

“I’m sure the apples will all survive.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t much of an issue. The thing that really has me worried is—”

“Rarity being so obsessive about these dresses!” Rainbow shouted, coming down the stairs in a flurry of color and noise.

Applejack and Twilight abruptly stopped speaking to look at her.

“Applejack, don’t you think Rarity’s being too uptight about our dresses? I mean, they hardly got worn at all today, and she wants to spend all night working on them again!”

“Rainbow, we were kinda in the middle of somethin’ here,” Applejack said testily.

“Yeah, yeah. Twilight, what do you think?”

“Just leave Rarity be, Rainbow,” Twilight said.

“She’s got poor Fluttershy up there helping her out.”

“Fluttershy likes to help Rarity,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… so… boring!”

“Boring? That’s no good!” Pinkie shrieked as she bounced into Twilight’s line of sight. She hadn’t heard her enter, but now, chest heaving on the carpet, she was covered in flour and dough.

“Pinkie, don’t you think Rarity’s being unreasonable?” Rainbow asked, desperate for some support on her complaint.

“I dunno Dashie, is she?”

“Absolutely!”

“Then yeah, she is being unreasonable! That Rarity and her unreasoning unreasonableness! Oh, she’s just so… unreasonable! Why’s she unreasonable?”

“She’s insisting she redo all our dresses for tomorrow, and she’s keeping the whole room up there cluttered with her supplies! She said she’ll be at least three more hours, and I’m already starting to get tired.”

“You’re tired, Dashie? I’m not!”

“Yer never tired, Pinkie,” Applejack said.

“How can I be when tomorrow’s almost here?”

“What’s so great ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Oh, nothing! See you guys later!” She trotted downstairs to the basement.

“Is… is she sleepin’ down there?”

“I guess,” Twilight said, giving a bored shrug that Applejack mirrored. “Now that you mention it, I’m getting pretty tired too. I’m sure Rarity won’t mind if I take the couch tonight.”

“Didn’t you hear me? She’s gonna be up in your room until midnight working on our dresses,” Rainbow said.

“Just leave her, Rainbow,” Applejack said.

“I’d like to, but I want to have a place to sleep.”

“You’ve been fine out here,” Twilight said.

“Twilight, you have no idea how comfortable your bed is after you’ve been sleeping on top of a bookshelf for the past week. I can’t go back to that.”

“We’ve only spent three nights here.”

“And it’s been enough. My wings cramp up when I sleep like that.”

“I’m sorry, Rainbow, but I don’t know what to tell you. Ooh,” Twilight felt a twinge in her skull, at the base of her horn: a letter was coming. A moment later, her horn lit up and a scroll materialized before her. She read it quickly and let it drop onto the floor.

“What did it say?” Applejack asked.

“Not a whole lot. She said she wants to speak with us too, and that she’s happy that everything is okay here.”

“That’s it?” Rainbow said.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“That’s not much of a reply.”

“She’s busy. You heard what she said; she has to keep track of Discord, and try to keep Equestria under control, and try to keep relations with the neighboring countries. That’s a lot of work for one princess,” Twilight said.

“What d’ya think Discord’s up to right now, anyway?” Applejack thought aloud.

“Regrouping, probably,” Rainbow said.

“Do ya think so?”

“Kind of. I dunno, I think we got him pretty good in Canterlot. He probably won’t be back for a while.”

They whiled away the rest of their waking time speaking about Discord, speculating what he might be doing, where he might have gone, and what they were going to do about him if—more likely when—they ran into him again. Sleep came late.