The trip back to the airship was slow; Twilight had nearly passed out from her spell, and Rainbow had to help float her to the ground while the others took the stairs. She and Applejack carried Twilight into the ship, but the swarms of celebrating pegasi were too thick above them to take off. At first, they tried to wait it out, but when an hour had passed, and the sky was still active, lit with torches and, in some places, jostling with improvised parties, they decided to sleep where they had landed. Twilight was already snoring lightly in her sleeping bag, and the others clustered around her. None of them had seen Peppermint since the roof.

When the sun rose the next day, Applejack was the first to wake. At first, she didn’t remember where she was, but the sight of the torch, followed by the blank, stucco façades of Lower Canterlot reminded her. When everyone was awake, they took off, happy to be out of the streets. A few ponies had walked by their ship while they were eating breakfast, looking at them strangely as they went on their ways.

When they were in the air, they all crowded around the front of the ship to look at Pinkie’s work. She had done a good job; the section of Canterlot over which they hung had been re-affixed to the mountain flawlessly, its pieces brought together in a busy crescent of low, dull buildings and furrowed streets. There was still a great amount of wreckage; everywhere they looked, ponies were picking through piles of building materials, pushing carts or cars out of the way, or sweeping street corners. Some were painting their buildings, while others hauled large pieces of rubble—tables, slabs of floor and wall, toilets—down the roads like multicolored ants. As it was in Ponyville, so it was in Canterlot. The spell had passed, and work was beginning.

“Amazing,” Twilight said. “Pinkie, you did a great job.”

“Thanks, Twilight! How ya feeling?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“You ready to go on up to the palace, Twi?” Applejack asked.

“Actually, if it’s not too much trouble, I was thinking we could visit my parents. They’re probably worried sick about me.”

Applejack’s tone was immediately sympathetic. “Sure, sugarcube. We can do that. Where are they?”

“Down there, somewhere,” Twilight said, pointing at a large swath of dull gray houses, separated from the rest of the buildings only by a thin curve of street.

“Somewhere? You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“When we get closer, I can lead us. It’s been a while, but I think I remember the way.”

“Twilight, what are your parents like? I’m oh so curious about them,” Rarity said. Twilight smiled, remembering them. “They’re a little old-fashioned, but I think you’d like them, Rarity. They’re both really nice. My dad is friendly, and really smart.” She giggled a little. “I know you girls think I’m smart, but he’s always been way smarter than me. He first got me interested in studying and reading.”

“So he’s an even bigger egghead than you,” Rainbow said.

“As a matter of fact, Rainbow, yes, he is. And my mom is really fun, and very outgoing. More like Pinkie than anyone, now that I think about it.”

“They both sound delightful,” Rarity said.

“Yeah.” Twilight sobered. “I just hope they’re okay.”

“Oh, Twi, don’t worry,” Applejack said. “If yer father’s as smart as you said he is, Ah’m sure they’re both fine.”

“You’re probably right, Applejack.” She walked to the middle of the ship. “Pinkie, would you mind getting us going?”

“Okey-dokey-lokey!” She raced downstairs, and the ship rumbled to life.

They slowly floated over the top of a road toward the curve of buildings that Twilight had indicated. Ponies, mostly unicorns, worked underneath them, clearing black blocks of asphalt from a sinister ridge that ran along the street’s center. Though Pinkie’s spell had brought the ground back together, it did nothing for the pavement, now creased inexpertly like folds in a ribbon.

“Twilight, are there places fer us to park this thing?” Applejack asked. “Ah don’t think it’s a great idea to be floatin’ it everywhere.”

“Airships are actually a very common mode of transport,” Twilight said. “Most cities have places to leave them, usually by places like hotels, or tourist attractions. Not that there’s much of that in Lower Canterlot.”

“Why not walk everywhere?” Pinkie asked, doing a little jig in place. “You know, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four!”

“I’ll fly, thanks,” Rainbow said from across the ship.

Pinkie laughed. “That’s just a one-two, Dashie!” She ran over to Rainbow, and Twilight turned back, looking out over the ship’s front. She had Applejack angle them slightly to the side.

They were over a block of shops and strip malls, all of which were shaken and, in some places, collapsed, but Twilight could still see the rigid border between it and the residential area. Large collections of colorful rubble and multistory slides of destruction, interspersed with the occasional huge, proud survivor, became smaller, more tightly packed quadrangles of gray and taupe ruins, undifferentiated save by the gradation of destroyed to damaged to miraculously whole. Twilight tried to remember the area, but it was difficult, with so much wreckage. A thin, silver line threaded through it all to climb up the mountain: the train tracks that led up to Greater Canterlot. From their distance, the palace looked completely fine, and the small city around it, relatively unharmed. The aristocracy had survived.

“Canterlot must not have a very sound structure,” Rarity said. “This looks much worse than Ponyville.”

“That’s just Lower Canterlot,” Twilight said. “This is all suburb, remember.”

“What? That shouldn’t mean that Princess Celestia could skimp on stable foundations.”

“No one expects an earthquake here, Rarity. There’s never been one, that I know of.” She thought. “Although they do have better foundations in Greater Canterlot.”

“Bunch of frou-frou aristocrats, too good to live like the rest of us,” Applejack said.

“They’re not all bad,” Rarity said.

“Twi, where are we goin’?”

“Oh, um…” She looked around; with the neighborhoods in such disarray, it was difficult to tell where anything was. Almost all the houses were damaged, and while few had been completely destroyed, most were missing a wall or two, or sagging under a collapsed roof. “What if they’re not okay?” she wondered. “What if they didn’t survive the damage?” “It’s a little past the train tracks,” she said absentmindedly.

“Worried again?” Applejack asked.

“I just hope they’re okay.”

Applejack nodded, but didn’t press the topic, for which Twilight was grateful. Thinking about her parents led her to think about the damage, which led to the battle, which led—as it always did—to the balcony. “Why can’t I stop thinking about it?”

“Okay, we’re past the train tracks,” Applejack said, and Twilight looked around, scanning the ground for a familiar landmark.

“Anythin’, Twi?”

“Give me a second.” She tried to remember something distinctive about the house, and in her mind, slowly, there emerged an image of the back yard, and the view of the skyline it offered. She remembered looking at the palace from the porch sometimes, aspiring. In her memory, there was a tall, narrow tree between her and the mountain. “Pinkie, slow us down. Everypony else, look for a tall, narrow tree with… long, droopy leaves, I think. It sat between my house and the mountain.”

“Twilight, there are tons of trees here. Can’t you be more specific?” Rainbow said.

“I don’t remember anything else,” she said shortly.

“I thought you said you could guide us when you got close.”

“I thought I could,” she said through a clenched jaw; Rainbow’s complaints were getting to her, and she had to close her eyes.

“It’s not like we’re wasting daylight or anything,” Rainbow grumbled, and Twilight turned to her angrily. In her mind, she was shouting—screaming at Rainbow, telling her to be quiet, to leave her alone. It was just a simple oversight. Rainbow met her eyes, and Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but a look of worry passed over the pegasus’ face, and she looked away.

Twilight looked back down at the ground. “Celestia, what is wrong with me?”

“Is that it, Twilight?” Applejack asked, pointing at a small, green thread amid the brown and gray. A house with a sagging, splintered porch sat just before it, a red trail of bricks at its side where the chimney had collapsed. The house looked okay, though.

No pleasure surged through her heart. “That’s it. Land us.”

They descended slowly, and Twilight kept her eyes on the house. Her old house. The roof had lost some of its shingles, but still sat where it was supposed to; the windows were boarded and taped up with ugly plastic; the little fence outside leaned out like a distended jaw. They landed in the middle of a cul-de-sac, where the house sat at the top of a very small, very gentle hill.

“Here. Right here,” Twilight said to no one in particular, and they got out. They trotted quietly to the front door, but a voice stopped them.

“Hey? What do you think you’re doing?” A stocky, light blue pony stood on the front step of the neighboring house, also mostly unharmed, and looking at them suspiciously.

Twilight looked back angrily, but, recognizing her, smiled a little. “Beauty? Is that you?”

“How do you… Twilight?” She immediately dropped her suspicious expression and hurried over to greet them. “I haven’t seen you for a good long time now, little Twilight Sparkle. It’s been, what? Two years, at least. How are you?”

“Um, okay.” “Not that okay.” “We were just coming to check up on my parents. Are… they okay?”

“Absolutely fine, both of them. A little shaken up. They’re worried sick about you, Twilight.”

“Are they here now?”

“No, they left an hour ago for the train station. Probably on their way to see you. Where do you live now?”

“Ponyville.”

“Ah, yes. I have a few friends in Ponyville.”

“How long does it take to get to the train station from here, Twilight?” Applejack asked.

“I’m sure they’re there by now,” Twilight said. “We should hurry before they come back.”

“Why would they do that?” Beauty asked.

“The train’s aren’t connecting to Ponyville,” Rarity said.

“Wait. Celestia said something about that.” Beauty thought for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. Canterlot isn’t the only city that got this… whatever it is.”

“All of Equestria,” Applejack said.

“Geez. That’s insane.”

“Yes, it is,” Twilight said quickly, looking around. “Well, it’s been great seeing you again, but we really need to get moving.”

“Of course. I won’t keep you. It was good seeing you again, Twilight.”

“Yes, you too.”

They returned to the ship and took off, heading for the train station—it was only a couple miles away, and just a few minutes on the ship.

“Who was that, Twilight?” Rainbow asked. She sounded hesitant.

“That’s Beauty Brass, my parents’ neighbor. She used to have us over for dinner sometimes.”

“She seems really nice,” Fluttershy said.

“I always liked her.”

“She looked familiar,” Rainbow said.

Twilight took a deep breath. She was relieved that her parents were okay, but still bothered from before. She forced a pleasant smile. “I think she was playing at last year’s Grand Galloping Gala. The sousaphone, if I’m not mistaken.”

“How coincidental,” Rarity said.

“How’s that coincidental?” Applejack asked.

“I was just thinking about the Gala.”

“Yeah, I’d prefer to forget about it,” Rainbow said.

“It was fun at the end,” Fluttershy said.

“It was fun the whole way through!” Pinkie said.

“Pinkie, we’re gettin’ close to the train station,” Applejack said, and Pinkie ran down and turned off the engine.

“I’m just glad the princess was so forgiving of all the trouble we caused,” Twilight said.

“Forgivin’? She wanted us to stir things up a little. Ah’m glad we could help her out so much.”

“Yes indeed. I’m just ashamed that I wasted my time on that nephew of hers,” Rarity said bitterly.

“At least you didn’t do somethin’ you’d regret later on,” Rainbow said.

“I suppose so.”

Twilight looked down at the station. Tight clusters of tracks were twisted and bunched up near the train yard, and the colossal corpses of the colorful engines and cars lay to the side, abandoned. The station itself was cordoned off in several places where it had collapsed, and the glass was gone from the roof, leaving only a skeletal network of black crossbeams. There were few sounds: ponies walking inside on the tiled floors, talking, rolling or dragging bags and suitcases along. No train whistles.

They got out in an empty, brown lot next to the train yard, partially guarded by a snarled chain-link fence and strewn with debris. “What a depressing little field,” Rarity said, looking disparagingly at a cluster of dried weeds.

“Hey, what do you think this means?” Pinkie said, indicating a twisted square of sheet metal, half-buried in the ground. On its surface, Twilight made out a gray sentence, spray painted on and speckled with dirt. The colors were so close that she almost couldn’t read it.

“Thunder is in my mind. My eyes close. I shudder,” Rarity read, and shrugged.

“Doesn’t sound like anythin’,” Applejack said.

“Sounds like delinquent’s attempt at sounding mysterious.”

“Thunder in my mind? That’s gotta be loud!” Pinkie said.

“Pinkie, it’s not literal,” Rainbow said.

Pinkie only giggled, and they turned away. It was a short walk out of the field and along the side of the main terminal building, and then they were inside. There were few ponies within, and they all walked around with the same dazed, uncertain expression that made Twilight feel like she had walked in on something she was not supposed to. No one looked comfortable, and the single pony at the ticket counter watched passively, unattended.

It didn’t take long for her to spot her parents, walking the opposite direction, toward an exit. She ran after them, calling out.

They turned, momentarily perplexed, and then ran to meet her. “Twilight! Oh Celestia, you’re here!” her mother cried, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “We were so worried about you, and the trains wouldn’t take us to Ponyville to see you! Can you imagine that? They’re not working anywhere!”

“We’re so glad you’re safe,” her father said, taking his wife’s place in the hug.

“I’m just glad you two are okay,” Twilight said.

“We’re both fine, dear,” her mother said.

“How did you find us?” her father asked.

“I went to the house first. Beauty Brass was out there, and she told me,” Twilight said.

“Oh, how nice of her.”

“But what are you doing in Canterlot, Twilight?” her mother asked.

“We, er, have some business here. Here and other places,” Twilight said.

“We? Oh, are these your friends?” her father asked, noticing the five ponies walking over.

“Yes. Mother, father, this is Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy. They’re my friends from Ponyville.”

“A pleasure to meet you all. Twilight’s told us all about you in her letters, of course, but we’re absolutely charmed to meet you in person,” her father said. “I am Night Light, and this is my wife, Twilight Velvet.”

“The pleasure is all ours, I can assure you,” Rarity said, batting her lashes at them.

“So, what sort of ‘business’ brings you all to Canterlot?” Twilight Velvet asked.

“Oh! Twilight, can I tell it? Please, let me tell it!” Pinkie begged.

“Go ahead Pinkie,” Twilight said.

“Yesyesyes!” She stood up on her hind legs to flourish her hooves. “So, it all started late at night, about a week ago.”

Rarity sighed inwardly at the prospect of standing idly while Pinkie took Twilight’s parents through the entire experience. As she spoke, the two listeners gasping in all the right places, her mind began to wander. She looked away and, tuning out Pinkie’s monologue, pony-watched, noting each pony’s style of dress with either approval or distaste. For those she disliked, she would think of the best way to improve their outfits without straying too far from the style they appeared to like; for her, it was a fun game, but had little challenge to it, and she was soon bored of it with so few subjects.

Her eyes roved across the sparse crowd, looking for somepony she hadn’t already assessed. There were ponies of all shapes and sizes, but she was surprised in seeing the lack of fancy dress she always associated with Canterlot ponies. “This isn’t the mountaintop, though,” she reminded herself. “These are the suburbs. You can’t expect to find high class here.”

She looked around, uninterested, and almost jumped at the sight of one mare walking purposefully through the crowd. “Light gray coat, dark gray mane, purple eyes,” she thought excitedly. She craned her neck to get a look at her cutie mark: an elegant, purple treble clef. “Oh Celestia, it’s her,” she thought frantically. Octavia Melody, renowned cellist and one of Rarity’s favorite musicians; it was her music that Rarity listened to when she needed to unwind after a hard day, or just fall asleep a little easier.

She excused herself form the circle of friends and trotted after Octavia, fighting her own nervous thoughts and palpitating heart. “Relax, Rarity. She’s just another pony, like you. You have no reason to be afraid.” As she got closer, and her view of Octavia became clearer, her pulse only quickened, and the butterflies flurried violently in her stomach. She cleared her throat nervously and called out weakly, then with more strength. “Miss! Miss Melody!”

Octavia turned curtly and looked for who had called her name. Rarity approached and stared. She was shorter than Rarity had expected, but her countenance was precisely how she had imagined: perfect posture, uninterested eyes, straight face, set chin, mane and tail combed perfectly. “May I help you?” Her voice was liquid and feminine, higher than her dull colors and hard mien suggested, and Rarity almost fainted there.

“Oh, Celestia, I’m doing it! I’m talking to her!” “H-hello. Um, I just wanted to, uh, say what a big fan I am of your—your work.” She put on her most charming smile, internally withering at her self-conscious fear.

Octavia bowed slightly and smiled: a polite smile that did not reach her eyes. “Thank you very much. I am always happy to meet a fan.”

“Y-yes. Oh, um, I’m Rarity, by the way,” she said, extending a hoof.

Octavia shook it, and Rarity’s thoughts exploded in a flurry of inarticulate cheers. “Rarity?” She scrutinized her for a moment, her light purple eyes boring into her, freezing her where she stood. “Ah, that is it. You are the fashion designer from Ponyville.”

“I am! Um, I mean, yes, I am. You’re familiar with my work?”

“Yes. My ensemble wore your outfits last month.”

Rarity thought back, and quickly remembered. She had been excited then, and stayed up all night, making absolutely certain that their outfits, and Octavia’s in particular, were perfect. “Y-yes, I remember now. I trust they were, um, satisfactory?” “Satisfactory. Wonderful, Rarity.”

Octavia only nodded solemnly. “Yes. They were very nice. I confess that I am a bit of a fan myself.”

“Octavia Melody is a fan of my outfits!” her mind repeated. “That’s, that’s lovely,” Rarity said, shocked. She tried to think of more to say, but all her repository of small talk seemed dissolved under Octavia’s hard gaze. “Um, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, uh, what are you doing here? I thought you lived on the mountaintop. Um, with the aristocracy.”

“No. I have an apartment in Lower Canterlot, but I do not spend a lot of time there. I am only staying here for a concert that I was supposed to attend, but, well, I am sure you know. Now, I am trying to find a way home, but the trains are not running cross-country.”

“You’re stuck here?”

“Yes.”

“That’s awful.”

“It could be worse. The circumstances are quite strange, though. I am sure that you have heard this from everypony else, but… the world. Just falling apart like it has. I still have no idea what to think.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m having a conversation with Octavia!” “It is, very strange.” “Excellent contribution, darling.”

“And then, when everypony is getting used to things, the world knits itself back together.” She shook her head with frustration. “Forgive me. I should not bore you with my own petty insights into the situation.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve seen enough of it on my own.”

“Oh?”

“I came from Ponyville myself. Me and my friends, on an airship. It used to be like that there too.”

“Used to be?”

“My friends and I are the ones who cast the repair spell on Canterlot. We did the same in Ponyville.”

Octavia raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony? Princess Celestia said you would come, but she did not say when, nor did she identify you.”

“Yes, well, we’re here now,” Rarity said, a hint of pride in her voice.

“Fascinating. I never would have expected to speak to one of you.” She hesitated a moment. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.” She paused. “Er, but I don’t think we should be thanked quite yet. We still have the rest of Canterlot to repair, and all of Equestria after that.”

“You are traveling, then?”

“Yes indeed. The whole country.”

“Equestria is a big place,” Octavia said.

“That it is. But, I’m sure we’ll manage.”

Octavia nodded and looked past her, her eyes narrowed slightly. Her eyebrows twitched, and Rarity watched, fascinated. She looked to have slipped deep in thought.

“Are you okay, dear?”

“I…” She looked at Rarity. “I… feel very foolish asking this. But I think I shall. Do you need a guide?” She sounded nervous.

“A guide?”

“I have traveled all around Equestria.” The hint of emotion in her voice was gone, replaced with the distant professionalism with which she had conversed earlier. “I can direct you to wherever you want to go, and tell you about the towns and cities you visit. I can point out hotels and restaurants, or other places of interest. I am sure that you have a map, but a drawing of the land can only get you so far.”

Rarity stared at her. “Is this really happening? It can’t be!” “I must say, Miss Melody, I’m very tempted, but… surely you can’t just leave your ensemble behind.”

“I do not have an ensemble, I am afraid. Not a permanent one, anyway. I work freelance. And… I think that I can afford to abandon that life for a while.”

“But—”

“I have nothing tethering me,” Octavia said quietly. “I have no close friends, no real work obligations, no family, and I barely make enough money to support myself.”

“Oh. But I thought you were wealthy,” Rarity said, suddenly uncomfortable. Everything Octavia said, she said with a straightforward, firm tone, empty of feeling and warmth.

“I was, for a few months.”

“What happened?”

“I cannot say.”

Rarity paused. “Well, I’d have to ask the others, but I don’t really see a problem with you coming with us. I guess.”

“Take me to them.”

Rarity turned, her mind reeling. “Octavia Melody, asking to go with us on our adventure!” She was almost dizzy from excitement. The crowd around her turned into a hazy sea of colors and voices, and she looked for Twilight. She and the others, minus Pinkie, were still talking with Twilight’s parents. She approached them nervously.

“Hey, Rarity. You take care of whatever you needed to take care of?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, yes. Um, everypony, this is Octavia Melody,” she said, gesturing to the gray mare beside her.

They all greeted her politely, and Octavia responded with another small bow.

“She wanted to know if we needed a, um, guide, on our quest. She’s been all around Equestria, and can help us find places, or tell us about cities.”

Twilight looked at her for a long time. “Did Rarity tell you what exactly we’re doing?”

“She told me that you would be traveling all across Equestria, casting some spell of yours.”

“That’s the gist of it, I guess.”

“Did she tell you ‘bout the Elements? An’ Discord?” Applejack asked.

“No, though I know that Discord is involved. He is the one responsible for this in the first place, is he not?”

“Uh, yes, that’s right,” Twilight said; Applejack looked at her.

“What about the Elements of Harmony?” Octavia asked.

“We would use them to defeat him, but he scattered them. We have to collect them.”

“As well as undo what he did to Equestria,” Octavia said.

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” She thought for a minute, her face tensing in what appeared to be a great internal debate. When she spoke, her expression was neutral again. “My offer stands. If you will have me, I will go with you.”

“Are you sure? Ah mean, if you go with us, you’ll be leavin’ a lot of things behind. Friends, family, yer job,” Applejack said.

“I have neither friends nor family. As for my job… I make less money than I would like, especially now, since I have missed my performance.” She hesitated. “I was prepared to spend my last few bits on a train ticket home. I have very little to lose by going with you.”

“Your life,” Rainbow said, and Twilight gave her a dirty look.

“That is a valid concern,” Octavia said, and thought for another minute. Rarity was standing close enough to see the turmoil in her face, tight and thoughtful. “Like I said, I have very little to lose.”

“Well, um, sure. If you’re comfortable taking that risk, you can come along with us,” Twilight said, giving her a smile.

Rarity’s mind did a backflip, and Octavia gave another polite, fake smile. “Thank you.”

They were quiet for a second, and Twilight’s mother spoke up. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!”

They all laughed, except Octavia.

After saying goodbye to Twilight’s parents half an hour later, they walked back to the empty field and the airship within. “Where’s Pinkie, by the way?” Rarity asked.

“Who?” Octavia asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

“She went back to the ship fer somethin’,” Applejack said.

“Wait wait wait, who is back here?” Octavia asked as they walked up the plank.

Pinkie raced into view. “Hey girls! How’s—” She stopped and stared at the mare behind them.

“No. No, no, no, no!” Octavia shouted, backing up and bumping against the rail.

“Tavi! I can’t believe it!” Pinkie rushed over and hugged Octavia, squeezing her tightly while the others watched, shocked.

Octavia struggled. “Let me go! Let me go, you crazy pony!”

“Pinkie, what the hay are you doing?” Rainbow said.

“You don’t know?” Pinkie asked, still holding onto Octavia.

“Pinkamena, shut up!” Octavia growled, forcing her away.

“Pinkamena?” Applejack echoed.

“Tavi here is my sister!” Pinkie said happily.

Silence.

“N-no, I am not,” Octavia said. “I have no idea what you are talking about, you crazy, pink pony.”

“Don’t play this game with me, Tavi,” Pinkie said, and Octavia narrowed her eyes and lowered her stance, as though ready to fight.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, everypony,” Applejack said, stepping between them. “Let’s just stop right here and simmer down.”

“How dare you?” Octavia growled at Pinkie, who looked at her innocently.

“They have the right to know, Tavi,” she said.

“Do not call me that. My name is Octavia, not Tavi.”

“But, it’s not! It’s—”

“No! I am aware of that, but you will not mention it here.” She looked Pinkie in the eyes, and they approached one another slowly, Octavia angry, Pinkie only confused. “It appears that we have much to discuss,” Octavia said at last, and Pinkie nodded. “In private.”

“We can go in the engine room,” Pinkie said, and they disappeared below the deck.

When they were gone, there was a moment of stunned silence, then Applejack spoke. “What the hay was that?”

“It looks like those two have a past together,” Twilight said. “Rainbow, get away from there.”

Rainbow walked away from the trapdoor with a little blush.

“We shouldn’t be eaves dropping on them,” Rarity said. “Clearly there’s something between those two, and they need to work it out in private.”

“Should we take off?” Fluttershy asked.

“No, I think we should wait. Just in case Octavia decides to leave.”

No one had anything more to say; in the wake of the sudden conflict, discussion seemed somehow disrespectful to Pinkie. Instead, they busied themselves quietly on the deck, reorganizing supplies, checking the torch, looking out at the field and train yard. Only once did they hear Octavia clearly, her furious voice carrying over the deck with a power that surprised them.

The conversation below persisted for an hour, and the tense silence above was only occasionally punctuated with Octavia’s voice, rising quickly and falling back into a fluid mumble. When they came out, everypony politely turned away and made to check the torch, the plank, and the strings holding the balloon.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Applejack said kindly. “Is everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said quietly. “Are we going now?”

“Yeah, if you’re ready.”

Pinkie turned on the torch, then the engine; she didn’t come back up.

Rainbow was the first to speak, walking up to Octavia and looking at her closely. “So, what was that all about?”

“It is not your concern,” Octavia said flatly.

“Pinkie’s our friend. It is our concern if you’re making her hole up under us. What did you do?”

“It is not what I did; it is what she did to herself.”

“That’s bull!” Rainbow said hotly.

“Pinkie said you were sisters. Is that true?” Twilight asked.

“Yes,” Octavia said blankly.

“So what gives then? You were at each other’s throats like you were enemies,” Rainbow said.

“That is between us,” Octavia said coldly.

“Why don’t you want to tell us?” Twilight asked.

“I do not know any of you. Why should I trust you with anything that is personal?”

Twilight was silent. The mare’s unapologetic bluntness left her with no ready responses.

“I still will go with you, if you will have me,” Octavia said. She threw an apathetic look to the hatch behind them. “I do not think that she and I will be holding you up with our problems again. I apologize for the scene we made.”

“Octavia, I’m not certain if we should have you,” Rainbow said. “I mean, the first thing you do when you get on this ship is spend an hour arguing with one of our friends, and make her shut herself up. That’s not cool.”

“You really upset her,” Twilight said.

“I am well aware of how upset she is,” Octavia said.

“I don’t know. I don’t think we should have you around if you’re going to be doing that to Pinkie.”

Octavia looked her directly in the eyes. “I understand you concerns, Twilight. You should speak to Pinkamena before making any decisions, though.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” Twilight said, looking back at the hatch. With one last, perplexed look at Octavia, she went to the back of the ship and down into the engine room, where Pinkie lay in the corner in a pathetic bundle, face between her legs and sobbing into the floor.

Twilight approached cautiously. “Pinkie?”

“Oh, Twilight,” she said, and Twilight drew nearer. Pinkie’s mane and tail had gone totally straight, their usual luster lost.

“Pinkie, what happened?”

“She’s wrong, Twilight. She has to be.”

“I’m sure,” Twilight said, crouching down to meet her teary eyes. “What did she say?”

Pinkie only shook her head and sobbed harder.

“Come on, Pinkie. You can tell me.”

“No, I can’t. She made me Pinkie Promise not to tell anyone, including you girls.”

Twilight frowned, her impression of Octavia darkening further. “Why would she do that?”

“It’s personal, private stuff. We’re not supposed to tell anypony about it.”

“Can you tell me why she was so unhappy to see you?”

“Sorry, Twilight. I really wish I could.”

“But you promised, right?”

She nodded.

“Is there anything you didn’t promise to keep secret?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Pinkie, I don’t like this. We’ve only known Octavia for an hour, and she’s already done… this to you.” She paused. “I think we should leave her behind.”

Pinkie gasped and looked up; her face was a wreck, her fur soaked with tears and her eyes puffy and red. “No, Twilight!”

“What?”

“You have to let her come with us. She needs this, Twilight; she didn’t say it, but I know. I can tell.”

“I’m not bringing somepony along if they’re just going to upset you all the time,” Twilight said firmly.

“We’ll be fine, Twilight, I promise.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m just upset now because of what we discussed; if we keep going, we’ll be okay.”

“I don’t know, Pinkie.”

“It may not look like it, but this means a lot to her. A lot. I can tell. For you to kick her out now would be just about the meanest thing ever.”

“How can you tell?”

Pinkie gave a strained smile. “Because I know her.” Fresh tears leaked out of her eyes as she said it, and she put her head back down.

“I really don’t like this, Pinkie.”

Her words were muffled. “Trust me, Twilight. You trust me on my Pinkie Sense; trust me on this.” She looked back up with a weak smile. “Besides, if she stays with us, maybe she and I can overcome our differences.”

Twilight thought. It sounded like an excuse to her, but the earnest tone Pinkie took gave her pause. “Okay, Pinkie. I’ll keep her. But if she keeps upsetting you like this, I’m going to tell her to go away.”

“Thank you, Twilight. For her sake.”

Twilight looked down at her; she had never seen Pinkie so miserable. Before she could think better of herself, she was asking another question. “Why do you care so much? You two seem to hate each other.”

Pinkie sniffled loudly. “I know it’s hard to believe, but we don’t hate each other.” She forced a tiny giggle, which sounded more like a gag. “Sisters fight sometimes.”

“Do you want me to stay down here with you?”

“No, I’ll come on up in a second. I just…” She sniffed again and laid her head back down.

Twilight went back to the deck, where Octavia was standing by the torch, watching the hatch disinterestedly. “Okay, Octavia. I don’t know why, but Pinkie wants you to stay. So, you can come with us for now. But if you can’t get along with her, I’m going to let you go.”

“You are not my employer,” Octavia said. “But I understand your conditions, and accept them.” She walked to the edge and looked down, and Twilight followed. “Tell me more about what you are doing. Specifically.”

Twilight stayed behind her, uncomfortable. Octavia’s demeanor was so severe, she felt like she was talking to Celestia. She couldn’t help but speak with a respectful tone, even after her conversation with Pinkie. “I’ll… tell you what I can, but I have to admit we’re pretty in the dark on this whole thing too.”

“Very well. You all are from Ponyville, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Rarity said that you cast your spell there.”

“That was one of the first things we did.”

“Why are you doing this, and not the princesses? Surely they would have an easier time.”

Twilight hesitated. She had wondered the same thing. “The princesses are doing their best to help, but they have to worry about other things, like maintaining order in towns and along the Equestrian borders.”

“And track down Discord,” Rarity said, walking over to them.

“Yes, him,” Octavia said. “I am, of course, familiar with his name, though I know little about him.”

“He’s… it’s difficult to explain,” Twilight said. “He ruled Equestria before Princess Celestia was born. Back then, everything was basically anarchy.”

“You make it sound as though he has returned after a period of absence.”

“He did. They banished him with the Elements of Harmony, millennia ago. He returned only a few months ago, and we did the same. And now, he’s back again.”

“Your Elements of Harmony do not seem to be very effective.”

Rarity scoffed. “They were good enough for Nightmare Moon.”

“Why not Discord?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said.

“He’s smarter,” Rarity said.

“Smarter?” Octavia repeated.

“Nightmare Moon was just a possessed version of Princess Luna,” Twilight said. “Discord is more than a malevolent spirit. He’s very crafty.”

“And very old,” Rarity said. “Older than the princesses.”

“So it is reasonable to assume that he has a lot of experience with this kind of thing,” Octavia said.

“That’s what we were told to assume, yes,” Twilight said.

“But how does he keep escaping?”

“Personally, I think he had magical redundancies in place, in the event of his banishment,” Rarity said.

“That would make sense,” Twilight said.

“Interesting,” Octavia said. “So, what is his involvement here?”

“Well, he’s the one who cast the spell that did all… this to Equestria. And you know it’s our job to defeat him, using the Elements of Harmony.”

“Which he scattered.”

“Yes.”

“What of his magical redundancies?”

“Uh…”

“I should think that’s more Princess Celestia’s concern than ours,” Rarity said. “She knows so much more about magical theory, and Discord himself.”

“So you are just her warriors,” Octavia said. She seemed to detect Twilight’s bothered expression, and turned around to look at her, her eyebrow raised. No one said anything, and she continued. “Do you have any means of finding the Elements?”

“Yes, actually. We have a spell that will indicate if any are nearby,” Rarity said.

“And have you found any yet?”

“No.”

“I see.” Her voice lightened, only slightly. “Where were you when Discord did this?”

“We were here, actually,” Twilight said. “On the slopes of the mountain.”

Rainbow came over. “We were fighting.”

“Fighting? You?” Octavia smiled a little. “I am sorry, but that comes as a bit of a surprise.”

“Yes, well, it came as even more of a surprise to us,” Rarity said. “We were woken up in the middle of the night and called here. After a bit of… unpleasantness, Princess Celestia found us, showed us some spells, and set us loose on the battlefield.”

“That’s the cut-down version, of course,” Twilight said.

“But it seemed just as abrupt to us as I’m making it sound.”

“So you all were right there when it happened,” Octavia said.

“That’s right,” Rainbow said. “Right in the thick of it.”

“You are getting more and more interesting.” Octavia looked around. “Where are we going now?”

“The palace,” Twilight said. “We need to talk with Princess Celestia again.”

“And then we’re gonna cast our spell on the other side of the city,” Rainbow said. “Right, Twilight?”

“That’s right.”

“I look forward to seeing that,” Octavia said. “Is this your last night in Canterlot, then?”

“Unless we get held up,” Rarity said, and Twilight looked at her for a moment.

“So where will you go afterwards?”

“We haven’t thought about it that much, actually,” Twilight said.

“I would recommend that we go to Manehattan. It is very far from here, but it is the largest city in the northern half of Equestria. It would probably be good to fix it next.”

“It’s a port city, is it not?” Rarity asked.

“It is not by the ocean, but it is an island. It is in Starlight Lake.”

“How far is it?” Rainbow asked.

“I do not know the exact distance, but I would estimate it at six or seven days by train. But I do not know how fast your airship is.”

“But you can point us there, right?”

“Yes.”

The engines’ rumbling died down, and the hatch creaked open; Pinkie slunk out onto the deck. Everyone, except Octavia, turned to look at her, and she gave them a feeble, forced smile. They were slowly rising up to the palace’s front, and Pinkie wordlessly turned off the torch. Applejack carefully brought them to the palace stairs, where they had landed the day before. In the daylight, the palace gleamed, the stairway a pristine slope of white coming off the cracked curve of the inner walls.

“Have you ever met Princess Celestia, Octavia?” Rarity asked.

“A few times, yes,” she said guardedly.

“Probably when you performed at the Gala last year, huh?” Applejack said.

“Yes.”

“It must be fascinating to have a spot on the Canterlot Orchestra,” Twilight said. She smiled at Octavia as she did so, hoping to coax a friendlier response.

“I wish that that were the case, but I do not actually have an official seat there. I work freelance.”

“Ah thought you were one of them big-time musicians,” Applejack said.

“I am still very famous. I just do not have a permanent employer.”

“Why?” Twilight asked.

Octavia paused. “I do not wish to say.”

“Why ever not?” Rarity asked.

“My reasons are my own.”

They all looked at each other quizzically. Had they touched a nerve?

“We don’t mean to pry,” Twilight said. “We’re just curious about you.”

“I understand,” Octavia said.

Twilight waited for her to go on, but she didn’t. “Soooo… you’ve been all around Equestria.”

“Yes, mostly.”

“What’s it like?”

“Traveling?”

“No, Equestria. We’ve only been here and Ponyville.”

“An’ Appleloosa,” Applejack said.

“Oh, yes, and Appleloosa.”

“Equestria is… interesting,” Octavia said. She appeared to be choosing her words carefully. “Traveling as I have gives one a very powerful sense of perspective.”

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.

“Take Canterlot, for instance. To ponies like you, this is a huge, metropolitan city.”

“Well, it is the capital,” Rainbow said.

“That is true. But there are a few cities, south of here, that make Canterlot look tiny. I no longer look at this city with awe.”

“I’ve read about some of those southern cities,” Twilight said. “Trottingham and Applewood are the biggest ones.”

“I’ve heard of those, but I’ve never seen them,” Rarity said. “Oh, Octavia, you must tell me about them.”

“My words cannot do them justice.”

“Oh, come on, Octavia,” Rainbow said impatiently.

“I was going to continue. You interrupted me.”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.”

“Trottingham is very rural, and very spread out. Much of the city is farmland.”

“Like a bigger version of Ponyville,” Rarity said.

“Not quite,” Twilight said. “Ponyville is much more insular. Trottingham is the center of Equestrian trade. Right, Octavia?”

“Yes. Airships and trains go there every day to exchange goods. Much of the society is based on transit.”

“But what is it like there?” Rarity pressed.

“Many ponies like it, though I do not. It is too undeveloped for my tastes. The ponies there are quite nice, and the view is beautiful. It is generally very sunny. The food is also excellent, but my favorite thing about Trottingham is the wine.” She smiled to herself. “I have several barrels of a Trottingham vintage at home. There is nothing like it in Equestria.”

“What ‘bout Applewood?” Applejack asked.

“Applewood is the largest city in Equestria, and most of the country’s wealthiest ponies live there. While Trottingham is open and quiet, Applewood is excessive, noisy, and… I think the best word is ‘debauched’, really.”

“Sounds awesome,” Rainbow said.

“Much of it is designed to attract tourists. There are casinos, concert halls, massive hotels, thousands of restaurants with all different kinds of food. Ponies travel from all across Equestria to go there, and everypony who is anypony has performed there. In addition, there is a huge amusement park just south of it. It covers approximately four hundred acres.”

“Sweet Celestia,” Rarity said.

“You can get anything in Applewood. Any book, any instrument, any food, any drug. Anything. It is a good city to spend a few days, but I cannot imagine living there. I like the big city, but Applewood is too much.”

“Where is it?” Rarity asked.

“It is in the middle of the desert, a few thousand miles south of Trottingham, which is itself about a thousand miles south of the Everfree Forest.”

“Long haul,” Rainbow said.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Twilight said. “If it makes Canterlot look small… wow. Just wow.”

“We will go there eventually, I am sure,” Octavia said.

“Ah imagine so,” Applejack said. “In the meantime, we’re here.”

They landed beside the stairs and debarked, and as they did, Celestia came out of the palace, smiling. “My little ponies. I cannot say how much I appreciate your haste. I had not expected you to act so quickly.”

“We just sort of lucked into a spot to do our spell,” Twilight said with a humble shrug.

“Well, whatever works. Good afternoon, Octavia.”

“Good day, your highness,” she said, bowing low.

“Princess, Octavia’s coming along with us,” Twilight said.

Celestia’s smile faltered. “Oh?”

“She volunteered to be our guide.”

Celestia smiled down on Octavia, who averted her eyes respectfully. “That’s very nice of her. Did you tell her the risk involved?”

Octavia stepped forward. “They did, your highness. I am well aware of the risk I am taking in going with them.”

“Very well. As long as you understand the danger you’re putting yourself in. How did this happen?”

“We—what? Oh, well, we were talking with my parents, and Rarity brought her over, and she asked, and we accepted her,” Twilight said. “Nothing big.”

Celestia pursed her lips. “Hm. Interesting.”

“Is there something wrong, your highness?”

Celestia took some time before answering. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Applejack intoned.

“I can’t be certain right now. But rest assured, if it does become a problem, I will alert you as soon as I can. For now, my little ponies, do not worry.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Octavia said with another bow.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell us now, Princess?” Fluttershy asked.

“I don’t want to trouble you needlessly,” Celestia said. “I might be worrying for nothing.”

“Well, okay,” Twilight said uncertainly. She looked at the princess, then at Octavia. “First Octavia’s secrecy, and now Celestia. What’s going on?” “We just came by to make sure everything was okay.”

“Everything is wonderful, Twilight. You did an excellent job on the spell, and ponies are already rebuilding.”

Twilight smiled warmly. “Thank you, Princess. We were going to do the other spell today, and then leave.”

“So soon? Have you even eaten yet?”

“Just a few of our rations,” Rainbow said hopefully.

“That’s no way for the saviors of Equestria to eat. Come, you shall eat in the royal dining room.” She thought for a moment. “And if any of you want to take a shower, you may do so in the guest washroom.”

“You don’t have to do that fer us, Princess,” Applejack said.

“Nonsense!” Rarity cried. “Oh, your highness, we would love to take you up on your offer.”

Celestia giggled as she led them into the great hall. The palace windows had been restored, again coloring the beams of sunlight that came through, and a pair of guards stood at the throne. Before it, head bowed in submission under a guard’s stern gaze, a single pony stood, hooves and wings bound. They looked curiously, but did not speak, as they went into an adjacent room, where Celestia ordered a guard to take them to the guest washroom.

While the princess stayed behind with Octavia, the others followed the silent guard down a small maze of corridors until reaching a wide, pristine bathroom, itself a labyrinth of showers, baths, and mirrors, all walled off by chest-high barriers and spanning several hundred square feet. None of them questioned why the palace had regained running water as they stepped into the warm, decorated showers, relieved beyond words at being properly clean for the first time in weeks.

When they were done, refreshed and happy, they rejoined Celestia and Octavia in a long dining room, spanned with a narrow table and surrounded, at its head, by a set of plush pillows. “I trust your showers were pleasant?” Celestia asked.

“Totally awesome,” Rainbow said in a quavering voice. They were all still shaken from the sudden relief.

“Then please, make yourselves at home. I will return shortly.”

Octavia spoke up. “Your highness, you are not planning on doing what I think you are, are you?”

Celestia laughed. “I was planning on seeing what I can rustle up for you all, and serving you. Is that what you were thinking?”

Octavia stared for a moment, her jaw slack, and shook her head. “I must protest, your highness. With all due respect, it is not your place to be serving such as us.”

“As ruler of Equestria, there are very few places that are not mine. Why should I be deprived the pleasure of serving my friends?”

Before she could object further, Celestia disappeared into the confines of the palace, returning a few minutes later with her wings spread, plates of food balanced on them like giant coins. “Bon apetit, my friends,” she said, levitating the plates of food onto the table. “I hope it is to your liking.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Octavia said, bowing.

“I truly wish I could stay and eat with you, but I am needed in the observatory. There is something that I must attend.”

“We understand, Princess,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, but thanks a million!” Rainbow said, her mouth already full.

“Wait, your highness,” Twilight said. Her voice was low. “I have a question. Who was that pony in the throne room?”

Celestia’s face darkened. “Since you chased Discord away, ponies have been turning up all over the city, claiming to be recovering from hypnosis. I think they’re left-over soldiers.”

“Left-over?” Rarity repeated.

“The majority of Discord’s army, I suspect, was composed of hypnotized or glamoured ponies. Now, those that could not escape town are waking up, so to speak.” She averted her eyes. “I’ve decided to confine them for the time, to be safe.”

“Huh. I hadn’t even thought of that,” Twilight said.

“He had to get ‘em somewhere, I guess,” Rainbow said, shrugging.

Celestia looked over the table, then over the room. “Now, I’m afraid I must go. Please, enjoy your time here.”

Octavia bowed again, and Celestia disappeared. As soon as she was gone, they began eating. Pinkie appeared to be mostly over her earlier conflict, and everyone else, taking the cue from her, began to relax. They soon started talking again, free of the tension that had defined their first impression of Octavia.

“Tell me, Octavia, how did you get your cutie mark?” Rarity asked.

“I gained my cutie mark very late in life. I had… just graduated from college, and I joined a traveling group of entertainers. There was a dramatist, a magician, a comedian, but no musician. That is where I came in. My first instrument was the guitar, and I found my cutie mark after our first show. It was not our most successful, but it has always stood out in my memory.”

“That’s a nice story,” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah, it sounds like lots of fun,” Pinkie said, and Octavia glared at her again.

“Something wrong, Octavia?” Twilight asked casually.

“No. There is nothing wrong.”

Twilight let her eyes linger on Octavia for a moment. “Good.”

They finished their lunch and cleared the table, Twilight leading the way to the kitchen and insisting they wash up. When they were done, they left the palace and got back into the ship. It was five o’ clock, and the sun was lowering. They flew into the middle of the ruined city, searching for a rooftop that was large enough for the sigil and the ship.

It was several minutes into their flight that Octavia pointed out a large fortress of a building, a powerful-looking totem in the middle of the anonymous grays and browns surrounding it. Twilight recognized it immediately: Stained Moon Library, the oldest library in Canterlot, modeled after an ancient castle and renowned for its selection of occult texts. It was unharmed.

“So, you said you played the guitar when you were young,” Rainbow said suddenly, coming up beside Octavia.

“Yes.”

“Do you play anything now?”

“Besides the cello, she means,” Rarity added.

“Yes. Aside from the cello and guitar, I am proficient with the piano, the viola, and the trombone.”

“You play all of those?” Rainbow said.

“Yes.”

“Octavia, that’s awesome! I’ve never known somepony who can play so much.”

“Thank you. I am best-known for my cello playing, of course, but I try to keep myself practiced with all of them.”

“I’ve heard your other instruments,” Rarity said. “I have a record of all your music. I listen to it whenever I need to unwind.”

“Thank you. While I am popular for my cello playing, I pride myself on knowing a wide variety. I wish more ponies listened to my piano work.”

“Ah used to play the guitar myself,” Applejack said, leaning back from the wheel.

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Ah stopped a couple years ago, never picked it back up.”

“Fascinating,” Octavia said dryly.

“Some ponies might think so,” Applejack said quietly, looking back ahead.

“Where is your cello, anyway?” Rarity asked.

Octavia’s voice softened. “It is back at my apartment. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you said you were trying to find your way home when I saw you at the station, but you didn’t have any bags with you.”

“I was looking around to see whether it would be worth my time to try. I did not want to pack, only to find that the trains were not running.”

“I see.”

“Though that does remind me. If it is not too much, I would like to get some of my possessions and bring them on board.” She gave a long pause, and when she spoke again, she did so very quietly. “I do not expect I will be returning here in a very long time, and I would feel better knowing that my things are safe.”

“Of course, dear. We can stop after the spell.”

“What ‘possessions’ do you need to move?” Rainbow asked.

“Just my cello, its case, and a few personal belongings,” Octavia said.

“As long as we don’t have to make more than one trip, I guess.”

“You are overestimating how much I own.”

They began descending, and Twilight looked down at the neighborhood. The Stained Moon Library was a multistory castle of stone turrets and oaken doors, its sides colored with rows of tall, intricate stained-glass windows. Pendants flapped proudly at the top of each corner, tacked onto heavy iron poles. As she studied it, she realized something: the library, despite its old appearance, despite its fragile windows, had suffered not one iota of damage. Around it, the sidewalk was uncracked and unturned, and moving farther outwards, the damage was only minimal. An occasional pothole in the street, a leaning street light, a sagging fence. Only directly across from the library was there any serious damage: a modest, blue building knelt under a sloping roof and against a partially-collapsed façade, its face bowed out sickly.

“Do you go to libraries often, Octavia?” Twilight asked.

“No.”

Twilight frowned and looked back down. “Is this how it’s going to be with her in the group? Quiet and awkward?” She looked at Octavia again, still staring into the distance. She didn’t look away, and Octavia soon noticed her and looked back, her eyebrow raised. Twilight stared at it.

“This is not the first time you have been staring at me,” Octavia said at last.

“Oh.” Twilight was surprised at the odd statement. “Yeah, I guess it isn’t.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I’m just interested.”

Her other eyebrow rose to meet its twin as she lowered her gaze at Twilight.

“Not like that!” Twilight protested. “I just meant interested in… getting to know you better.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes.

“No, not like that! I-I mean, um… I’m not into mares, okay? If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Octavia looked ready to respond, but instead, forced a smile and nodded once.

They circled down and gingerly landed on the library’s roof, which, to Twilight’s disappointment, was not of the same stone as its walls. With the ship sitting to the side, Twilight and Pinkie walked out toward the library’s front, where they could see the rest of the city in a fractured panorama.

Fluttershy watched Twilight begin her work from near the ship, mesmerized both by the intricate line work suggested in her swaying, backtracking path, and by the silent, stoic mare to her side. Octavia fascinated her, but also scared her; her presence seemed a dark, brooding imposition, heavy enough to crush her own shy nature, not out of malice, but of unthinking power. Every time Octavia chanced to look her way, she averted her eyes, but sitting next to her, she felt strangely compelled. She had never met someone so serious.

Eventually, Rainbow came up behind them and started talking, asking Octavia questions. Where she was from, where she had played—idle conversation. Octavia answered with what sounded, to Fluttershy, like trepidation, and quickly turned the conversation to the sigil and the spell.

They explained to her what Princess Celestia had explained to them a week ago—that all ponies were capable of magic, and that Pinkie in particular was an anomaly. She seemed incredulous at first, until Rainbow grabbed a book off of the ship and, with what looked like a heroic exertion, levitated it a foot off the roof for several seconds. She let it drop into a puddle of her own sweat and smiled arrogantly at Octavia, who only looked back, speechless. After a moment, she complimented her laconically and looked back at Twilight, and Fluttershy was again left alone with the stony mare.

As Twilight was nearing the end of the drawing, Octavia released Fluttershy and walked to the side of the roof. When Twilight’s movement came to an abrupt halt, Fluttershy looked away, knowing to avoid the glow that would quickly radiate from Pinkie. Applejack warned Octavia of the same.

Fluttershy kept her eyes fixed in the opposite direction, and suddenly, as she knew they would, the shadows, lengthened by the setting sun, were brutally scrubbed away in a harsh, white light, almost holy in its intensity. She closed her eyes against the glare, and listened as, for the second time in two days, the air was filled with the rumbling, sliding roar of moving earth and stressed buildings, breaking first in a single avalanche of grinding and crushing and then building in intensity and presence as more and more cacophonies bloomed around her. Behind, she heard the tinkling of glass, the growl of upset stones and masonry, and the voices of startled, confused, terrified ponies. She clamped her ears down and tried to watch the pieces move, but the light was too bright, and she could only see the mountain grow inexorably larger until stopping suddenly with a rough, twisted crescendo of tons of stone and soil, merging and marrying with steady violence.

And then it was over. The light faded quickly, and she looked around. Twilight had collapsed, and Pinkie looked dazed, but behind them, the skyline was once again whole. Buildings stood next to each other, leaning or collapsed, and pegasi were shooting into the air like living fireworks.

She and the others ran to Twilight’s side while Octavia walked slowly to the roof’s edge. There was a series of sharp, tense cracks nearby, like timber breaking, and Fluttershy looked up quickly to see Octavia’s eyes widen in horror, looking down at the street below. Beyond, she could make out the top of the blue building, swirls of dust billowing up and around it. There was another crack, louder than those preceding it, and the roof, already tilted, sunk down with a groan. The entire structure vanished from Fluttershy’s view, replaced with a massive, heavy cloud of dust, and Octavia’s face grew alarmed, then grave.

She turned quickly and galloped over to them. “Help!”

Rainbow looked at her, startled. “Huh?”

“Two ponies are hurt below. They need help.”

Fluttershy’s heart plummeted. “Hurt?” she repeated. “Oh, Celestia, no.”

“Someone needs to help them,” Octavia repeated seriously.

“Octavia, there’s no way. Look at all that dust,” Rainbow said.

“They were stuck by debris. They might not be able to get out on their own.” She looked at them all and, as if sensing their reluctance, sighed angrily. “Rainbow Dash, fly me down to the ground.”

“You’re not going in there!” Rainbow cried.

“Fly me down,” she repeated calmly.

“It’s too dangerous,” Rarity said.

“If someone does not help them, they may die. If you cannot, I will. Fly me down.” She walked purposefully to the edge, and Rainbow, with a nervous look back, followed her. They slipped over the edge, Rainbow’s forelegs under Octavia’s, and Fluttershy followed, alarmed. Did Octavia know what she was doing?

From the edge of the roof, she saw Rainbow release Octavia, who walked without a look back into the solid cloud of dust and dirt, vanishing only a few strides in. Fluttershy trembled on the edge. “She actually did it. But how? Doesn’t she know it’s dangerous?” She shook harder, mind clenching with anxiety. “But what about those poor ponies inside?”

The final question was too much. Her empathy was already inflamed by Octavia’s behavior, and she could only kneel where she stood, oblivious to the dust creeping up toward her, and cried. “She’s gone, all gone. We’ve already lost a friend, just after making one!” She coughed and sniffled and bent her head, and a pair of hooves guided her away from the edge, following Rarity’s gentle, consoling voice. She kept her head down, ashamed that she should be seen in her state, and refused to look when Pinkie tried to make her laugh.

When she stepped back onto the ship, she broke free from Rarity and ran to the back, head filled and eyes misted. “It’s too much. It’s too much. Oh Celestia, please. I want to go home (no home). I want to leave, I want Ponyville.” She rested her head on the gunwale, and the firmness on her head only made her cry harder. “This isn’t the place for a soft pony like you, Fluttershy. Soft and weak (pathetic). Weak!”

The roof sunk away, and a hoof rubbed her back. She could tell it was Rainbow without looking; no one else touched her with such unaccustomed softness. She didn’t process Rainbow’s words, only looked on miserably, studying the growing pool of tears on the deck beneath her. “Please go away, Dash.”

When they landed again, down the street and just inside the outer edge of the expanding dust cloud, she dragged her eyes up and tried to peer inside. “Oh, Celestia, please, where (she’s dead) is she?” She could see a dark form lumbering inside, but dared not guess at its identity until Rainbow shouted out her name.

“Octavia!”

Rainbow darted into the cloud, and the silhouette separated. A minute later, Rainbow flew out, an old mare hooked in her forelegs, and Octavia followed slowly, a stallion by her side, foreleg over her withers and hobbling awkwardly. Free from the dust, she stopped and patted his back, and Applejack trotted down the plank with a flask of water.

Fluttershy could only watch, transfixed, as the two ponies—the mare, panting and coated in dust, and the stallion, holding aloft a clearly-broken leg—were brought forth, left to rest on the street while Octavia spoke with Applejack.

“Fluttershy, go down there and help them,” Rarity urged behind her, and she shook her head to clear it.

“Go down, yes. Help them. You can (weak) do that, Fluttershy.” She dazedly walked down the gangplank and over to the pair of ponies, who looked at her with confusion. “I’m here to help you,” she said, her voice sounding hollow in her ears. They both looked at each other, then Octavia.

Applejack held up a hoof. “Let her help. She’s our healer.”

Octavia set the stallion down gingerly and stepped away for Fluttershy, who approached, still shocked. Against the backdrop of dust, and in her still-fragile mental state, she felt like she was walking through a dream.

“Focus, Fluttershy. Healing. Focus on healing.” She looked closely at the stallion’s leg, and for a moment, it was Princess Celestia’s. Training. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of dust and fur, and it cleared her mind. Her tears were gone, and she could feel the power of her will beginning to ebb back into her. “Healing. Restoration.” She saw the leg in her mind’s eye, and felt herself swell inside. There was energy in her mind, and with it, she forced the image of the leg to change. She exhaled slowly and calmly, a tiny stream of breath through her nose, and the swelling went down, the willpower behind it coalescing into a pearl of certainty. “Healing.” Before her, the mare and stallion shuffled uncomfortably, but she paid it no mind. She knew it was working. “Healing is good.”

She opened her eyes to see the stallion staring back at her, amazed. She stepped back, and he flexed his leg. She knew she had repaired the bone, but seeing his disbelief turn to shock and then joy before her still made her smile in surprise. He stood shakily, and Octavia moved to help him, but there was no need. He stood for a few seconds, face empty, and then laughed, once. Simple, and all the appreciation Fluttershy needed. He leaned forward and hugged her, and she could feel pricks of moisture fall onto her coat as he shook against her body. She said nothing. There was nothing to say.

After making sure that both stallion and mare were unharmed, and then offering to take them to the hospital on their ship, Octavia boarded. She knew that she could not avoid the questions and reprimands that came to her. How could she do something so reckless? Didn’t she know it was a bad idea to go into a dust cloud that thick? What if she had suffocated? She answered only that she knew what she was doing the entire time, and was never in any serious danger. Of them all, only Pinkie appeared to understand.

They took off, and when Twilight had regained her constitution, Fluttershy explained what had happened. When they were high above the collapse site, heading back around toward Octavia’s apartment, Pinkie spoke. “Did… my magic do that?”

Everyone looked at her, ready to respond, but held their tongues; her mane and tail were going straight, and her eyes were wide, tears just behind them.

“Pinkie,” Twilight began gently, “you could never have predicted that that would happen.”

“But it was my magic, wasn’t it?”

“Pinkie,” Applejack started.

“Wasn’t it?” Pinkie insisted.

“…Yeah, Ah guess technically it was, but—”

“It’s all my fault!” Pinkie wailed dramatically, and they backed away a little. Tears were flowing down her face, and she sniffed loudly, looking at them all. “See? Even now, my magic is at work! You all backed away. You’re afraid of me!”

“No, Pinkie, it’s not like that,” Twilight said, holding up a hoof.

Pinkie stopped and looked into her eyes. She spoke more slowly. “If I didn’t have these stupid powers, those ponies wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“Don’t say that, Pinkie,” Rarity said.

“But it’s true.”

“If you didn’t have your magic, we wouldn’t be able to help everypony like we have been,” Twilight said.

“If I didn’t have my magic, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” Pinkie screeched, and Octavia turned quickly to look at her, surprised.

“Pinkie, don’t think like that,” Twilight said. “Besides, Fluttershy healed them. Everything’s okay.”

“Their building isn’t,” Pinkie said, wiping her eyes. “Their lives aren’t. And Fluttershy only healed their bodies; she can’t make ‘em not sad, or scared.”

They were silent for a moment. “It’s not your fault,” Fluttershy said at last.

“It’s none of ours,” Applejack put in.

Pinkie looked down at the deck for a moment, and then turned and went back to the hatch, ignoring their protests. As soon as the trapdoor was shut, Octavia looked at the stunned group, hoping for some explanation; no one offered it. They only looked out, or at each other, with sad faces. A few seconds later, Rainbow went to the hatch after Pinkie, and Octavia went to the front with Applejack to guide them to her apartment. She spoke quietly, out of respect for the others.

Applejack glided them over the restored city, and Octavia indicated a monochrome stripe of apartment complexes sitting flush against the mountain, clinging to the rocks like lichen. They went down and landed in a small airship parking lot just outside one of the building conglomerations.

“My apartment is close by,” Octavia said. “I will return as quickly as I can.”

“You want any help?” Applejack asked.

Octavia thought. “I suppose some help would be appreciated.”

“All right then. Ah’ll be back, y’all,” she said to the group. She led Octavia down the plank, and then let her take the lead out of the parking lot and down a dull gray street, empty. Here, so close to the mountain, the earthquake hadn’t been as bad, and most buildings were unharmed. An odd piece of roofing material or glittering patch of glass was all the debris they could see on the road and on the sidewalk, unctuous and dirty yellow in the sunset.

“Pinkie said that if it were not for her magic, we would not be in this situation,” Octavia said. “You said that it was Discord who did this.” She didn’t ask for clarification; she knew Applejack knew what she meant.

“All right, Ah’ll be honest with ya. It was Pinkie who did this whole thing, but it ain’t her fault, okay? Princess Celestia designed the sigil wrong, an’ Pinkie got too much magic, an’ she didn’t know what to do with it. It, it got outta control.”

Octavia didn’t know what to say. She and Pinkie were sisters, but they hardly knew each other. The thought that her own flesh and blood could be responsible, even tangentially, for the crisis they faced, was too much for her to consider. It rolled around in her mind like a pebble, and she could do nothing with it; neither belief nor disbelief came naturally. “I understand.”

Applejack didn’t respond, and Octavia was grateful for the silence. In it, she could order her thoughts and enjoy the scenery. She had always liked the low-class desolation of her complex: the weeds between slabs of pavement; the tiny, cluttered balconies that hung above the street like pockets of ponies’ personal lives; the sounds of foals crying and playing, of tinny music blasting through cheap radios; the smells and spices of home-cooked, convenience store meals.

She took Applejack into a small, familiar alleyway. Curling, sun-dried posters hung on the brickwork, advertising ancient public events or lost items. She skirted an empty playground, where she would sometimes practice in the middle of the night, quiet and alone in the filthy sand and rusted toys. She walked past a small ramada, where everyone’s mailboxes were stacked and ordered by number, not name, and onto a wider street, flanked with parking spaces. A few carriages sat under rain-spotted, fabric awnings. A large, metal trash bin sat askew in a brick alcove, its blue paint flecking off to reveal blackened rust. The asphalt was still warm, and all the same sounds that Octavia was used to were there: young ponies playing, out of sight. Mothers scolding. Noisome music inside a screen door. All of it, covering the sounds of jubilation and confusion in the distance, her own personal oasis.

“Ah’m sorry we lied to ya,” Applejack said at last.

Octavia looked back at her.

“We didn’t want you to think Pinkie was some sorta crazy, out-of-control pony. That’s all.”

“I understand, and I would lie too, if I were in your situation. All is forgiven.” She turned down an offshoot of the main road. A patch of scraggly flowers bloomed in a cigarette-studded oval of dirt, bisected by a fence.

“Yer awfully quiet fer a musician,” Applejack said.

“Yes, I am.”

“Why? Are you just a quiet pony? Like Fluttershy?”

“I suppose I must be.” She let it hang, and when Applejack took a breath to try to pursue the issue, Octavia spoke again. “I do not like to speak, if there is nothing to say. It is something that I learned in my youth.”

“It’s all right,” Applejack said. “Like you, Ah understand. It’s just, you come off as kind of unfriendly. Ah think so, at least.”

“I am aware of my impression on others.” She turned an abrupt ninety degrees into a stairwell, heading up to the second floor.

“If you don’t mind my askin’… is that why you…”

“Yes?”

“Have so little friends?” Applejack finished quietly.

“That is one of the reasons, yes.”

“One of the reasons?”

“Yes.”

Octavia pushed open the door, taking them into apartment 1020.

“You don’t lock yer door?”

“I am an earth pony. Keys are too much of a hassle, and no one bothers me anyway.” She entered the dim interior, looking around disinterestedly. She loved the complex outside, but hated her own apartment: a depressing, three-room suite, furnished only with a couch, a bed, and her meager possessions. No smell of food, only dust and dry rot. She had been to the grocery store once since arriving, more than a week ago.

“I will carry my cello, but if you could go into my room and collect the bags on the bed, that would be helpful,” Octavia said, grabbing a bulky instrument case from the couch and slinging it onto her back. Applejack went into the bedroom, and Octavia went to the kitchen. The cupboards were bare, save for a couple tins of peas, and the fridge was empty but for a single, sticky stain. A stack of mail sat on the counter: bills, advertisements, subscription offers, and a single letter addressed to her specifically—not “resident.” She clumsily bit the envelope open and read the letter: fan mail. A college student in Cloudsdale had just discovered her music, and loved it.

“Is there anythin’ else?” Applejack asked from behind her.

Octavia didn’t jump, and only placed the fan letter back on the pile. “I believe not.” She exited the kitchen and crossed the living room to a pair of dirty sliding glass doors. She drew them back and looked at her balcony; only a pair of potted plants stood outside, sentinel to the dying sun. With a nod, she made for the door.

“Leavin’ the couch?”

“I doubt I will be needing a couch where I am going.”

“What ‘bout that stack of mail?”

Octavia paused at the front door. “How long do you think we will be traveling?”

Applejack looked taken aback. “How long? Uh, gee. Ah’m not sure.”

“Months? Years?”

“Uh… months. Ah’m ballparkin’, but Ah’d guess somethin’ like two or three.”

Octavia looked back at her apartment, studying it. Two or three months was not a long time—not long enough for ponies to give up on finding her. Debt collectors, her landlord, and the constant tide of bills: electricity, utilities, water. Accumulated for months in her absence, an absence spent adventuring with strangers, and not performing. Not earning money.

She looked at Applejack, who looked back with a soft expression. She looked at her apartment. The couch: dented from where she slept, when she slept. Her plants: neglected. Her bedroom: almost untouched. The pile of mail in the kitchen. Money.

“It’s hard to leave home sometimes. Ah know how ya feel,” Applejack said.

Octavia looked back inside. It was insanity. She did not know them, except Pinkie, whom she did not like. She had traveled, but knew nothing of quests. She had never fought an enemy, or faced anything more dangerous than a cold night alone. Before, in the train station, she had been confident in her sudden decision. She would throw it away, all of it. Everything. What she hadn’t considered, and now crashed onto her like a pile of unread letters: what would come after? For there would be an afterwards. After the journey, what then? Debt, depression, a career ruined by a sudden and unexplained absence. Not even an empty apartment to call home. And no family or friends to fall back on.

“Octavia? You okay?”

She closed her eyes. “There is a solution, but this is not it. Running accomplishes nothing.”

“Octavia?”

Tears squeezed between her eyelids, and she sighed shakily. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Running accomplishes nothing.”

She looked out the door, ajar, at the sunset sky, blurred by tears. A bird perched on the eave of the opposite building. Trees swayed in a light breeze. A flower fell. “Nothing at all.”

Without speaking, she walked out onto the landing, letting the door close on its own. They walked down the stairs slowly and silently, down the darkening street. Applejack didn’t say anything, and Octavia didn’t look back, not when they turned off her street, not when they passed the playground, not when they passed the sign outside the complex.

They got on the ship, and Pinkie was back out. She looked better. Octavia placed her cello against the rail, and Applejack put her bags down next to it, then took the wheel.

“We’re headin’ out,” she said. “Anypony got anythin’ else they need to do here? Now’s yer chance.”

No one said anything, and so they took off.