Pinkie knew something was wrong. Ordinarily, when Twilight completed her giant sigil, she was infused with a rush of power and knowledge, almost disorienting in its intensity. At first, she thought it was just the strange location; the villa was full of powerfully enchanted objects. As she reached out to touch the separate pieces of countryside—so few, in comparison to the other locations they had seen—her discomfort lessened, before coming back with an acute snap. Something nearby was not as it was supposed to be, but also, worryingly, very easy to pass over. So she did. She took the giant slabs of earth and stone and brought them together as she always did, mindful as always of any creatures near the edges, that they not be caught: something the others only asked her about once, and she dismissed. She knew what she was doing.

When it was over, the last glimpse of power she had was of that same distinct wrongness, before it all slipped away, and she plummeted back into her own body, before sagging, spent, to the ground. Everyone cheered.

As soon as Octavia felt the spell taking place, she rose and went to the window, facing the back of the villa, where there was nothing but empty plains for her to watch move. When the commotion was over, she took a moment to admire the restored scenery. In her mind, they were finished. Trottingham was complete, and in less than a week. She smiled, and Mama Astra laughed at her own window.

When the large, dark ship sped into view, as fast and deliberate as an arrow, it was a moment before she reacted. Her pulse jumped and her heart danced anxiously, but she only mustered a sigh. It was the same ship they had seen in Manehattan, its dark, wooden body a shadow over the villa’s grounds.

“What is that?” Mama Astra asked.

Octavia went to the door. She knew what had to happen. “Evacuate everyone, and get the crow ready.”

When the heavy, loud suit of armor clattered into the room, Twilight squealed in delight, and Violet gasped.

“Girls, follow me,” she said seriously. “There’s an emergency.”

“Emergency? What? Now?” Rainbow cried, helping Pinkie to her hooves.

“I don’t know,” Violet said. “But the suits of armor only do this when something’s wrong.”

They followed her out of the room hastily, down the hall, to a staircase. “What about Octavia?” Pinkie asked.

“She’ll be fine.” Something crashed in the distance, huge and visceral, and Violet paused. She looked back at them with a sick expression.

“Where are we going?” Rarity asked.

“Probably outside,” she said. Her voice was weak.

Octavia made it outside first, her friends right after her. Suits of armor led groups of confused and alarmed ponies out the front doors in steady streams, while the dark ship rotated above. It had sent an initial cannonball down into the villa’s south wing, and when she looked up at it, she could see the impression of a second cannon hanging off its side, ready.

Before it fired again, there was a crash of broken glass, and a dark form emerged from within the house, accompanied by a small hive of glowing shards coming up over the courtyard: discharge from the central fountain. The Astra crow rose on flaming, black wings and sped straight at the ship. As they watched, fascinated, suspended between fear and excitement, a jet of flame leapt from its beak to flow across the ship’s hull while the fountain’s spells exploded against its bottom. Some ponies cheered, but most stayed silent.

The crow was only a fraction of the ship’s size, and swooped up to the masts in a long arc, its wings shearing the air with a thunderous sound. As it ascended, the ship fired another cannon, and the villa’s roof caved in near the front door. Ponies cried out angrily, and the suits of armor stayed with their charges.

Octavia looked quickly at Twilight, who looked back emptily. There was nothing to do but watch as the two flying machines fought. Their own airship was on the other side of the maze, and the enemy ship was out of range of their magic.

Another cannon fired, and the crow stuttered in flight, one wing flapping back awkwardly at a spray of sparks, and it released another comet of flame, catching the sails. Below, the hull had gone out, and where the fire was, there was only a fuzzy, black circle. The crow flew back and around, and Octavia looked back to the ship. She clenched her jaw involuntarily: the single cannon had been replaced with an entire row, lining the ship’s side like tiny teeth.

As she drew in air to steady herself, the volley fired, and the villa responded with a crunch of destroyed beams and walls. Mama Astra cried out beside her, and the crow turned quickly to ram its body into the ship. Flame spewed as it glanced off the dark wood, and the cannons fired again, some crashing off the crow’s body, but most hitting their target.

The villa was sinking into itself as the ship turned around, pointing its bowsprit at the house. The crow still attacked, fast and frenzied: the family pet defending its masters. It moved like a real bird, flapping its incredible wings to steady itself as it squawked shots of fire at the aggressor, moving in occasionally to dig its talons into the hull. The fountain gave off another round of glowing missiles.

“Oh, crap,” Twilight said quietly.

Octavia looked at her, but didn’t have to wait for the answer to her questioning expression. With a low roar, a gout of flame flew from the ship’s front, from a hatch under the figurehead. In one instant, the small hope that remained in the crow’s abilities to stop the ship was gone, flashed away in a sizzling rush as flame embraced plaster. The crow responded with a burst of flame of its own, but it barely brushed the ship as it turned again.

She watched, frozen, as the house before her burned. The fire had met it around the middle, and from her perspective, it was a couple seconds before the first orange tongues of flame were visible, flickering above the roof under a darkening mist of smoke. The suits of armor stood their ground, but from within, the suit servants came running, some aflame, some not. Mama Astra wept by her side, and Violet stared with wet eyes. Octavia could only stand still.

The ship turned, the crow rushed it once more, and a swarm of small, blue orbs glinted overhead before bursting on the house, dampening some of the flames. Before the crow could attack again, the ship had turned away from the villa and sped away, coming to rest in the distance on the other side of town. The crow stopped momentarily, confused, and then took off after it.

“Wait. The vineyard.” Octavia looked at Violet, whose eyes lingered on the burning house. Her friends watched as well, transfixed. “The villa is lost, but the vineyard is not.” At the thought, even despite her fatigue from traversing the aqueducts that morning, a solution formed. It was too dangerous, but she could do nothing else.

“Violet,” she commanded. “Bring it back.”

“W-what? No! She’s—”

“Bring the crow back and give her to me. I need to evacuate the vineyard.”

Violet trembled for a moment, then raised her head slightly. “Come back, crow.” Her voice was hardly audible, but the crow, a black curtain of metal and flame suspended against the blue sky, turned immediately to speed back to them.

“Have the crow follow my orders,” Octavia said. She was breathless with fear, doubtful, but her voice wavered only slightly. “No one else will do anything.”

Violet looked up at the coming crow, and it landed beside them. Heat radiated off its body, and Octavia approached carefully. “Crow, follow Octavia’s orders,” she breathed.

“Thank you.” Octavia faced the crow: glowing, smoking eyes atop a swelling, black body, hot enough to shrivel the grass at its feet, and folded, smoldering wings grouped together like scissors. “Crow, let me ride you.”

It turned swiftly and knelt, its legs flipping up underneath as it lowered itself. A small fold of metal appeared and unfurled along its side, and she went to it quickly, putting her concentration into a rudimentary shield spell, to block out some of the heat. As she approached, sweat stood out on her head, and she was aware of the others protesting behind her. Rarity screamed that it was crazy.

“Yes, this is crazy,” she thought, ascending the thin stairs. They were warm under her hooves, and as she climbed the black mound, she thought briefly of what would happen if she were to lose her balance. The stairs were not too hot, but she could feel the impossible heat coming off the rest of its body; to fall onto it would leave her immobile and helpless, even with her shield.

The saddle was a small, leather seat, fixed in a metal cradle that was bolted to the crow’s back. Machinery churned below, and smoke escaped in fine streams out of a pair of pinholes by two straps. She quickly wrapped them around her forelegs, giving a look toward the vineyard. The ship hovered over it, but she heard no cannons.

“Crow, go to the vineyard,” she said. Dread sank in her mind as it stood up, and she was suddenly ten feet off the ground, secured only by two thin loops of leather. With a nightmarish shearing sound, its wings came out, and before she could process the fear that tightened in her chest, they were off the ground with a powerful flap. Metal cut the air with a heavy, ripping sound, and smoke rolled down into her face as they rose.

She could hear the others shouting at her from below, but their voices were nothing to her against the shrieking metal and flame. They moved upwards unevenly, wildly, fast enough to force her back; she held the straps tighter, ignoring them as they bit into her legs. Tilted up at the endless sky, the wind and smoke in her face, her heart was petrified; she didn’t look to the sides, where she would see the massive, twenty-foot curves of burning iron, nor did she look down, where she would see the small houses and barns of Trottingham fading under thin clouds. At her back, there was only empty air and the horrid, high whistle of its perforated tail, a fan of rigid, black razors. She fixed her eyes on the rapidly rotating gears on the crow’s neck, where smoke flew in savage puffs, and tried to focus on coming task. She could not.

When the flapping stopped, she breathed out, momentarily relieved as they coasted and leveled out. They were eye level with the mountaintops, and as the ship moved closer into view, she took her eyes off the crow’s gears to study it. Her nerves were too taut to give reaction to what she saw: the sail had returned, and the blackened marks on its hull were gone. She knew she was where she needed to be, but still could not look down. “Crow, land me near the main house.”

They pitched to the side at her words, and her heart clenched as she gripped the straps tighter. Even with her eyes on its gears, its angle let her see the ground, and she was frozen. She was at least a hundred feet off the striated ground, as free and uncovered as the machine she rode, and descending fast. She could see Vintage’s house, and a few employee houses away from it, and let out an agonizing, quivering breath as they grew from toys to buildings.

Despite their speed, they landed gently, and Octavia climbed off the crow with her nerves in tatters. Her walk down the stairs was slow and shaking, and she jumped the last two, landing on the warm ground with a loud gasp of joy. She stood where she landed for only a few seconds, ignorant to the heat at her back, before reorienting herself. She ran to Vintage’s door, and turned back to the crow quickly, remembering its reliance on her orders. “Crow, attack that ship.”

With a rush of air that almost made her fall over, it took back to the sky, and she threw Vintage’s door open, calling for her. Back on the ground, she could think clearly, and the enormity of her job came to her—too enormous for one pony. “Still, I must try.”

Vintage came out of her room, her face a mask of terror, which lightened only slightly at Octavia’s appearance. “What’s going on?”

“There is an emergency. Help me evacuate the employees.”

“What?”

“Help me evacuate everyone!” Octavia barked, turning and running back outside. The crow and ship were again engaged in battle, and though no cannonballs fired, she knew it would not be long before they did. She looked back quickly; Vintage was by her side, looking fixedly forward. “Where are the employee houses?”

“Head that way,” Vintage said, pointing north. “I’ll go a different way.”

Above, something cracked, and they split apart. Octavia jumped ungracefully over a ridge of dead grapevines, and for the first time, she thought of the villa, all the way across town, and only a few minutes away.

With one final spray of blue orbs, the last tongues of flame were doused, and the villa was out. Even charred and shattered, a shred of its glory remained; the imposing frame stood strongly against the crumbling plaster, a proud skeleton.

Still, the house was destroyed. The entire family was stunned; some cried, some yelled, some stared in disbelief. The suit servants that had survived came to their masters, slow and respectful, to wait by them; some gave sleeves or lapels to wipe tears and noses. The suits of armor were as still as ever, and from behind, statues and topiary ponies stepped forward, heads bowed. Twilight watched the crow and the ship in the distance.

“Is everypony okay?” Applejack asked finally. “Anyone hurt?”

“We’re all here,” an elderly stallion said. Papa Astra.

“Where is your friend?” Mama Astra asked.

“Octavia took the crow across town,” Violet said. “She needed to evacuate the vineyard.”

“She’s gonna kill herself over there,” Applejack said. “We need to go after her.”

“No, don’t,” Twilight said. “We’re needed here.”

“Let Octavia do her thing,” Pinkie said. “I think she knows what she’s doing.”

“What can we do?” Twilight asked.

Papa Astra looked at the ruined villa. “I don’t know.”

As Octavia approached the first employee house, the massive ship, minus one mast and with a spreading forest of flames on its back, turned and shot away. The crow made to pursue it, and Octavia ordered it back. It landed outside the house, and she pondered her next move. The evacuation was no longer necessary, but she could not simply leave everyone to wonder what had happened. “Crow, return to the Astras. Help them however you can.” It jumped into the air and soared away, and an employee cracked the door open.

“We’ve seen it before, yes,” Rarity said. “But never this close.”

“Will it come back?” Papa Astra asked. The family was still stuck in the courtyard, processing the situation, while the servants picked through the house’s wreckage.

“I don’t think so. It looks like your crow chased it off.”

“But I don’t think it’s gone,” Twilight said. “Based on what I’ve seen, I think it can repair itself.”

“But why did it come here? Why now?” Applejack asked. “Right after a spell.”

“Um… there was something,” Pinkie said. “Something strange about this one.”

“Strange how?” Twilight asked.

“I dunno. It kind of felt like there was something underneath your spell.”

“The sigil outside the house,” Papa Astra said.

“There’s a sigil somewhere?” Twilight said.

“We found it after your friends left, the first time. Half of a summoning sigil, and the other half on the other side of a gap. For what, we couldn’t tell.”

“I bet it was to summon that ship,” Rarity said.

Twilight sighed. “And when we brought the ground back together, it joined the sigil halves, activating it. Yes, probably.” She wanted to be angry, but could only sigh again, drained. “Damn Discord. If we had known, I could have erased it, or something.”

“We told Octavia. Did she not tell you?” Papa Astra asked.

“What? No, she didn’t say anything.” She looked up at the crow, returning to land nearby.

“Crow, take a rest,” Papa Astra said without looking.

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

“We will have to rebuild. But… I do not think any of us are experienced with construction.” He thought. “We will discuss it. And praise the princesses. Our money and important texts are in a vault outside the house. Those should be undamaged.”

“And what can we do to help?” Rarity asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything. No one is hurt—thank Celestia. I am sure your friend would appreciate it if you returned to her.”

“Are you sure?” Twilight asked.

“We can send for someone, or something,” Rainbow said.

“Actually, you are in contact with the princesses, are you not, Twilight Sparkle?” Papa Astra asked.

“Um, yes. What do you need?” Twilight asked.

“If you could ask Princess Luna to send us some airships, we would be grateful. Three should do.” He looked over the remains of the villa and sighed. “I quite doubt we’ll be staying in Trottingham.”

“Of course,” Twilight said. “I’ll write the letter as soon as I get back to the ship. Oh… uh, sorry. Can we get a guide through your maze?”

He nodded and turned to a nearby maid outfit. “Take these ponies through the maze, and return to me.”

They followed behind the maid suit reluctantly, leaving the Astra family behind with its destroyed house.

As soon as they were on the ship, Twilight sent a letter to Princess Luna, asking for a trio of airships, not going into too much detail regarding the villa’s destruction. When they returned to the vineyard, Octavia was addressing a crowd of workers, at the front of which stood Vintage. She looked back briefly at them, and they stayed on board while she spoke to them. She did so with authority and calm, and they were silently impressed at her ability to hold the crowd’s attention.

After they dispersed, Vintage waited below, and Octavia went to them; for a moment, the fight was forgotten. “Are the Astras okay?”

“The villa’s destroyed,” Rarity said. “But no one is hurt.”

“Do they need help still?”

“Papa Astra said not,” Twilight said. “They just need to calm down, get their money and texts out of some vault and… well, rebuild I guess. But I have no idea how they’re going to do that.”

“Ah say we get out of here before anythin’ else happens,” Applejack said.

“Yes, I agree,” Octavia said, and Applejack frowned at her.

“What about the mountains?” Rainbow asked.

“What about them?”

“Well, think about it. If we fix up the mountains, at least some of them, it’ll be a lot easier to get the aqueducts back in working order.”

“That’s not a bad point,” Twilight said.

“Sandoz and her friends are going to run out of water soon,” Rarity said, nodding. “But if we can get those mountains back together, it’ll make their jobs much easier.”

“Yeah, you got a point there, Rainbow,” Applejack said.

“One more night in Trottingham?” Pinkie asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Twilight said. She looked around. “I hope Vintage is okay with us staying again.”

“I get the feeling she will be,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, she seems to really like you,” Applejack said.

“We’ve gotten to be pretty good friends,” Twilight said.

“No, Twilight, she means really like you,” Rainbow said.

“Yeah, we’re… wait, hold on. You mean…” She looked back at Vintage, still waiting, and lowered her voice. “Do you really think she thinks that about me?”

“You’re the only one she ever hugs!” Pinkie said.

“And she spent an awful lot of time with you when you were recovering,” Rarity said.

“Ah wouldn’t be surprised if she has a crush on you, Twi,” Applejack said.

“Darling, if that’s the case, you need to let her know that you’re not into mares right away, so you don’t accidentally lead her on.”

“But we’ll be leaving tomorrow anyway,” Twilight said. She blushed and quieted. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“If I may interject here,” Octavia said, ignoring a sour look from Rarity. “Based on personal experience, it is always better to be honest about your sexual persuasion very soon in a relationship, even if you do not think that it will go anywhere. Things like that tend to return to you unexpectedly.”

“I know, I know,” Twilight said. “But I’m… well, I’m afraid. I’ve never had somepony be interested in me before, and Vintage really helped me a lot. The thought of hurting her like that… I don’t know.”

“You will hurt her more by allowing her to think that she has a chance with you.”

“Yeah.”

“What persuasion are you, Octavia?” Rainbow asked.

“I prefer mares,” Octavia said.

“Really?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yes.”

Pinkie laughed merrily. “Octavia, I didn’t know you were gay!”

“I discovered my sexual identity long after I had left.”

“That’s so cool! I’m bisexual, personally, ‘cause, I mean, why limit yourself with one half of the population when there’s an entirely different other half out there to—”

“Pinkie, please,” Applejack said. “None of us wanna hear this.”

“Whatever, AJ; you’re just jealous.”

“Jealous, sure.”

“Oh!” Twilight cried. Her horn was alight, and a piece of paper flew out. “I got a letter.” Before she could open it, another appeared. “Uh oh. Two at once; I bet I know who they’re from.” She unrolled the first one. “Howdy everypony. Glad to see you’re enjoying yourselves in Trottingham; I took the liberty of preparing your reception. Did you have fun with it?”

“The barrel golem and that ship,” Rainbow said.

“Yeah, I guess so. Anyway. Na-na-na-na-na, did you have fun with it? My congratulations to Fluttershy on being the first to find her Element—oh, he didn’t capitalize ‘Element’ here. Uh, good luck with the others; I’ve hidden them quite well, as I’m sure you know by now. Give my regards to Vanilla Cream when you see him; it’ll be soon. Then he wrote ‘hahaha’ a bunch, again, and signed his name.”

“Twi, we really need to do somethin’ ‘bout him watchin’ us. It’s unnervin’,” Applejack said.

“I know, but I don’t know what we can do.” She unfurled the next scroll and read it. “Dearest Twilight Sparkle—oh yeah, this is Princess Luna all right—I am pleased beyond measure that you have already found one of the Elements. See, she knows to capitalize ‘Element’.”

“Keep readin’, egghead,” Rainbow said.

“Right. I am concerned, and, I confess, angered that the Astra family has lost its villa; at least no one was harmed. I am commissioning three airships as I write this, to pick up the family. Do not worry about payment; consider it a royal favor.” Twilight smiled. “Well that’s nice. I have been watching your progress in Equestria as closely as I am able, and I must commend you all on your work thus far, especially in these past few days. Still, I must impress upon you the importance of haste; as I’m sure you can see, Discord has been spreading his influence across the country. As time passes, he only grows stronger, and I believe he will be ready to mobilize his army again very soon. Perhaps before next month is out. Oh goodness, before next month! That’s only a few weeks!”

“Keep going.”

“Right. Perhaps before next month is out. I have taken the necessary precautions, but I still fear the worst. My eternal blessing upon all of you. In love and friendship, Princess Luna. Here’s a P.S. P.S.: My sister is still away on diplomatic duties with the griffons, but she should return in a few days. Your correspondence will continue with her at that time.” She set the letter down. “And that’s it.”

“We need to hurry,” Applejack said.

Octavia opened her mouth to object, but did not. Instead, they walked back down the gangplank. Vintage, smiling, joined them, leaning over briefly to give Twilight a quick hug.

They went into her house and sat around the living room, and Rarity filled her in on what happened at the villa.

“So that’s where that thing came from,” Vintage said. “I was just doing some light reading, and this horrible, monster bird came flying in like a bat out of Tartarus. Next thing I know, Octavia’s yelling for me.”

They all looked at Octavia, some hostilely. “I saw that the ship was over the vineyard. The workers needed evacuation, and the crow was the fastest way to get here.”

“Wasn’t that scary?” Fluttershy asked. “Um… riding it like that?”

“Incredibly so. It is an experience that I would not care to repeat; however, I did what I had to do.”

“As it turns out, that ship flew away before we needed to get out,” Vintage said, giving Octavia an affectionate smile that she did not return.

“Yes, thankfully.”

“So you decided to ride that giant machine-monster just like that?” Applejack asked.

“No one else was doing anything. I had to act.”

“So dangerous,” Rarity said softly, shaking her head.

“Our ship was too far away, and too slow besides.”

“No, you did the right thing,” Twilight said. “And it’s good that you did. We were all too distracted.”

“Even if it wasn’t necessary,” Rainbow said.

Octavia nodded and looked at them. Her gaze was impenetrable, her lips tight. Her purple eyes were flat and joyless in the yellowing light.

“Soooo… what do we do now? We gotta wait ‘til tomorrow,” Applejack said.

“I am going for a walk,” Octavia said, rising. She went to the door without looking back.

“Anypony up for some cards?” Rarity asked.

Octavia went to the border between the vineyard and the tent area outside, passing the embedded remains of the bridge as she went. She sat down at a fence post and looked to the mountains, their next target. It was strange for her to think that only earlier that day she had been deep inside one of them.

She frowned and picked up a twig in her magic. She crushed it and let it drop. “Ungrateful nags. Twice today I have taken action when they did not, and I am the outcast. I should have known something like this would happen.” She remembered Manehattan—her separation from them, after a similar fight—and Canterlot before that.

“I could have stayed home. I could have told them to go on without me, and tried to find a way to pay my bills.” She lay on her back and stared into the sky. The post put a narrow shadow over her chest. “And then wait. I would wait, months, a year, longer, until the trains were running again. And I would return. Not Octavia the Guide and Savior, or even the Gorgeous and Magnificent. Back to that house.” She closed her eyes, and the scene from her dreams filled her mind. “And so I would remain, until I died.”

She opened her eyes and grabbed the post in her magic. Giving an easy tug, she ripped it from the ground to let it float above her face. “Or… I could not have done that. I could have offered to join these strangers on their journey. I could have shown them what I am capable of—what I have always been capable of. I could help them, and lead them when they cannot lead themselves.” She let her magic course up and down the post, feeling it; she applied a little pressure, and it snapped in half. Easy. “And instead of running away when I am upset, I can be proud of my accomplishments, and not let them tarnish them with their closed-mindedness.”

She flung the pieces of post away and looked back at the mountains. “Or I could leave them behind and find my own way.” She turned at the sound of hoofsteps nearby; it was Fluttershy, slinking toward her. She didn’t speak until Fluttershy was standing right in front of her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her eyes glistened, and her wings were tight and trembling across her sides.

“You have done no wrong by me.”

“I know. I’m apologizing for Applejack and Rarity.”

“They can apologize themselves.”

“Um… no, they can’t. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re still afraid.”

Octavia looked long at her, and sat down. “I do not understand.”

“They’re afraid of the future. They’re afraid of what’s coming. They’re… well, they’re afraid they can’t handle it. You were right, you know.”

“Was I?”

“What you said, about us running out of excuses. About… um, if we can’t step up to the task… that we might as well go home and wait for Discord to take over. That was all right.”

“And this scares them.”

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

Octavia thought. “I could have stayed home.” “Yes.”

“And that’s why they’re so mad. You make it look so easy… too easy. They’re still adjusting.”

“What am I supposed to do? I cannot make the changes softer.”

“Oh, no, I’m not saying that at all.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Fluttershy cringed away, but kept her eye contact. “I’m just letting you know why they’re so upset.”

“I see.” She sighed and grabbed a pebble in her magic. She toyed with it as she spoke. “There is nothing that I can do about that. I cannot make them understand their position; they must come to that conclusion on their own.” She looked at Fluttershy. “Must I endure their displeasure until they realize what is truly expected of them?”

“Um… maybe you can try… um, that is, if you want to… um, you can try to be a little nicer.”

Her mind clenched and darkened, and she suddenly threw the pebble away with an angry sneer. “I knew it. I knew that my personality would come up. I am sure I am expected to talk about my past as well.”

“Um… well, we’d like to help…”

“Never.” She approached Fluttershy, who backed away. “With the way I have been treated, they are lucky that I am not leaving them behind.”

“Octavia, please. We just want you to be happy.”

“No, what you want is for me to smile and laugh. You want another brainless companion, to offer jokes and directions.”

“No, that’s not it.”

She turned away with a snarl and ripped another post from its spot. “Then what is it? What am I expected to do?” She snapped it in half and threw the pieces into the distance. They landed with dusty clicks, and when she continued, her voice was an indignant shout. “Shall I stand by and let others get hurt, because you are too scared to act? Shall I pretend that all is right in the world, so Twilight does not cry at night?”

“Please, stop.”

She looked back at Fluttershy, who met her eyes with tears in her own.

“We don’t want any of that, Octavia. We know how bad things are, we really do. Princess Luna says so in her letters. I don’t know about Applejack and Rarity—maybe they do want you to change. Maybe you’re just not compatible. But the rest of us just want you to stay how you are.” She sniffled, but her voice was not as feeble as it was when she approached. “I know you’re right. I know you did what you had to do, and I respect that. So does Rainbow Dash, and Twilight, and even Pinkie.”

She breathed deeply, returning to calm. “It is not Fluttershy’s fault. It is no one’s fault. We are all suffering.” “I do not want them to take their discomfort out on me.”

“I’m sure they won’t anymore. You just have to tell them how you feel.”

“They will not believe me. They do not think me capable of feeling.”

“Octavia, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy paused, debating whether to continue. “Yes?”

“I do not want to talk to them right now. Please understand. I will tell them how I feel… later.”

“Oh… okay. Do you… do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay.” She turned to walk away, and Octavia watched her go.

“Thank you for coming to talk to me, though.”

Fluttershy whipped around, her tears replaced by a nervous smile. She slowly walked back. “I just wanted to help. You said you did what you had to do for those ponies. Well, I did what I had to do for a friend in need.” She took a tentative step forward, then closed the distance and wrapped Octavia in a soft hug. “You do know we consider you a friend, right?”

“Yes. I suppose I do.”

Octavia stayed outside until nighttime, ignoring her hunger, thirst, and fatigue. She watched the sun fade behind the edge of the world, and watched the moon rise. She practiced her magic, tossing stones and creating small shields to catch them. She listened to the crickets and birds, and lay in the grass beside an empty tent. Many had been taken down, but not all.

When she heard her friends’ voices in the distance, she stood and looked for them. Their silhouettes appeared near the ship, which they boarded, one by one.

“This ship is beautiful,” Vintage said. “You got it in Manehattan, you said?”

“Yup!” Pinkie cried. “The city that never sleeps!”

“How did you afford it? It must have been a fortune.”

“It’s… complicated,” Rarity said, and they all nodded.

“Manehattan is a complicated city,” Vintage said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Rainbow said under her breath.

“Vintage, darling, I’m terribly sorry, but can you excuse us?” Rarity asked. “We need to go below for something.”

“All of us?” Applejack asked.

“Yes, dear. All of us. Except you, Twilight; you’re still recovering, I know.”

“I can go with you,” Twilight said. “I feel fine, really.”

“No, darling, I insist.”

“Uh, yeah, Twilight; we can handle this,” Rainbow said, getting up.

“Wait, I wanna stay up here,” Pinkie said.

“No ya don’t,” Applejack said, making to move to the hatch with the others.

When they had gone, Vintage turned to Twilight. “That was weird.”

“They can be a little strange,” Twilight said. “But I like them.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Twilight looked at her, uncertain. She could usually get along with Vintage just fine, but in the artificial silence that her friends had created, she felt awkward. “Maybe it’s just the night.”

“Are you okay, Twilight? You seem a little out-of-it right now.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said with a reassuring smile. “How about you? Are you okay?”

Vintage gave a halfhearted smile, locking eyes with Twilight. “I wish you weren’t going so soon. I’m… really going to miss you.”

“Aw, Vintage, I’m going to miss you too. You’ve been a great friend this entire time.”

“You too, Twilight. It… it gets lonely on the vineyard. I don’t have many friends out here.”

“What about that green stallion? Loose Threads.”

“Oh, he’s not a friend, just an employee. A good employee, but… that’s it. You know, I haven’t had anyone to just talk to in a long time. No one I can share my feelings with, no one who seems to understand me. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“I… do, Vintage.”

“And I had thought that was changing when you came along.”

“We can still be friends, though. It’ll just be over a distance.”

“I know, I know. But it’s different. You’ll be so far away, and… no amount of letters will take away the loneliness of the nights out here.”

“I’m sorry, Vintage.”

“Twilight?” Her voice had softened, and Twilight followed her example.

“Yes?”

She waited, as if choosing her next words carefully. “I know I’ve only known you for a short time now. So maybe this is inappropriate—but I don’t think so. At least, um, not after what you and I shared. I feel like I could tell you anything.”

“Of course.” She looked away, blushing. “What do you want to say?”

“It’s… difficult. I don’t really know how to say it. It’s just… I feel different with you. I feel like a different pony. Before you showed up, I was just trudging through the days with no real sense of hope or accomplishment. But then you came along and… fixed everything. You healed the city, you healed the earth, and, well, you healed me a little too.” She scooted a little closer to Twilight. “I don’t know. I guess I’m rambling, but… you’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Twilight. I think… well, I think… I might be in love with you.”

Twilight blinked, and Vintage looked up at her hopefully. “I… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I felt I should be honest with you. I-if you’re not ready for a relationship, I understand. But I wanted you to know.”

Twilight could see her eyes shining in the moonlight, and tried to think of a response. Instead, she just moved closer and allowed Vintage to hug her. “Vintage,” she said after a while, “I’m so sorry, but I… I’m not ready to take that kind of step with you. With anyone. Especially with the job that I have to do.”

Vintage surprised her by laughing quietly. “It’s okay, Twilight. I knew you might not be in the same place as me emotionally. Besides, it’s what you said; you have to keep traveling, and I can’t stop you from that.”

Twilight smiled, and Vintage smiled back; she felt guilty at her relief from telling the truth. “Thank you for understanding.”

“You’re welcome… Twilight. Um, would you mind if I… um, if you don’t, that’s fine, but… could I… um… here.” Before Twilight could react, she leaned over and pecked her on the lips; Twilight flinched, and immediately regretted it. Vintage looked at her with shame. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I just had to… I’m sorry.” She buried her face in her hooves. “I’m so mixed up right now.”

Twilight draped a comforting hoof over her withers. “It’s okay, Vintage. It’s okay.”

“Please don’t think badly of me.”

“I don’t, I promise,” Twilight said kindly. She rubbed Vintage’s back, and the earth pony leaned in, crying. She held her close, and Vintage shook with a deep breath. Only two days ago, their positions had been reversed. “Did she feel this awkward about comforting me?”

She mumbled into Twilight’s coat. “Thank you for being so supportive, Twilight.”

“Any time, Vintage. You’re… you’re a special pony.”

Vintage broke away, beaming, and Twilight weakly returned the expression. “Did you… um, like it though?”

Twilight froze. She could hear Rarity in her head. “Tell her, Twilight. Don’t let this go.” She smiled, her words sticking in her throat. “I did.”

Vintage laughed, her face breaking into a relieved, joyful grin. “Good. Oh, that’s very good. I’m sorry for being so forward; I had to know, though.”

“It’s okay, Vintage. I really did like it.”

Vintage smiled, and leaned in a second time. Their lips met, longer and softer, and Twilight closed her eyes in spite of herself. When they broke apart, Vintage tilted awkwardly away. “Um, I should probably get back home. I have some work to do still.”

“Okay, Vintage.” Her voice sounded wrong in her ears, the weight of the secret compressing it. “We both have some things to think about anyway.”

Vintage nodded and hesitated. “Well, see you later.” She hugged Twilight once more before leaving the airship.

When she was gone, Twilight stayed where she was. Relief and frustration tangled inside her, fighting, each one surfacing for just a second before turning over for the other. She could still feel Vintage’s lips on her own, wet—too wet. She rubbed them with a hoof and went to the hatch. She pushed a cabin door open, at first meeting resistance and then seeing Rainbow backing up hastily; Rarity sat on the bed, tending to her hooves. “Uh, we’re done.”

“How’d it go, darling? Did you tell her?” Rarity asked quietly.

Twilight looked down, shame coloring her face. “No.”

Rarity sighed. “Why not, dear?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared to admit your sexuality? Geez, Twilight, I didn’t think you were that prudish,” Rainbow said.

“I just didn’t want to hurt her.”

Rarity shook her head. “I hope that we never run into her again, for her sake.”

Behind them, a door creaked open, and the others came out into the hall. “Well?” Applejack said.

“She didn’t tell her,” Rarity said, and the group collectively sighed.

When Octavia returned to the ship, everyone was settling in for the night, except Twilight, who took the first half of the night watch. They met on the deck without speaking, and Twilight shook her hoof. She didn’t know why she did it. Octavia felt foreign in the darkness.

While Twilight leaned against the gunwale to watch the empty mountains, Octavia hauled her cello out onto the deck.

“I haven’t seen you play that in a while,” Twilight said.

“I have been distracted.” She played a scale and sighed, putting her bow down. “Very distracted.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Yes. How have you been holding up?”

“Oh, okay.” She didn’t say it, but she was actually relieved that Octavia asked. “Better. Vintage helped me a lot, as I said.”

“That is good.”

“I’m just worried.”

“About?”

Twilight sighed. “Same old stuff. The future, Discord, all of us.”

“If it helps, I too am worried. If today is an indication of how things will be going for us, then we are in greater trouble than I originally thought.”

“Yeah.” She felt exposed and weak on the deck with Octavia, nothing to say. “Uh, that was a really cool thing you did earlier today.”

“I only did what I had to do.”

“Still.” She turned to face the mountain slopes, where Sandoz lived. “Will you play me something?”

“What would you like to hear?”

“Whatever you feel like. Whatever’s in your heart.”

“Sure.” Octavia ran her bow over the cello, and began a slow, mournful song.

They woke the next morning, a little earlier than they wanted, at Rainbow’s noisome prodding. “About time,” she said glumly. “I was getting lonely.”

“Sorry, Rainbow, but that’s how the watch is,” Applejack said.

They had a light breakfast and took off; Twilight watched the vineyard shrink, feeling bad for Vintage, who would wake up with them gone for good. Before long, the vineyard was out of sight and they were floating over the mess of broken aqueducts, and Applejack was searching for a spot to touch down.

“Look at these mountains. Twi, do you think you an’ Pinkie can handle this all in one spell?”

“In one?” Twilight chuckled in spite of herself. “Goodness, no. We’re only going to tackle the first couple.”

“Oh, good.” She leaned out a little, and then turned the wheel abruptly, bringing them partially about. “Whoops! Almost missed it.” They descended slowly into a crevasse between the mountains, just in view of the aqueducts. A large, flat, circular covering stared up at them, its surface reflecting the dull morning light.

As they floated between the mountains, the last remains of Trottingham slipped out of sight. They were already away. A cold breeze picked up, and they drifted gently away from the covering, toward a large stack of fallen boulders. “Let’s just thank Celestia he didn’t hide any Elements up in here,” Rainbow said. “He didn’t, did he?”

“I seriously doubt he would put two together like that,” Rarity said, but activated her spell anyway.

They landed in a small depression by the covering’s side, and while Twilight and Pinkie trotted out to its center, everyone else stayed behind on the ship.

“So, Octavia…” Applejack started.

Octavia looked at her disinterestedly. “Yes?”

“Ah… uh, that is… how d’ya feel ‘bout goin’ to Appleloosa next?”

“That is fine.”

“Good.” She looked ahead, but quickly shook her head, growling. “No, no, Ah can’t do it. Ah’m sorry, Ah gotta talk ‘bout this. Octavia, why’d you have to do that?”

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“You know exactly what, missy. Crushin’ that critter like you did.”

“I saw no other way to dispatch it as easily.”

Applejack sighed and looked at Rarity for support. When she spoke, her voice was softer. “Ah just… ya freak me out a little, is all. First yer givin’ us this warnin’ ‘bout things to come, then ya turn ‘round an’ stomp a monster like it ain’t nothin’. Meanwhile we’re all shakin’ in our horseshoes. An’ ya make it look so easy.”

“That’s the part that gets me, dear,” Rarity said. “It’s how effortless you make this all look. Riding that crow… thing yesterday was just the icing on the cake.”

Octavia looked to Fluttershy, who gave an encouraging smile. “I see. Then let me explain something, if I may.”

“Go right ahead,” Applejack said.

“I understand your concerns. I understand that this all seems like too much for you. It looks like that for me too.”

“But—”

“I was raised to value work and action above all else, and to despise idleness. For me, standing by, in any circumstance, is unthinkable, even if I am out of my depth. Which, yesterday, I thought that I was. I had no idea what I was going to do if destroying the platform in the cave did not work. All I knew was that I had to try something.”

“But you make it look so easy,” Applejack repeated.

“That, I think, is merely a product of my serious demeanor.” She looked Rarity in the eye. “Serious, not insane.”

“Er, yes. I’m sorry about that,” Rarity said.

“Me too,” Applejack said. “Yer a mystery, an’ when you make us look so… what’s the word?”

“Ineffectual.”

“Yeah, ineffectual, it hurts. We’re the heroes, not you, ya know?”

“Would you like me to step back?” Octavia asked.

“No, never,” Rarity said. “I think it’s very clear at this point that we need you.”

“It’s not you that needs to step back,” Rainbow said. “It’s us that need to step up.”

“Yeah, that,” Applejack said. “Ah’m sorry Ah yelled at ya. ‘Twasn’t right, accusin’ you of those things. Ah hope you can forgive me.”

Octavia looked at her, and at Rarity, who looked away. “Friends sometimes fight. You are absolved.”

“Um… I’m sorry too,” Rarity said.

“I know.”

When the spell was over, they took off, ascending past the mountaintops to survey the changes. Though the chain was still broken in the far distance, the first two mountains had been healed, their attached aqueducts crushed together and, in places, even worse off than before.

“Tell me about Appleloosa,” Octavia said.

Applejack smiled warmly. “Well, it was founded by my brother, Braeburn, just last year. He was the one who planted the apple orchard there that keeps the whole town runnin’.”

“So it is a small town?”

“It’s even smaller than Ponyville, if you can believe that. But Ah’m sure it’ll get bigger eventually. They have a boomin’ economy.”

“Probably not at the moment, though,” Rarity said.

“Er, yeah. Not right now.”

“Tell me about your cousin,” Octavia said.

“Braeburn? Well, he’s a hoofful, that’s fer sure. He’s my younger cousin by a few years, but he’s one of the most mature ponies in our family.”

“He would have to be, to settle a town all by himself.”

“You got that right. He’s a nice stallion, really friendly, helpful an’ all that.”

“He sounds like a wonderful pony.”

“Yeah, Ah’d sure say so. Why the interest in my cousin, Octavia?”

“No particular reason. I am more curious about the town. How far away is it, by the way?”

“Oh, five or six days. ‘Bout five thousand miles.”

“At least we won’t be passing over the forest this time,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, we can land whenever we want,” Rainbow said, looking over the gunwale. “Let’s clear these mountains first, though.”

“Octavia, have you met any famous ponies?” Rarity asked.

“Of course. I am rather surprised that you should ask me this, though,” Octavia said.

“Oh, I’m just curious. I mean, you yourself are very famous—I remember approaching you in Canterlot. I was quite nervous.”

“You never told anyone where you were going, did you?” Twilight asked.

“There was no one to tell.”

“But what about your fans?” Rainbow asked. “They’re gonna be freaking out that you’re gone, if they’re not already.”

Octavia smiled faintly. “I suppose that is true. Funny. It never crossed my mind.”

“So who else did you know?” Rarity asked insistently.

“Oh, let us see here. I have played a few concerts for the benefit of Hoity Toity, the fashion critic. He is rather stuck-up for my tastes. I was once part of an ensemble that opened for Sapphire Shores.”

“I didn’t know she had classical bands open for her,” Fluttershy said.

“I think it was a one-time gimmick.”

“I’ve met Sapphire Shores,” Rarity said. “She’s quite… interesting.”

“I like her. She knows how to run a stage.”

“Did you ever meet Photo Finish?”

“She once took photographs of me.”

Rarity gasped. “Oh, darling, what magazine did you appear in?”

“I do not remember.”

“But surely you have copies somewhere.”

“I may have a copy at my house.”

“What ‘bout royalty? You have contact with the princesses quite a lot, don’t you?” Applejack asked.

“I am not on informal terms with either of them, by any means, but I am more familiar with them than most citizens. They both sent me a card on my birthday.”

“Oh, that’s so nice,” Fluttershy said.

“I was genuinely impressed.”

“Hey, if we’re talking about birthdays, I’ve got a trick for you,” Rainbow said. “Watch this. Twilight, what’s Celestia’s birthday?”

“October nineteenth,” Twilight said without looking back.

“What about Luna?”

“November fourth.”

“Like a machine,” Rainbow chuckled.

“What’s your birthday, Octavia?” Rarity asked.

“January seventeenth,” Octavia said.

“Crap.” They looked up quickly at Applejack, who looked out over the front of the ship with a sour expression. “Uh, y’all might wanna get ready. We’ve got a visitor comin’.”

They all crowded the front and looked out, seeing instantly what she meant: the white stallion, Vanilla Cream, walking on the air out in front of them.

“Oh, oh no,” Fluttershy said, running to the hatch at the back and disappearing below the deck.

“What does he want?” Rainbow said.

“Well, he did say he would be coming back,” Twilight said.

“That I did,” he said pleasantly, suddenly standing on the prow; Applejack jumped back with a yelp, and he laughed. “Oh, Applejack, you’ll need more mettle than that for the coming times.”

“You’re not covered in darkness like last time!” Pinkie said.

“Hm? Oh, goodness, you’re right. Please, forgive me.” He smiled apologetically, and the air slowly dimmed, until they were standing in semidarkness that defied the sun on their side.

“You didn’t use your horn,” Twilight said.

“This old thing? It is only an affectation, fitting with my pony body. I didn’t bother using it; you all know what I am anyway.”

“What are you doin’ here? Can’t you leave us alone?” Applejack asked.

“My my, manners, please. In case you’ve forgotten, I am here only to offer my humble services.”

“We don’t believe you.”

“Yeah, you say you’re against Discord, but how do we know?” Rainbow asked.

He regarded her for a moment, thinking. “Hm. Perhaps an exchange of information will earn me your trust, then. I believe you’ve run into a flying ship before, have you not? Not an airship, but a pirate ship? No balloon?”

“We’ve seen it a few times,” Applejack said warily.

“I happen to know that that ship is currently en route to your destination, Appleloosa. For what reasons, I don’t know, but you can rest assured that if you go there right now, you’ll be in for a very rude welcome.”

“How do we know you’re not just making that up?” Rainbow asked.

Vanilla rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, come now, what more do you want?”

“Point us toward an Element,” Twilight said.

“Now why in the world would I know where my master Discord hid your Elements? Besides, I cannot disclose that kind of information. I’m afraid my binding forbids it.”

“What sort of services are you offering us?” Octavia asked.

“Have you already forgotten what I told you on our first meeting?”

“I mean specifically. I know you say you will enhance our magical powers.”

“If you’re asking for what kind of magic I’ll be giving you, I’m afraid I don’t know. I have made no plans in that regard.”

“You’re gonna improvise our magic?” Rainbow cried. “That’s crazy!”

“I could always leave you to your own devices,” Vanilla said smoothly. “I’m sure Discord would appreciate that.”

“Okay, okay, we’re sorry. It’s a lot to take in, is all.”

“I can understand that,” he said pleasantly. “But we’ve talked enough. Are you interested?”

“We are,” Octavia said. “At least, I am.”

He smiled. “Ah, Octavia, your reaction doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He bowed and smiled, his clear, blue eyes gleaming happily. “Then you have engaged my services.” He looked up at them. “Twilight, if you would please, step forward.”

Twilight gasped. “Me? But… I mean, does it have to be me?”

“I would volunteer to take her place, if she is afraid,” Octavia said.

“That’s noble of you, Octavia, but it’s not open for debate,” Vanilla said. “Twilight will be the first.”

“Well… what exactly are you going to do to my magic?” Twilight asked.

“I’m only going to strengthen it.”

“Will my current magic be affected in any way?”

He smiled. “No. No side effects, caveats, corollaries, exceptions, or contracts. All I do is cast my spell over you and wait a few minutes.”

“Will I be able to control my own magic?”

“Now that’s an odd question to ask.”

“I’ve read about deals like this before,” Twilight said, narrowing her eyes.

“Ah, I see. I’m actually gratified to hear you say that; caution like that will prove useful. Yes, you, and only you, can control your own magic, always. And it will stay with you permanently.”

“Permanently, huh? How will my body be affected?”

“You’ll feel some sort of sensation while I’m casting the spell, but nothing after that.” He donned a serious expression. “I promise you, you’ll still be the same Twilight. Same body, same mind, same characteristics, same set of loyalties and priorities.”

“…I just don’t know if I trust you,” she said at last.

“What cause do I have to deceive? My goal—one of them—is to hinder Discord as much as my commitment to him allows. Why should I want to complicate the matter with you?”

“I guess…” She thought for a moment. “Go ahead. Cast your spell on me.”

“Before I begin, I feel I should remind you of my duty to our enemy.”

“To ‘vex’ us,” Octavia said.

“I will cause no harm,” Vanilla said quickly. “But I am bound to complicate things.”

“We remember,” Twilight said quietly.

“Then let’s not delay,” he said with a wide smile. His horn glowed, and Twilight was enveloped in a pale silver aura; her eyes rolled up into their sockets as she lifted off the deck, limp. For a minute, they stayed that way, he holding her above the deck, her friends watching with quiet concern. “What she feels is not my decision; it depends entirely on the way the magic mixes,” he said conversationally. He glanced at Applejack. “Bearing that in mind, you might be interested to know that Twilight is currently experiencing the most intense pain of her life. She’s not reacting because of my spell, and that’s good, because if she could, she’d probably be trying to rip her own horn off right now.”

They all gasped behind him, and Fluttershy, who had crept out from below when no one was looking, approached him sternly. “How dare you! You never warned her about that!”

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Rarity cried, running to him.

“If I stop now, she will die,” he said. “Besides, she won’t remember any of it once I’m done. She’ll just think she blacked out for a few minutes.”

“But yer torturin’ her right now!” Applejack cried.

“The pain is entirely incorporeal; when she wakes up, it will be like nothing happened at all.”

They glared at him silently while he finished his spell, and gently lowered Twilight back to the deck; she opened her eyes a few seconds later, looking around.

“Is it done?” she asked, and he helped her up.

“Finished. How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Do you remember anythin’ at all, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Nothing. I felt his magic surrounding me, then it was like I blinked, and here I am. Did I do anything?”

“Nothing,” Rainbow said.

“He said you were—”

“Not now, Pinkie,” Rarity said sternly.

Vanilla looked slowly over the edge of the deck. “I’m afraid I must take my leave now. I’ve stayed too long already; I don’t want Discord to get wise to my machinations.” He bowed again. “You have received your gift, as promised. I’ll see you all at a later time.”

“Wait,” Twilight said, but he was gone, one moment there and one moment not, the darkness gone as well.

“What were you going to ask him?” Octavia asked.

“I just want to know what he did.” She lit her horn for a minute. “I don’t feel any different.” She lifted a saddlebag from across the deck. “Feels exactly the same as always.”

“Ah don’t like how easy he made you black out there,” Applejack said.

“And you’re sure you didn’t feel anything?” Pinkie asked.

“No, not that I can remember,” Twilight said, furrowing her brow. She walked to the back and opened the hatch. “I guess I’ll have to do some experimenting. And reading.”

“Reading. Of course,” Rainbow said, rolling her eyes.