Applejack had the airship swinging away from Furnace Creek inside an hour after Pinkie and Rainbow returned from foraging for fresh food in the nearby wood. They returned with saddlebags overflowing with wild berries and mushrooms, and they dried the morning dew off them by placing them in a fat circle around the active torch, like a primitive shrine.

“Bye Furnace Creek! You were good to us!” Pinkie called, leaning over the railing. “So how long ‘til Moondrop?”

“Long,” Twilight said simply. “And between us and it, there’s only a few villages. Girls, I know we’re excited about all this new food, but we still need to be careful. According to this map, the nearest place to restock is four or five days away.”

“Time enough to prepare for the final battle,” Rarity said, brushing her hair as she looked out over the diminishing forest.

“I have a spell to dispel shields now,” Twilight said. “So he won’t be able to just sit there and watch us flounder, like last time.”

“How embarrassing,” Rainbow said.

“Better to learn an’ live than to die magnificently, Ah say,” Applejack said.

“I have a question,” Vinyl said. Her voice was almost lost in the torch’s discharge, and Twilight had to lean in close to hear.

“She wants to know what we’re going to do about Vanilla,” Twilight said.

“Do we think he’s going to be a problem?” Fluttershy asked.

“He will if Discord tells him to,” Rarity said. “And he will, if he has enough time to prepare for us.”

“I personally think we should release him from his binding, if we can.”

“Yer talkin’ crazy. You’d let the likes of him loose?” Applejack asked. “Ah say we send him back to Tartarus, at the very least.”

“He’s no threat to us without Discord’s hold on him.”

“We don’t know that,” Twilight said. “I actually agree with Applejack. We should try to put him back where he came from, if we can do anything at all. And I’m not sure we can.”

“Lemme guess, that kind of magic would be more Luna’s thing, right?” Rainbow asked.

“Well, Dash, since you so kindly asked, it is. But more than that, he’s from Tartarus; banishing him would not be the same as banishing anything from up here.”

“Well, at least you’ve got a couple weeks to read up on it,” Rarity said.

“Or is that too hard too?” Rainbow asked.

“Geez, you’ve got a chip on your shoulder,” Twilight mumbled. “I’ll do it, I’ll study, but I’m not promising anything. We need to have a plan for if Vanilla stays in it until the end.”

“Severing his ties to Discord, then,” Applejack said. “Somehow.”

“Can we silence Discord?” Vinyl asked.

“Silence him?”

“So he can’t give Vanilla any orders.”

“I like that idea better,” Twilight said, looking at Rainbow with a flash of bitterness. “And yeah, I know how to do that.”

Pinkie laughed.

“Shoulda used it on doc back when you had the chance,” Applejack said.

“He was too gentle a soul,” Twilight said. “I feared for his sensibilities.”

“Well, now his sensibilities are in Canterlot,” Rainbow said. “I bet he’s hitting on some rich pony right now.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Applejack said.

It happened right after lunchtime, when the majority of the crew was lounging, napping, or reading. A tiny patch of white cloud coalesced in the shape of a pony and then dissipated, leaving behind the flawless white coat and blue eyes of Discord’s envoy, the friendly ombudspony who walked as if he were welcome, soundless across the deck, around the torch, and down the stairs to rouse those that needed rousing and frighten those alert enough to see his shadow under their doors.

On his ascension of the stairs, he elected to glide and flick his monochrome tail playfully in their faces, pretending a breeze, though none of them had seen one reach him in their months of erratic partnership.

“You sure have a talent for showing up at inopportune times,” Twilight said.

“Which, in our case, is all times,” Applejack said.

“Sure thing,” Vanilla said, coming to rest beside the torch. “I hoped you’d thank me eventually for all this, but I was wrong. Oh well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rarity asked.

Raising his hooves dramatically, he said, “Meaning I’m done with you all, at least outside my obligatory capacity. I quit. I did what I set out to do, which was empower you. I’ve given you the tools, all I’m willing to give, and now I leave you to it.”

“You’re leaving? Just like that?” Pinkie asked.

“It’s been months, Pinks,” Rainbow said.

“Does that mean it’s harassment only from here on out, and no spells?” Applejack asked. She chuckled. “Not that there’s much of a difference.”

Vanilla flipped his mane prissily and approached Applejack, who stood her ground. He spoke for the entire deck to hear. “I don’t care about you, Applejack.”

“Can we at least talk?” Twilight asked. “We have so many questions.”

“No talking.” He strode back toward the torch. “I’m sure Discord will keep me at your backs just how you suspected I was all along, but that will be all you see of me.” He nodded, his sharp horn pointing right at her face.

“Why?” Twilight asked, stepping forward. “At least tell us that.”

“He didn’t find out about what you were doing, did he?” Fluttershy asked.

“He knows now what he knew from the very beginning, and nothing more,” Vanilla said drily. “I leave because my goal is realized.” He looked into Twilight’s eyes, then Big Mac’s, then Octavia’s. “Why isn’t yours?”

He put his back to them, and through the narrow space between his horn and the torch, those behind saw as the dark smudge that was Draught Castle pulled itself, as if on a conveyor belt, in their direction. The sight was familiar, but not so familiar to not bring a mixture of shocked and frustrated gasps from the ponies. For most, it was more the object of the rushed advance, than the fact of the advance itself; they had seen the castle up close one time, and from far off a few times more, yet knew nothing of what to expect. The single time they had visited, they were repelled outside the first of the three solid walls that kept the structure’s finer shape hidden from outside eyes.

Without noise or ordeal, the ship slowed to its starting speed a quarter mile away from the imposing wall, the tallest of the three concentric stone loops that protected the two-towered castle. No embossment gleamed off the gentle curves, save the evidence of time. It had been a still morning in the skies above Furnace Creek, and that had not changed, but still the castle’s presence seemed to freeze the air, holding all sound out and all breaths in. Birds didn’t fly past, the clouds were still just as the river pieces below. The whole countryside appeared cast in amber, with Draught Castle the giant flaw at its core.

Vanilla, as usual, was nowhere to be seen.

“Back us away, Applejack,” Twilight said quietly. “Nice and slow.”

“Already on it,” Applejack said.

“I am watching for Discord,” Octavia said from the back, where she had stayed for the exchange with Vanilla Cream.

“Me too,” Rainbow said, taking a spot portside.

Applejack, meanwhile, kept her eyes trained on the outer wall’s rim, her concentration split between guiding them away from the castle—a chill ran down her spine as she realized that soon it would be her job to do the precise opposite—and watching for Discord to lope over the top like a guard dog that had jumped its fence.

“Just in case, darling, you said you could dispel shields now?” Rarity asked.

“Yes,” Twilight said.

“Let’s put a mile between us and it, then swing around,” Fluttershy said.

“I see something,” Octavia said. Twilight and Rarity raced to the back and looked. An opaque shadow was scooting across the ground underneath, a simple ovoid chopped up in the long grasses.

“Rarity, get—”

“I know,” Rarity said, crystallizing a shield around their ship.

“If it’s him, Octavia and I will try to chase him off. Applejack, I’ll need you to keep going. Full speed, but only when I say so.” Twilight hated to raise her voice so near the castle.

“Vinyl, come up here,” Fluttershy said, joining the three at the back. Twilight looked at her, but didn’t ask. “You said you were good with lights, right? Do you think you can blind him, if you need to?”

“Umm,” Vinyl murmured. “Never tried to do something like that.”

“But do you think you could?” Rarity asked. “Or a strobe light. You can do that, right?”

“That’ll screw up everything,” Twilight said. “No strobes.”

The shadow angled away and disappeared into a patch of stunted trees.

“He’s going to jump out at us, I know it,” Rarity said.

“I think I can blind him, at least for a little bit,” Vinyl said.

“We should do that after Twilight has dispelled his shield,” Octavia said.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Fluttershy said.

“How’s it going, Applejack?” Twilight asked, not turning around.

“Nervous as anythin’,” Applejack said. “But holdin’ steady.”

“He might just shoot us out of the sky,” Rarity said. “Should we land?”

“We’d be sitting targets,” Twilight said.

“We’re sitting targets right now. We’re moving, what, ten miles per hour? Besides, I don’t want him to hear our engines.”

“Well, based on that shadow down there…” Fluttershy began.

“We can’t jump at every little thing out here,” Twilight said. “Scaring easily can be just as bad as running headlong into danger. Everypony needs to just remain calm. We’ll face each obstacle as it comes.”

“You mean you don’t have a plan?” Fluttershy asked.

“How can I?” she snapped. “Coming here in the first place wasn’t part of any plan any of us had!”

“Hey, I see something,” Rainbow said, her wings braced on the gunwale to let her lean out farther. “I can’t tell if it’s him.”

“Where?” Twilight asked, going to Rainbow’s spot.

“I see it,” Fluttershy said. “It’s glowing.”

Twilight squinted, then saw it, a thread of light weaving in and out of its course parallel to theirs.

“I’m ready,” Rarity said.

“Applejack, we might have company in a second here,” Twilight said. She could hear Big Mac saying “below, below,” and Pinkie’s nervous chatter as the two scurried off the deck.

The thread disappeared in the reflection off a small pond, and Rainbow rushed to the other side while they raked the ground with their eyes.

Twilight studied the land’s topography slowly, focusing on any shadow or shaft of light that seemed unnatural to her—in her state of ready tension, so many were. Her composure, so far, was unbroken, but she didn’t know whether she would be able to hold on to it if Discord were to come out of nowhere. Taking the lead for her friends helped, but the tide of fear inside her did not recede with that fact.

“Are you whistling?” Rarity asked, looking to Octavia.

“Here he comes!” Rainbow yelled, jumping to the deck with her hooves over her head, just as a spear of magic shrieked through the air to slash and clang off Rarity’s shield. It had aimed directly for their balloon.

Above, the spear wheeled and spread, becoming the same brilliant, golden gyre that had attacked Celestia’s shield around the city, until, descending, it landed in the rough form of their enemy on a small cloud that appeared off the ship’s side. There, it reclined and slowly re-formed before Twilight’s eyes.

Discord yawned. “Good to—”

“Shut up!” Twilight cried, taking a quick step forward and igniting her horn in a sudden, intense flash, the magic fueled by adrenaline more than will. Rarity’s shield still rippled, and she stood by the torch with a hoof to her forehead; Discord’s shield, however, crackled and bubbled before evaporating, Twilight’s magenta magic overpowering the gold encasement that kept the draconequus safe and arrogant.

There was a momentary pause, when no one quite knew what to do. “Oh,” Discord said, and let himself fall through the cloud, head before tail like a languid drip of taffy. At the same time, there was a flash below, and a ball of energy zigzagged up at them, exploding in a shower of sparks on Rarity’s shield and wrenching a cry of pain from the white unicorn.

On the other side, Discord shot back upwards, his body a variegated ribbon of brown and yellow, his sides gilded with magic. He stretched longer and longer like a watch chain held from a divine hypnotist’s hooves.

“Twilight, I can’t take much more,” Rarity said, obviously ashamed. She wiped sweat from her brow as Twilight ran to the other side and grabbed Discord’s elongating tail in a ball of magic.

“Full speed, Applejack,” Twilight shouted, trying to yank Discord down. “Get us out of here!”

He strained and wiggled in her grasp, and she had to let him go with a snap and a few more sparks of magic off his tail tip.

Twilight coughed. “He’ll have his shield back up by now. I’ll dispel it again, then hold him for you, Octavia.”

“What about me?” Vinyl asked. Twilight didn’t hear, and Vinyl tapped her. She looked up in time to see Discord curving far off in the opposite band of sky, a huge but slender cedilla under a halo of flashing magic.

Rarity screamed, and with a flash, her shield was broken apart. The magic effervesced as it dissipated, little silver stars lighting on the deck and their heads, simple static electricity. Above, a smaller collection of wan, green stars sizzled and turned over one another, under each a needle-thin tongue of silver flame, only to swiftly scatter and vanish across the deck like mist.

Over Discord’s head, his disc of magic whirred and spun, a catastrophic cartwheel as he sped toward them, closer and closer, faster and faster.

“Applejack!” Octavia shouted, rushing to the gunwale and throwing her first explosion out at him, which, as predicted, glanced off his shield harmlessly. Applejack, dead eyed at the wheel, could not reply.

Twilight, mind racing, turned a quick circle for inspiration to a solution. By sight, she could see that the coming magic attack would put any of their shields under in a single swing. Her eyes stopped on a cable that held the balloon in place, and she sighed. “Sorry about this,” she whispered as she sighted each tether, then the balloon itself.

“Twilight,” Fluttershy said.

“Quiet, and get ready to move.” Her horn, a purple firebrand in her forehead, glowed again, and the tethers untied as one in an air-piercing twang. Outcry filled her numbing ears as she grabbed the bowsprit and rudder—only those, for taking the extreme points on the ship was less magic-intensive than enveloping the entire craft—and then, with a look upward that made her head swim, the balloon, catching it on a sudden rise and tucking it into her magical space, once dedicated only to their luggage. The relief was short-lived. Level, they raced at the ground while Discord’s magic shredded the air over their heads, and Twilight emptied the rest of her will into slowing them down. They had avoided the attack, but were still in free fall.

Applejack’s body slumped and slid against the rails while Rarity screamed and Rainbow, who had instinctively flared her wings at the first sign of falling, raced to catch up to them. Vinyl hunkered, lips moving soundlessly. Twilight’s vision was tunneling, and she could not hear her friends. Keeping the balloon inside her tight magical space, keeping her grip on the points of the airship, and then slowing their fall was all she could handle. They would have to trust that she knew what she was doing.

When they touched down, she fell to the deck and let the balloon expand like an exorcised spirit from her horn, catching it and holding it above them in her telekinesis. Her vision was not returning, but her hearing was, and she could hear her friends slowly realizing what had happened, and then realizing that it had bought them almost no time at all. Discord was diving down on them.

“Off the ship! Off the ship!” Octavia bellowed, racing to put down the ramp.

“We’ll make our stand on the ground,” Rarity said, helping Twilight up and guiding her to the ramp.

Twilight shook her head, even the simple telekinesis hurting her head. “No, not all of us.”

“Darling—”

“Go, go!” Octavia shouted, and Discord bodily slammed into a faint shield, breaking it and flopping off onto the ground like a thrown fish. Rarity’s face was clammy with sweat, and her eyes were unfocused as she helped Twilight down to the grass, where she collapsed.

“Balloon,” Twilight said, letting Vinyl help her back up.

“What about it?” Rainbow gasped, landing beside her.

“I can’t hold on.”

“Reattach the balloon!” Octavia called, her voice echoing faintly in Twilight’s ears. “Applejack!”

“Twilight, let it go,” Applejack called from above. “Fluttershy’s holdin’ on to it fer ya.”

“Twilight,” Discord’s voice mocked from elsewhere. “Twilight?”

“Twilight, can you hear me?” Octavia asked.

Twilight released the last of her magic and let the balloon go, light once again reaching her eyes. She could see many of the others crowding around her, while Fluttershy braced against the gunwale, her eyes fixed upwards, and Applejack once again herself, moving about the deck with quick intent.

“He’s right there,” Rainbow said. “What do we do?”

“Twilight?” Rarity asked.

“I’m out,” Twilight said, weakly shaking her head.

“Me too, mostly.”

“We will head him off,” Octavia said, prodding Vinyl and racing to the ship’s front.

“Can you stand?” Rainbow asked.

“I’m fine,” Twilight said, brushing herself off. Octavia’s explosions rocked through the air a second later, and she heard Applejack shout at her. “Not so close to the ship!”

“I say we lead him away and let them get back into the air, then try to get back on board,” Rarity said.

“That plan sucks,” Rainbow said.

“Better than nothing,” Twilight said, closing her eyes for a second of respite. “Celestia help us.”

“I’m coming too,” Fluttershy said, floating down from the deck. Behind her, Applejack was securing the balloon and checking the torch, and shouted at Big Mac’s head, just visible from where Twilight stood, to get back below. “Rainbow, get back up and spot for them. They’ll need your eyesight to not lose track of us.”

“Heck no, Fluttershy!” Rainbow said. Another blast deafened them, and a flurry of flashes popped form the other side of the ship. Discord cackled.

“No, she’s right,” Twilight said. “This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, I think. Applejack can’t watch us and guide the ship at the same time.”

Rainbow hesitated, but another explosion prompted her to jump up and arc over the rail.

“Take off, go! Watch for us!” Twilight shouted up at Applejack’s face, momentarily hovering over the gunwale, etched with fear. It vanished without a question.

“I can do maybe one more shield, maybe,” Rarity said. “But—”

With a sharp smack of magic on magic, a body careened out from behind the ship to land in an unhurt but breathless heap in a bush. Vinyl hopped up and raced back, her goggles askew.

“Twilight!” Octavia shouted.

Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy ran around to them, chests heaving and backs glistening in the afternoon sun. Octavia, panting, dodged and ducked Discord’s flailing attacks, always backing away but throwing her own explosions at his feet whenever she could. Ball lightning snarled and snapped all around them and from the tips of his talons and horns, little blue sparks that danced and wobbled. In his eyes, there was no glee or playfulness. He moved as if possessed, a mobile come to life, his double and triple-jointed limbs swinging and swiveling at wild, ever-changing angles. Trails of electricity followed the lightning in his fists, larger spheres of energy that strobed and made his mad dance into a mad slideshow. His feet stomped the ground with an off-beat patter.

The ship sighed as it parted from the grass, and Twilight, some of her magic reserves returning, rushed him, her dispel spell already bubbling right behind her horn, achingly conscious and intended, like a response held back. He twirled in place, one arm telescoping out to drag across the ground and catch Octavia, watching from what she thought a safe distance, on the side of the head with a thick, meaty slap. She went down with a breathy cry, and Twilight released her spell, once again breaking his shield apart and leaving him undefended in the fields outside his home.

Twilight jumped to the side, anticipating an attack to come straight for her, and kept hopping toward his unguarded back, trying to conjure something stronger than the bludgeon she had initially planned. She wanted him injured, not insulted.

Rarity cried Twilight’s name as Discord whirled upon her, fire leaping from his paw in a rapid, churning cataract that missed by enough to only singe Twilight’s tail. “Shoot,” she mumbled, her thoughts defaulting back to telekinesis, the magic she most often used. Grabbing his arm, she yanked it back and twisted downward, forcing him to the ground—he had not prepared for that appendage to stretch just then, Twilight thought with a satisfied grin. He skidded across the ground and, with a jerk back, broke free of the spell, but Twilight was ready, catching him with another to pull him forward by the neck. She could see Octavia getting to her hooves with Fluttershy’s help, and the dark anger in Octavia’s eyes. Twilight might be tired, but Octavia was not; she needed to make sure Discord forgot that.

“Twilight, you’re beginning to frustrate me,” Discord growled, breaking free once more with a hair-raising crack, as if each of his many vertebrae were snapping into place. He faced her, and in that instant, Octavia was on him, pummeling him with a chain of explosions that punctuated the air, cushions of sound that seemed to physically press on Twilight’s ear drums as she dashed to the side. Discord was stumbling and stuttering directly to her, shoved rudely by Octavia’s magic, and though he tried to turn back to her, the magic was pouring out too quickly for him to regain his balance. With a final, lower boom that caught him in the middle of his six feet of midsection, Discord’s feet left the grass, pedaling as he hit the ground, the air audibly escaping his lungs.

Octavia did not stop. Everyone watched, frozen, as she jumped onto his chest, hitting him once in the face with a powerful forehoof, then flying back with a cry. Just like him, she landed on her back, her chest fur singed and her nose bleeding. Discord slithered and circled himself quickly, standing up and knocking Twilight back with a quick, expanding shield that she tried and failed to dispel on the spot.

“Okay,” Discord said, breathing hard, looking down at the ground. No taunts twinkled in his eyes.

Straightening and throwing his arms wide, the shield slid back into him, covering his skin for a second like a thin slime. Twilight could only watch, willing her magic to replenish, while Octavia got up and started toward him again at a trot. Vinyl still stood back with Fluttershy, observing, determined, but to do what Twilight couldn’t tell.

Under Discord’s feet, the grass died and smoked, and the air began to shimmer around him. He glowed, at first it appeared only with the golden, autumnal magic that was his sign, but then with heat. Twilight backed away, and Octavia stopped her advance as his weak yellow skin deepened and the heat grew. His arms still open wide, as if to embrace the sunlight that his color so resembled, Discord threw his head back in exultation. Smoke billowed off his shoulders; all down his back; off his wings, spread apart like twin sides of a holy shield; and out of his face. Saw teeth of fire wavered eagerly in the grass where he stood, contributing their darker smoke to his rising column.

“Come closer,” Discord said, his voice a sluggish monotone, a lazy beckon that filled the air. A smaller explosion sent him wheeling back, but he regained his balance easily and looked at Octavia, his eyes bright metal dribbles inside his misshapen skull. He paused, and everyone backed up a step. The wreath of flames fanned outwards for a moment preceding his rejoinder.

With a roar that tore out of his chest and throat and sent smoke streaming out in straight, thin ropes, his yellow body scintillated into near-white, and he ran. The forge-like heat buffeted them in a single wave that washed over immediately and sent them scattering, the beginnings of a prairie fire following at his heels. The sound was almost as bad as the heat; it was as though his voice, too, had been turned to fire and then stoked too high. Twilight thought she could see fire fluttering inside his mouth when she stole a look over her shoulder. No longer flesh and blood, Discord bore down like an escaped train, all of its uncontrolled energy with nowhere to go but out, his alien howl a hollow, metallic reflection of the single-minded inferno inside him.

In the thunder of his footsteps and his breathless, chimneylike bellow, Twilight discerned a question that would stick with her for months to come: “Is this what you came for?”

At the start of the fight, she could have doused him, could have at least cooled his body enough to let someone else get a good shot in. As she was, she could only run, terrified of tripping over her own hooves, knowing it would be her end. She could feel her tail and hindquarters singing and blistering, and expected worse with each passing second, unable to look back without losing speed. She expected a rope of molten metal to drape over her back, or a bonfire to spring up just below her, or a simple cannonball of flame to engulf her. All were plausible.

To her side, Octavia had doubled back and was rocking with the exertion of her magic, hitting him with explosion after explosion to no apparent effect. Discord had deviated to run straight for her, the others meanwhile racing in a wide circle to Twilight, who stopped for a second. Not far off, the airship hovered noisily.

“Let’s have Applejack come in and ram him,” Rarity said, gasping for air. “That’ll give him something to think about.”

“We’re not destroying the ship,” Twilight said. “Just give me a minute, and I can do something else.”

Vinyl said something, but Twilight didn’t hear.

“Octavia can’t stay like that,” Fluttershy said.

“She’s going to kill herself if she doesn’t get out,” Rarity said. Not a moment after the words left her lips, Octavia turned around and tried to gallop away, but she was visibly winded, and did not put much distance between herself and Discord, still unerringly following her, but slower.

“Can you heal from a distance?” Vinyl asked Fluttershy, who shook her head.

Without a word, Twilight took off toward the two, pursuer and pursued, and Rarity gasped. “Do you think she can do anything?”

Fluttershy watched, remembering the first night, powerless to stop herself. While the others ran forward to fight, she had to stay behind, unable to attack meaningfully, or too afraid, but still aching to do something. Through the entire exchange, she had watched for a chance to dive in and offer her magic—a not insignificant amount, she needed to remind herself.

Twilight’s stunt with the airship had reminded her of the way they had fallen from their tiny hot air balloon to the palace balcony, the site she knew would never quit their memories. The soldiers that attacked them right after: that one, defining moment of impulsivity whose implications could in no way have been anticipated or prepared for. She remembered Spike, and his cruel, meaningless death. The failure in Applewood, the Tornado, the crow, and the litany of other near-misses and outright mistakes that had marked their journey.

Leaving Rarity and Vinyl behind with neither word nor significant look, Fluttershy ran and took to the air, moving her wings harder and faster than she had in recent memory. Unlike Twilight, unlike them all, she had a plan; it had appeared like a spark off Discord’s body as she recalled more and more of their faltering, fumbling attempts at heroism, and her own small role of healer throughout. Octavia had been right all along: there really was no excuse.

She had barely used her magic in the fight. Her one act had been to hold the balloon in place while Applejack tied it down: enough to warm her up and no more. She felt an unfamiliar but pleasant welling in her chest as the healing magic, hers and Vanilla’s both, flowed through and out, curtaining her body like a second cushion of air. She was still far enough away to allow one magical misfire without pain, but her magic came to her and took hold across her body correctly the first time.

Discord looked up and noticed Twilight first, who tried to dodge to the side, only to receive a kick in the chest, shielded. Smoke and cinders rolled off his shoulders like a supervillain’s cape, and then he looked at Fluttershy, his sun-bright face a mess of contours and angles, changing and rearranging like shattered glass in a sinkhole.

Fluttershy’s magic was almost a tangible thing, forming in front of her face and flowing back over her in a sharp, vortical cone. The pain that had, up to that point, been growing was washed away then; she felt immersed in water. No heat reached her, and with it no fear as she drew closer and closer to his still incomprehensible face. Perhaps, she thought, he was blinded by his own light and could not see the protective magic that kept her whole. Or perhaps, she thought an instant later, he was waiting until she was upon him to somehow break her healing spell.

It was too late to worry. She closed the distance and was suddenly there, the suggestions of pain finally reaching through her concentrated magic to prick and poke at her flesh, needles that lanced and scratched her skin and left only traces of a chapped, ashen sensation as they swirled away in her radiating magic. Smoke and sound filled her eyes and ears, and she was truly with him, touching the conflagrative heart of chaos and battering its faceless head with hooves and wings. Each strike was akin in feeling to slipping her limbs in and out of boiling water: too quick to hurt, too hot to ignore.

The face rearranged itself back into a semblance of the eyes, mouth, and nose arrangement that she knew, and Discord started backing away, raising his arms to try to grab her or slap her out of the air. She could feel his talons breaking apart and re-forming across her back as she threw her weight around in front of his face, the feeling like enduring a too-hot shower. Either his temperature was still growing, or her magic was diminishing, and she could not tell in that moment which was the case. As when healing a particularly difficult or large wound, her notion of magic potential was eclipsed under the seldom-seen willpower that still had potential to frighten her, so rarely did it appear. She was operating on instinct and emotion, the plan gone, though realized all the same.

Someone was shouting her name, but the towering inferno was too much. Her heavy breathing, her wings pumping far past the point of comfort, and the crackle of burning magic had created a pocket of sensory deprivation, in which all Fluttershy knew was the steadily rising pain all around her body and the smoldering beast that it was her job to fend off.

Something pulled her back, and she struggled, thinking he had finally gotten a hold of her. The pull turned into a swift tug, and she tumbled back and away into a painful drop to the ground, where she was dragged back. Her skin seared and her eyes were useless, coated in multi-hued afterimages that turned her friends’ hustling forms into psychedelic silhouettes behind the smoke she could still see before her. Her ears were ringing.

“Onto the ship, let’s go!” Rarity cried, and Fluttershy stood up and flew, her wings burning as much from overuse as from overexposure, over the rail. A flash of teleportation burst beside her, and Twilight and Vinyl appeared on the deck, the former collapsing again and the latter hastening to pull someone away from the ramp. Engines roared and propellers shook, and they turned up and away, leaving behind a dimming, cooling, confused-looking Discord, his face finally its original shape and wearing a dazed expression. He swayed where he stood, and Rainbow, laughing insanely, spat off the side.

“Fluttershy? Can you hear me?” Rarity asked, her concerned face filling Fluttershy’s eyes. Fluttershy nodded.

“Twilight needs help,” Octavia said, sitting down by the unicorn and trying to examine her. “I think she has lost consciousness.”

“Why the heck did she teleport?” Applejack asked, looking back from the wheel, which she sorely wanted to abandon to help her friends.

“Shit, he’s still moving down there,” Rainbow said, and Fluttershy stumbled to the rail to watch. Discord had regained his composure and was chasing after them, in his lion paw another glowing ball of magic. With a pause, a turn, and a powerful swing, he threw his parting shot up in a tremendous parabola, a rainbow arch, a glinting golden swoop that whistled jauntily as it sped straight for their ship and broke apart like a heated vial on the deck. The magic sputtered and spread like an oil slick, but then sunk into the floorboards and was gone. When they looked back down, Discord was standing where they left him, waving.

By the time they had reached the segmented river that bent around Draught Castle and eventually made its way down toward Moondrop, Twilight had woken up, Fluttershy had recovered her sight, and Rarity was able to perform enough simple magic to help her tend to wounds. Both were mostly unharmed, though Rarity complained of an intermittent headache, and Fluttershy kept having to turn away for coughing fits. Smoke inhalation, she figured.

Though Twilight had shielded Discord’s kick, she had not done so completely, and had sustained a small spray of pinhole burns across her chest. Octavia had the worst of it. She hadn’t noticed anything special during the fight, but safely back on the ship, it didn’t take long for her to find that her ear hurt much worse than it should for having simply been hit on the side of her head. No special insight was needed to tell her what was wrong. She complained of not hearing right, and Rainbow was the one to deliver the diagnosis.

“Uhh, yeah, it’s barely there, Octavia.”

Fluttershy would not be able to cast any healing magic for the rest of the day, at least, so they cleaned what was left of Octavia’s ear with water and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide that one of them had brought along in a first-aid kit, then bandaged it, all of which Octavia bore silently. On her gray head and beside her darker gray mane, the off-white bandage completed a grisly monochrome tableau that, of them all, seemed to offend Octavia the least.

“We’ll rest at the river and turn back towards Moondrop, takin’ care to avoid that damn fortress of his this time,” Applejack said. “Objections?”

“Take us away, captain,” Pinkie said sadly. She kept looking at Octavia’s ear, as if not believing what she saw.

“What about that magic he hit us with right at the end? Was that a whiff, or should we be worried about some kind of trick?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight, propped up on a pillow they had gotten from the cabin, was leafing through one of her books. “I’m trying to research what it could have been based on how it looked.”

“Can you not do any more magic today?”

“No, I actually can’t, Rainbow Dash.”

“Hey, I’m really asking. Sorry.”

Twilight rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’m not feeling right. I guess none of us are.” She looked up at Big Mac, who stood by the torch, looking pensive. “You okay, Big Mac?”

“Ah have somethin’ to say. Well, the glamour does.”

“We’re not going back there,” Rarity said. “If that’s what you’re going to say.”

“How about we just let him talk?” Vinyl said, horn aglow with a mauve light.

“Sorry, dear. Please, what is it?”

Big Mac stepped away from the torch, all eyes on him. “Yer not gonna like hearin’ this, an’ Ah don’t like sayin’ it. Ah would wait, but this can’t wait.” He took a deep breath. “Here goes. Ah don’t know why, before any of ya ask, but we need to go back to Canterlot.”

“What? Why?” Rainbow blurted, and Rarity glared at her.

“Alls Ah know is what my gut’s tellin’ me, and it’s tellin’ me we gotta go back. Not soon, neither, but now. We gotta get there fast as we can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Applejack said. “We just got outta there, an’ we’re one Element away.”

Big Mac shrugged elaborately. “Ah can’t explain it, but it’s what Ah’m feelin’.”

“Well, will we have time to stop for the night, at least?” Twilight asked. “We could use a break.”

Big Mac thought for a long time, his face returning to its pensive, downcast look. “Ah think so.”

Twilight flipped a page with her hoof. “Let’s wait until we’ve landed to talk about this more.” She looked at Octavia as she spoke, contemplating the red bandage on her head. She wanted to be more compassionate; she felt bad for not jumping up and fawning over Octavia’s wound like Fluttershy had, but the energy simply wasn’t there. She looked back down to her book and scanned the page, not really reading, instead mulling over the fight. Her big idea, uncoupling the balloon from the ship for a fast drop, had felt like it came out of nowhere when she had it, but she knew that it hadn’t. It was the same thing she had done to save them on their first night, flying to Canterlot; that was where the idea had come from, and many other things with it. In the noise of the battle, they were lost, but in the calm on the ship, Twilight had time to explore each individual one.

And so she did. Hooves traipsed about before her reclining, but not relaxed eyes, while she relived that night. It had started with the letter, the urgent missive that woke her up and set her running through sleeping Ponyville, waking her reluctant friends.

The interminable wait while the hot air balloon filled up. The attempt to find out what was going on in Canterlot, the weight of ignorance as they rose into the sky, and then the shock that pushed them to go faster when they saw what had come to the capital city. It had started half a year ago, and, in her private thoughts on the ship’s deck, Twilight was still there. She did not feel the fear or urgency that came with a true flashback, only the smoldering regret of memory. That, she knew from her research, would never go away.

Her friends moving along with their senses of duty and of place on the airship: that was not natural. Rainbow watching from the rail, still expecting a surprise attack: that was not normal. Applejack’s brother giving direction, empowered by foreign magic that he did not understand: not normal. And Twilight looking back through the seemingly endless chain of dark nights, of hard decisions, to the cold spark that had shot it all off: not right. One night, one mistake, was all it took. She had known who to blame at one point, but it did not seem to matter to her anymore. She just watched.

She turned a page and lowered her gaze to prolong the illusion of research. She watched out of the tops of her eyes as Vinyl removed Octavia’s bandage and dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth, but no pity stirred inside her heart. She wondered whether she would ever be moved by such a demonstration again, and, if not, when she had lost that part of herself.

Rarity wore her sleeping mask at the dim campfire, beset with a migraine that surprised no one. She sat between Octavia and Applejack, who would occasionally reach behind and rub her back. Rainbow and Twilight faced south, toward the castle, lost in the distance but still too close by their reckoning. Vinyl tended the fire, and Big Mac returned with another mouthful of twigs to keep it alive during the night. They had slacked off in recent times, but there would be a night watch for this one. Octavia volunteered to take the first shift.

They had landed in a shallow dell between two wide, short mountains, a grassy valley that curved and cramped up on a sharp rise to afford them a wide view of the empty plains to the south and the ruffled horizon to the north, the mountains that stood between them and the swamps. The cirrus clouds were stained pomegranate red in the sunset, their fluffy shapes reminding many of the mares of the prairie fire that had sprung up underneath Discord’s burning feet. Blue foxgloves bobbed their heads in a light breeze.

“So, what’s in Canterlot?” Rainbow asked.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Big Mac said.

“Now, I have a concern,” Rarity said. “Simply observing the timing here, you must admit that it’s curious. For all intents and purposes, it appears we bested Discord this time.”

“Escaped him. We only escaped him,” Twilight said.

“In my book, that is bestin’ him, at least until we get that last dang Element,” Applejack said. “But Ah get yer point.”

“Either way,” Rarity continued, blinded face turned to the fire, “we did something he did not want or expect. We have him unbalanced, at the very least.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Vanilla Cream controls the glamour, and Discord controls him. Is it not out of the question that Big Mac could have been given a false impulse, to misdirect us?”

“Twilight, I think this one’s for you,” Rainbow said.

“I’m thinking,” Twilight said. “Sorry, right, the glamour. Um, it would be difficult. Glamours aren’t something you can really change on the fly like that. Vanilla would have to come in and put a second one on Big Mac.”

“Could he have?” Fluttershy asked.

“I’m not going to say ‘no,’ but I’m going to say probably not. Nobody saw him at any point during the fight, did they?”

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what was going on on the deck,” Rainbow said.

“He didn’t appear,” Pinkie said. “Big Mac and I were together the whole time, and Vanilla didn’t show up. Not a peep.”

“Coulda been that magic Discord hurled up at us,” Applejack said.

“I think that’s far more likely,” Twilight said. “But we won’t know that until tomorrow, at the least.” She tapped her horn; even that hurt.

“Is there any way we can help you know what it is?” Fluttershy asked Big Mac. “Any sort of questions, or things we can say to sort of… tease it out of you?”

Big Mac simply rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t know,” Vinyl said. “Can we leave it at that? It’s not like he chooses when to receive these revelations.”

Big Mac put a hoof on hers, and she blushed.

“Hey, we’re cool,” Rainbow said. “But this is important. You get that, right, Big Mac?”

“Sure,” he said.

“What’s in Canterlot right now?” Rarity asked. “Let’s start this way. Maybe we can hack away at the main question a little.”

“The princesses, probably,” Applejack said. “It’s probably them.”

“A reasonable assumption,” Twilight said. “So why would we need to physically go to them, and not, say, write a letter?”

“This is stupid,” Rainbow said. “I already know we’re not gonna get anywhere like this. Canterlot’s a big place. Most likely, Mac’s thinking about something small and random that’s gonna happen to us, or that we’re gonna have to do.”

“You don’t know the nature of the thing, do you?” Pinkie asked Big Mac, who shook his head.

Rarity’s brow furrowed. “I have an idea.”

“Not a good one,” Big Mac grumbled.

“I’ll make it simple for you, dear.” She sighed through her nose. “Tell us what it is we’re flying towards in Canterlot, or else I’ll abandon this quest.”

“What?” Rainbow asked.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Applejack mumbled.

“Threats like that don’t work if you don’t mean ‘em,” Big Mac said.

“Oh?” Rarity simpered. “And who’s to say I don’t mean this one?”

“Ah am, ‘cause Ah know you.” Vinyl, quick to notice the tiny rise in his voice, slapped her tail back over his. “An’ that kinda talk ain’t gonna help any of us, so Ah think you’d better just cut it out right now.”

Rarity looked down. “I figured it was worth a try.”

Big Mac surveyed them. “Ah’m gettin’ tired of this.”

“Oh, Big Mac, I understand,” Fluttershy said.

“Mm-hm. Ya know, the more you try to force it out of me, the less an’ less you’ll get from me.”

“We’ve known that for forever, Rarity,” Rainbow said. “His glamour’s delicate.”

“It’s me, dag-nabbit!” he shouted. Raised, his voice was massive, flattening all of their ears like one of Octavia’s blasts. He stopped for a moment, nostrils flaring. “Ah ain’t yer crystal ball or yer precog or nothin’. Ya got that? Ah ain’t nothin’ to this setup of yers. Yer treatin’ me like one of Twilight’s books, to be opened any old time an’ researched at yer convenience, an’ whenever Ah say that Ah don’t know, that’s what Ah mean. It don’t mean try harder.” He got up abruptly and began to pace behind his stone seat. “If ya keep tryin’ to squeeze information outta me, yer gonna lose me, ‘cause sooner or later it’s gonna get to the point where Ah say glamour be damned, an’ Ah jump ship at the nearest town.”

“Would it let you do that?” Octavia asked.

Big Mac turned to her, and everyone braced themselves for another flare. “Miss Octavia, if Ah ain’t the master of my own self anymore, then Ah may as well walk out right now.” He thought for a second. “Ah ain’t gonna be an empty vessel.”

“Okay, Big Mac,” Twilight said calmly, holding up a hoof. “Let’s settle down. Please take a seat.”

He glared at her, but returned to his rock.

“No one’s going to try to make you do what you can’t do, okay?”

Rarity moved to speak, but Fluttershy put an arresting hoof on her leg.

“You have to understand how scared we all are, and this new thought of yours coming right after a big fight, too.”

“Maybe it’s just a matter of faith,” Pinkie said.

“This isn’t some divine blessing we’re talking about,” Rarity said. “It’s a piece of unwelcome Tartarus magic.”

“That’s only ever put us on the right path.” She crept over to Big Mac, who glowered at the proceedings, turned pointedly away from Vinyl. “Big Mac, I’m sorry. I trust you.” He sighed. “If he didn’t have the old glamour on, why would he still be here? You heard him, he’s thought about calling it quits. Why hasn’t he?”

“I mean…”

“What kind of friendship is this, anyway? We don’t use each other like him, so what’s so special? Huh? Nopony pressured me to use my Pinkie Sense, back when I had it.” No one answered her. “Huh? Huh? Was mine different or something? Some kind of special case? Heck no! Besides, if this glamour is such a bad thing in the end, then why are we fighting about it? Let’s just ignore it.”

“If we let it distract us, then it did its job, huh?” Rainbow said. “Crap, Big Mac.”

“I’m sorry, Big Mac,” Twilight said. “You’re both one hundred percent right. We’ve been insensitive.”

“I trust you, Big Mac,” Pinkie said, patting his back.

“Me too,” Vinyl said, leaning awkwardly to hug him.

“I trust,” Twilight said. “Pinkie makes a strong point.”

Applejack was chewing her lip. In the waning sunset, her eyes were rubicund pools, the same color as her brother’s coat. Evident on her face was the skepticism, the warring mistrust of Vanilla’s glamour and inherent faith in her brother’s judgment. “We’ll cast off fer Canterlot tomorrow, Ah guess.”

“I’d still like us to be prepared for whatever’s going to happen there,” Rarity said. “Er, and I am sorry too, Big Macintosh.” She raised her sleep mask for a second, but lowered it with a grimace. “I was out of line, as usual.”

“It’s understandable,” Big Mac said. “Given what Ah am.”

“Now now, no need for a pity party,” Pinkie said.

He stood up again and raised a hoof. “No one needs to follow me. Ah’m comin’ back, but not fer a while.” He walked out into the fields, south, in the direction of the castle. “Got some thoughts to sort out.”

In a circle, with the black pegasus, Soft Spirit, at the head and on a higher seat to see everyone easily, they sat and nodded like a bunch of idlers reaching the same conclusion at the same time. She opened the session with an easy, soft question, to prompt conversation, and then the stories and opinions began flowing.

To Colgate’s immediate left, the snaggle-toothed unicorn that everyone knew as Flame quivered and constantly shifted his weight in his seat, looking anxiously over at the yellow unicorn on her right, Gold Splatter. He talked too loud about how he was always afraid he was hurting his friends’ feelings, and the one time when he actually had, how it had crushed him.

“What happened?” Soft Spirit asked, her eyes large in his, her face welcoming and inquisitive.

“Well, uh, the thing is…” He licked his lips, and Colgate noticed that obnoxious stud again. She wanted to say something, and almost did. “It was like a, like a big thing, you know, like nopony wanted it to happen that way, right? That’s just how it goes, how sometimes things don’t go the way you want ‘em to, that’s how this went, how we were all just trying to pull a prank on him, but it went too far and I said some nasty things, real world-class nasty, you know?”

She nodded as if the interminable rise and fall in his monologue were completely natural.

“Uhhh, but you know, you can’t take that kinda stuff back, no ma’am, none of that, so here I am, and you know I just kinda thought about it after, you know like how crappy a thing that is to do to somebody, and how not meaning it kinda makes it worse ‘cause it means you’re just naturally able to do that kind of crappy thing, like I didn’t even have to try, I just did it and it felt easy and funny and, you know, almost natural, like I didn’t even have to try, you know?”

Flame squirmed on Colgate’s other side, and she wanted to smack him.

“Uh-huh.” Soft Spirit was nodding. “Flame, you look upset. Is there something on your mind?”

“Go ahead, Flame,” Gold Splatter said, eyes wide with realized contrition, voice at a reasonable volume.

“No, it’s just… that kind of reminded me of something,” Flame said, his voice a welcome break from Gold Splatter’s. He spoke low and did not enunciate, but he was almost calm. Colgate could feel herself palpably relaxing as he spoke.

“What’s that?” another patient asked. Her name was Butter Biscuits, an older, overweight pegasus with a sunburn-pink coat and long locks of dirty blonde mane over her very round head. Colgate had seen her a few times in the common area and taken an immediate dislike. Her laugh made Colgate’s fur stand on end.

Flame twisted his hoof on the tile floor, looking down, forming his words. No one pushed him, and he eventually spoke. “I’ve just been in a similar situation, is all.”

“Luna damn it,” Colgate thought, throwing a frown at an innocent earth pony on the other side of the circle. Getting Flame to say something specific was almost as hard as getting Gold Splatter to stop talking. How much patience must the counselors have, she wondered.

“Were you on the giving end, or the receiving end?” Butter Biscuits asked, and Flame bowed his head. He said no more, save an inarticulate mumble. Soft Spirit clearly knew better than to push it, and moved on.

“What about you, Fresh Linens? You’ve been quiet today.”

Everyone thought of Fresh Linens as Rarity’s earth pony counterpart. Her coat was almost the same shade of sparkling white, her mane curled a little too tight but very close to the real article of baroque spirals, royal purple by nature, not dye; it had not faded in her time in the facility. How she was able to maintain her appearance, Colgate didn’t know.

Fresh Linens, however, was no lady. “I guess when I ended up leaving my third wife, that was pretty bad. She told me I’d never amount to anything, that I’d always be some sort of third-rate hussy, and I was like ‘oh yeah, those are some strong words coming from the lady who shoplifted that designer saddlebag’—she did, too, I heard about it from Silk River, she’s a real sneak.” She shook her head. “It got ugly. Not, like, hitting ugly, but we’re not on speaking terms. Not that I’d want to be with her, she’s so clingy.”

“Did she make you feel inadequate?” Soft Spirit asked. “Like you couldn’t be trusted?”

“Well, first of all, she’s the one who can’t be trusted, but she was real clingy, yeah,” Fresh Linens said, shaking her head. Colgate raised a hoof.

“What is it, Colgate?” Soft Spirit asked.

“You said ‘third’ wife. What happened to the first two?” Colgate asked. Of all of participants in the session, Fresh Linens was her favorite.

“First one was a gambler, second one died in a carriage accident,” Fresh Linens said. “You know the story,” she said, nodding to Soft Spirit.

“How soon after the second one did you find your third one?”

“Colgate, is this relevant?” Soft Spirit asked.

Colgate glared at her, but Soft Spirit didn’t flinch.

“I never had a wife or a husband or anything,” Gold Splatter said. “I wish I could sometime, either or, heck, I’m not choosy, I just want—oh! Sorry.” He held a hoof to his mouth.

“It’s fine, darling,” Fresh Linens said, though her tense body in the seat suggested otherwise.

“Let’s get back on topic,” Soft Spirit said. “Who here thinks it’s a good thing to move on from the past?”

A ring of hooves slowly rose into the air, one after the other, all hesitant.

“Let me tell you a story,” Soft Spirit continued. “There was a pony I knew, let’s call her Miss Hooves, a long time ago. We were friends in high school, and then on-and-off in college. Miss Hooves had her whole life ahead of her: straight A’s, varsity polo team, loving, supporting marefriend, the whole thing. As sometimes happens in college, we grew apart a little. Nothing happened, we just didn’t really stay together. That’s natural. We went our separate ways, and then, a year later, I heard she was trying for a foal. I congratulated her— already had one at the time, a colt—and we reconnected briefly. She said to me once that she was jealous of me, and I was shocked. ‘You, jealous of me?’ I asked. Seemed to me, she had everything a pony could ever want.”

Gold Splatter wiggled in his seat, trying to restrain himself from breaking in with his own lengthy insight.

“She got real serious then, way more serious than I’d ever seen her, even for all the time we’d spent together. She told me she was barren, that she couldn’t have any foals, and that she’d known for a long time. Apparently, she’d tried years ago, and hadn’t had any then either, and she was hiding it from her wife.”

“Oh no,” another unicorn said. Her dark, sleepless eyes were wide with empathy.

“I told her she should probably tell her about it, and she said no, she couldn’t. ‘Why?’ I asked. She couldn’t stand to, she couldn’t stand to tell the truth, it was too painful for her. She said she’d been living with that since our first year of college, but couldn’t ever accept it. And when I looked into her eyes then, I saw that misery, that same fear of going on, of acceptance, that we’re talking about today. She had been that way all through college, plus a marriage, six years total, and never told anypony. And she was miserable.”

“That poor mare,” Fresh Linens said.

“What happened to her?” Flame asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Soft Spirit said. “I never heard from her after that, or her wife. I tried to get in touch again a month later, but they were gone.”

“I accept who I am!” Gold Splatter almost yelled, standing up, but quickly sitting back down when Soft Spirit shot a mild glance at him. “Uhhh, I mean, I accept it. Me, I mean. I accept me now, if that mare can accept herself.”

“But she didn’t, that was the point,” Colgate said.

“Let’s say she did, for the sake of this conversation,” Soft Spirit said. “Who can tell me how she would have changed?”

The dark-eyed unicorn raised a hoof. Her name was Dancing Shoes, and Colgate had only ever seen her in the common area. She looked perpetually tired, always deep in thought, rarely present for anything happening in front of her. Her colors were washed out reds and purples, marbled across a compact body that looked like it had never danced a step in its short life.

“Go ahead, Dance.”

“She would have been happier,” Dancing Shoes said.

Soft Spirit nodded for her to continue.

“Uhh, she would have probably been able to work through it with her wife, and they could have gotten through it.”

“Gotten through it together,” Butter Biscuit said. “No one’s an island, right, Soft Spirit?”

“That’s exactly right,” Soft Spirit said, lingering on Colgate for a moment as her eyes scanned the room.

Colgate frowned, both at the unwarranted look and the sound of Gold Splatter panting to her side, the sign that he was preparing to embark on another diatribe.

“What’s that mean?” she asked suddenly. She hadn’t thought about it, just blurted it out, but did not chastise herself. “Dang. Let’s see where this goes,” she thought.

“No pony is meant to be alone in the world,” Butter Biscuit said. “We’re all in this together, you know?”

“Friendship is magic!” Gold Splatter said, almost coming out of his seat again. Whatever he wanted to say, it was big.

“That actually reminds me of something,” Colgate said. “Back when I was in Ponyville, me and some others got together to help rebuild a friend’s house, right after The Crumbling. Like, I’m talking a couple days after, or a week, maybe.”

“I helped ‘em work on a bridge once,” Gold Splatter said.

“Let her speak,” Butter Biscuits said.

“Watch the cross-talk,” Soft Spirit said. “Go on, Colgate. What happened?”

Colgate took a moment to scowl at the room. Her mind, usually alive with too many ideas, was cold and quiet. She felt empty of words and thoughts, and didn’t know that she could continue the story she started. She might simply stand up and walk out, out of the facility, out into the road, off in any direction at all and never turn back, never to speak again.

She almost did just that, but inertia kept her seated.

“What happened?” Soft Spirit asked again, looking Colgate in the eye.

“He was my ex-coltfriend at the time, so I was hesitant to help out, but I decided to anyway, ‘cause it was the decent thing to do. We all got together one day to work on this house, foundation to roof, the whole thing. The Elements of Harmony were there, now that I think about it. We chatted a little. Anyway, we had a lot of magic on our team, so we were able to get a lot of work done quickly. The actual owner of the house, he didn’t do much to help, he was just off to the sides a lot. We hardly spoke.”

“You didn’t part on good terms?” Fresh Linens asked.

“Good enough, I simply didn’t have any interest in him anymore,” Colgate said. “I remember, when we were curing the concrete, somebody had a candy apple with them, and they dropped it in there. No one saw it, and it got covered up, totally entombed in concrete. I remember thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me, that this speck of organic stuff should be interred forever under a house like that. Concrete is basically sterile, so that candy apple won’t have decomposed much in all these months since it was buried. Just thinking about it, that stupid imperfection down there, it…” She had no idea what she was going to say; none of it was true.

“Why does it bother you?” Soft Spirit asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe… it’s a mistake that can’t be corrected, like ever. I guess someone could go in and dig down and chip through all that concrete, and dig the stupid apple out and then fill in that little hole with fresh concrete, and then the hole you made to get in there in the first place, but I bet the foundation wouldn’t sit right after that, ‘cause I don’t think fresh concrete and old concrete mix properly. There’d always be a little unevenness there after it was complete, so you’d have to tear it all up and put in a fresh batch.”

Soft Spirit nodded along.

“So it’s never going to happen. Who’s going to go to all that work to fish out an old, stale candy apple? No one cares, so it’s going to sit there for all of eternity, and even then, once the house is collapsed and useless, or torn down to make way for something new, that foundation’s going to stay there, underground, and it’s just going to build and build and build.” She looked at the green glowing exit sign, losing touch with what she was saying. “It’s like your story of the barren lady, how one mistake got buried under a whole life of growth, and it got to the point where uncovering it and dealing with it was way too much work, more work than anyone would ever want to do, so she just had to live with it like that. I wish it hadn’t happened, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“But it’s just an apple,” Gold Splatter said.

“A candy apple,” Colgate said, turning to him, squaring his oblivious face in her annoyed eyes.

“Colgate,” Soft Spirit said.

“I’m powerless,” Colgate said, turning back on her. In her mind, finally beginning to move, she was speaking to the counselor only. “I can’t do a single thing to help myself in anything I do, because everything out there is so much bigger than me, and I’m surrounded.”

“Do you feel surrounded a lot? I’ve heard you say things like that before.”

“We all feel that way sometimes,” Dancing Shoes said. “But it is what it is.”

“We’re all surrounded,” Colgate said. “That includes me.”

“I know how you feel,” Butter Biscuit said. Everyone nodded along with her.

“But it’s exactly that little voice in your head that you need to learn to ignore, or better yet, silence,” Soft Spirit said. “That voice that says ‘no, I can’t do it, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right.’ We all know that voice, right?”

Again, everyone nodded, and Colgate watched.

“But what good does that voice do us? What good is it to beat ourselves down, to tell ourselves that we’re no good? I mean, if we keep saying it, it’ll eventually come true. Who wants that?” She looked and noticed that Colgate was not nodding along. “You don’t want that to come true, do you, Colgate?”

Colgate looked at Flame, his head lowered deferentially. “It already has.”

“I beg to differ. The fact that you’re here shows that it hasn’t.”

“I’m not working toward anything here.”

“Sobriety,” Fresh Linens said, her voice drawn, as if personally affronted by Colgate’s suggestion.

“How long has it been since you last drank, Colgate? Four days? Five?”

“One day at a time, Colgate,” Gold Splatter said. “You can’t expect everything to happen at once.”

Colgate sighed. In her head, she was melting away, disappearing through the cracks in the tile, leaving the last vestigial piece of her life—her most recent, old life—behind. She was leaving the facility, the other addicts, the well-meaning counselors to rot in memory.

With eyes glazed and voice thick, she spoke once more. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go. My family is somewhere else, I don’t know. My friends are dead, and I don’t have a job. I can’t go back where I came from. They took my medical license, probably.” She looked Soft Spirit in the eyes, not hating her, not thinking about her or what she might think about what Colgate had to say. “I pretended to have a drinking problem for the police so they’d take me here instead of some shelter somewhere. I don’t need help.”

The room kept silent while she waited for a response, and eventually decided to continue.

“I can’t go back to anything in my past, because everything in that past is gone. I don’t know.” She stood. “I am going to go watch some TV now.” And so she did.

For thirty minutes, she sat in front of the TV, unthinking, her head buzzing, but not with thought. She had forgotten most of what she said, and had only a vague notion that she had done something strange. To her, it seemed that she had only spoken her mind—a feat in itself, but not a correct one.

The polite knock had to repeat three times, with Drift Dive’s gentle intonation of her name, before Colgate opened the door for him. He glanced at the TV and asked if he could turn it down. She said yes.

“I want you to know that I heard some of what you were saying earlier, in group,” he said.

“Okay.”

He studied her for a long moment, and closed the door with his red magic. “I think it was very brave of you.”

“Okay.”

He smiled. “Tired?”

“I don’t know.”

“Soft Spirit came to see me as soon as she finished. She said you were amazing out there, that you had a real breakthrough.”

Colgate just looked at him. She had no plan, not even a bad one. She wanted to sleep.

“Between you and me, I actually wish more of our patients had the courage to speak up like you, Colgate.” He smiled at her. “Hungry? Lunch in twenty minutes.”

“Not hungry.”

He chuckled. “No surprises there. Me, I’m always hungry.” He patted his side heartily, and sighed. “You amaze me, do you know that?”

“Nope.”

“I wish you could see your progress like I can. It’s remarkable, truly. Almost unbelievable. To think you came in once before, you were a totally different pony then.” He looked down suddenly. “Sorry, I guess it’s not in the best taste to bring it up. Like you said, your old life is done.”

Colgate nodded.

“I don’t know how you can keep your composure so well, I really don’t. I know when I was younger, I couldn’t do it for anything. Heck, I still have trouble sometimes.”

“Happens to everyone.”

“How true, how true.” He leaned against her bed, eyes closed. “I remember when I was younger, I had a drinking problem. Oh, yeah, it started out innocently enough, but it got bad. Bad, Colgate. A twelve-pack a day most days, or a bottle of vodka. I remember my friends chasing a carriage puller away from the house once, when I wanted to go out and get more liquor. I was, well, I’m sure you know.” His voice dropped, and she bent nearer to listen, not interested in the content so much as the cadence. “I was all shouting and hollering, ‘no, no, come back, come back.’ I broke my nose falling on my driveway.” He forced a tiny laugh. “Shame I didn’t know you sooner, maybe you could have set it right for me that night, instead of a week later, when I finally got around to going to the hospital.”

“Noses are something different,” Colgate said quietly.

“Ah.” He sighed. “Thank Luna that’s all in the past now. I don’t ever want anyone to go through what I had to to get clean, I mean that. I’m overjoyed every day I get to come in here and see you. You all.”

“Hard job.”

“Oh, it has its trials, every job does, but it’s worth it.” He opened his eyes. “Although… can I let you in on something?”

She shrugged.

“You’re being real quiet tonight, Colgate. Are you okay?”

“Thinking.” She wasn’t.

He put a hoof on the bed, angling his upper half closer to do so. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I’ve tried all the usual remedies, but nothing seems to work. When I can get to sleep on time, I don’t stay asleep. I keep waking up.”

“Uh-huh.”

He sighed. “I figure, it’s got to be stress. My days haven’t been the best lately.” He looked at her, and must have seen something in her eyes, because he went on. “I’m worried about my place here, is all. I know, I’m sure it looks fine from where you stand, but it’s not. I recently got written up for… well, you don’t need to know why, exactly, but it had to do with a patient here. I’m trying my best out here, but I only hear about it when I mess something up.”

“I know how you feel.”

“Probably better than most,” Drift Dive said quietly. “No offense. I don’t mean to suggest that our problems are equal, or anything like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

His voice dropped even lower, as if he were speaking only to himself. “Though I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to trade positions, just for a day. Me in that bed, you…” He trailed off, and Colgate watched impassively. She could tell that something was on his mind, and that he did not want anyone else to know. She also did not want to know.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t need to hear about this. It’s unprofessional.” He looked at her without speaking for a time, and she looked back.

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

He shook his head, a coy smile forming at his muzzle. “You’re a peach, Colgate. In all the time I’ve known you, you never have a problem speaking your mind. How do you do it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a hard question,” he said, again to himself. “You know, for the first time, I’m not quite as certain of myself as I was when I joined this team. I still want to help ponies, that hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it ever will, but this place… I’m not sure I fit anymore, Colgate.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ve been losing revenue steadily over the last year. I can—sorry, I know I should have asked this first—I can trust you to keep quiet on this? It’s… kind of privileged.”

“No one would believe anything I say anyway,” Colgate said. “Speak away.” After a second, she added, “I’m listening.” She paused to wonder why, but he spoke away with all embarrassed eagerness.

“We’ve had to make cuts to keep up with expenses, and some of us are feeling a pinch. Pay cuts, mostly, to the junior counselors. Me and Cyclone mostly. I’m not… that is, I understand, I don’t blame them for that. But it doesn’t mean I’m quite as happy here as I was, quite as comfortable. I almost wonder sometimes if they’re trying to pick one of us to let go.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe my write up was a warning, or just a sign of things to come.” He closed his eyes again and put his whole face down on her sheets, only inches from her hooves.

“Might be nothing.”

“It might be, you’re right. But this is my job, Colgate; I can’t afford to lose it. Thank Luna I don’t have any kids like Cyclone does. But I’m still scared.”

Colgate nodded. She could tell that Drift Dive was sad.

“I worry about what’ll happen to you if I have to go, too. I think I worry about that most of all.” He looked back up to her, his eyes watering. He dried them on her sheets. “I really shouldn’t be getting this emotional around you. I’m sorry. You must think I’m… I don’t even know.”

“I don’t care,” she said.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, right, I figured. You’re… special. I do remember that, I know showing my feelings around you isn’t… well, I know it’s not the quickest way to your heart.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned and lay on her back, reaching for the remote.

“Colgate?”

“Hm?”

“Um…”

She turned back to regard him. On his face weltered two emotions, moving too fast for her to make much of. He appeared ill and afraid at once, but his eyes were set, as if there were something he wanted to do. “What do you want?” she asked.

“You said… uh…” He licked his lips. “You said you just do it?”

“Do what?”

“Whatever’s on your mind? You just… go for it?”

“Sure.”

He nodded, casting his eyes back down for a moment, and she watched him fiddle and fumble with his hooves. At last, he took a single, decisive step to her, and, so slowly as to mesmerize her, leaned in. Her eyes remained on his brow, her lips closed, and when they met, she just sat there. As he got bolder and slid closer, to give himself a better angle, she sat there. When his tongue darted and grew between the narrow space her lips, closed but not tight, afforded, she did nothing.

All Colgate wanted in that moment was to turn the TV back up.