Project Sunflower: Harmony

by Hoopy McGee

First published 31st of March, 2014

After the events of Project: Sunflower, Erin returns to Ponyville to study magic. Meanwhile, something is stirring on the newly-discovered world of Harmony.

After the events of Project: Sunflower, Erin Olsen has returned to Ponyville, happy to pursue her studies in magic. After everything that happened the year before, she's looking forward to spending her days studying and having fun with her friends.

Meanwhile, on the newly discovered world of Harmony, humans and ponies work together to study this strange new world. However, their arrival causes something ancient to begin stirring. Something that may end up changing everything.

Erin will need all of her courage, all of her cleverness and, of course, all of her friends to see herself through what happens next.

Cover art by Valkyrie-Girl
Editing provided by:
Brilliant Point, Coandco, Ekevoo, Ludicrous Lycan, Merlos the Mad and Razalon the Lizardman.

Chapter 01: The Old World

The dream was constant. It was never ending, never changing. And in our dreaming, another day was dawning. The glow on the eastern horizon chased away the last of the stars as the sun rose over the dark world below. The light pooled, brightening slowly from dark purple to a golden yellow, before it finally rushed out, spilling across the land.

In the dream, we soared with the light as it tinted the leaves of the massive and ancient trees in the many forests that covered the continent. We were with the light as it hit the mountains, painting their snow-frosted peaks with reds and golds. When the light hit the broad grasslands, we ran with it as it sped and played and glittered in the occasional lake or river that dotted the countryside.

At certain points on the terrain, some of our dreaming minds would linger. Memories tried to surface, tugging at us from the dim past. But the land below was unbroken, the scars long since healed and the damage forgotten, and those temporarily caught would move on.

We dreamed of the rivers, ever flowing towards the sea. The rivers would dance along the land, sometimes alone, sometimes joining together, other times breaking apart again until they finally spilled themselves into the vast and dark sea.

We dreamed of the ocean, and of the myriad life contained therein. Fish, crustaceans, invertebrates, all manner of life striving, competing and thriving. Our minds would sink to the deepest depths, where in the dark the largest of the leviathans soared like floating submarine islands, enormous mouths gaping wide as they drew in food of all types. As they drifted on the currents, they were accompanied by schools of smaller animals which scavenged from their leavings. The leviathans roamed the sea and countless lives roamed with them.

We dreamed of the land, teeming with life of its own. Flowers abounded amongst the grasslands, growing with wild enthusiasm in reds and greens, blues and yellows. They were attended to and fed upon by insects of all descriptions. The reptiles that made up nearly all of the animal life fed on plants and insects alike, and sometimes upon each other, as well. These reptiles on the land came in almost as many varieties as the fish in the sea. Large and small, some slow and plodding, others quick and fast.

Of these reptiles, the most active and beautiful were the flyers. They streaked through the sky in all colors of the rainbow, flying on shining wings while surveying the land below them with eyes that gleamed like precious gemstones. They soared above it all, taking in the occasional insect for sustenance and resting in the branches of the trees, safe from the larger predators below. And, every day as the daylight began to wane, the flyers would settle into the forests as the last light faded, draw the air into their lungs, and sing the sun to sleep.

The song came from millions of throats all at once, starting as a low hum that swept from east to west as the light faded, drowning out all other sound. As the sun set, some of the flyers would get carried away, trilling or crooning with joy that introduced motion into the song, a melody that would soar and leap, dance and spin. But always, always, they would return to that same simple harmony that echoed across the entire world.

And then, as the darkness took hold, the singing would fade, leaving behind it a peaceful calm to welcome back the stars as they reappeared in the night sky. Along with the stars came the moons, three of them, the smallest two a matched set of light blue and the largest a ghostly pale white that would sometimes eclipse one or both its smaller sisters. Sometimes, when the relative position of the sun was correct, no moons at all would be seen in the night sky, leaving the stars to light the land below on their own.

And as we dreamed, life went on like this, years upon years uncounted. If anything ever changed, it was in a small, inconsequential way that made no difference in the larger scheme of things. Life simply went on as it always had; a perfect rhythm, an unchanging dance. Nothing happened that wasn’t how it should be, how it had always been, and therefore the days passed by unnoticed as we slumbered.

And then, on a day that had started like any other, on a small hill that was in no way different than any other hill found on the land, the air shimmered. A sound, like a tuning fork being struck, echoed through the nearby stand of trees, stilling the song of the flyers and bathing the area in silence.

In the shimmering air, a window resolved itself. The sights and sounds from the other side of that window were completely alien to the world, all hard angles and gleaming metal. A short while later, various black and whirring things came flying into the world, the harsh sounds of their passing startling the local reptiles into flight, the harmony of their song broken and scattered.

Following the flying devices came one that trundled along on treads that smashed the flowers and tore at the grasses below. The flying devices immediately began spreading out, while the land-based one simply stopped, lights blinking and servos whirring as it angled the panels on top of it to catch the last dying rays of the sun.

This was something different. This was something unexpected. This was not as it always had been. And it most definitely did not go unnoticed. The Dreamers began to grow restless.

I stirred in my slumber and slowly began to wake.

Chapter 02: Back on her hooves

A jet-black highway wound its way through the forested hills, past the pines and undergrowth. An elderly hybrid Ford Escape, dented and dinged but well-maintained, drove up the road at just over the posted speed limit. Spring had come to most of the country, but the mountains were fighting back. The higher the driver went, the more snow there was. It was as if he were driving back in time, back into winter.

The road was mostly empty, so nobody was around to hear the deep bass thumping from inside the Escape. The driver, a middle aged man with a grey-streaked beard, short brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses, was singing along with the song on the radio. It was a song he’d loved as a child, and he belted out the lyrics as loudly and joyfully as he could. If anyone had been listening, they would have been informed that, though he might get knocked down, he’d get up again, and, in fact, they were never going to keep him down.

The song was just wrapping up when the signs began to appear. Signs stating that further travel was restricted without permission, signs stating no trespassing, signs stating the legal, and potentially fatal, consequences for ignoring the other signs and, finally, a sign warning him to slow the vehicle down just as the large grey concrete wall came into view.

The driver slowed to a stop next to the gatehouse set into the concrete wall. The guard, a serious-faced young man in a black suit, asked the driver his purpose, and then asked for his ID. When the driver passed it over, he noticed that the young man had a holstered sidearm under his jacket, though he didn’t know guns well enough to place the type.

The guard consulted with someone over a radio. A few seconds passed before the reply came, after which the guard passed the ID back and entered a combination into a keypad. The metal gate blocking the road rolled to one side and the driver started moving again.

He followed the signs to the visitor’s parking lot, which was the size of a football field and nearly empty, allowing him to pull in very close to the main entrance of the compound. He killed the ignition and finally got out to stretch. His clothes were deeply creased and uncomfortable after the hours he’d spent driving. He gave them a quick adjustment while studying the compound.

The Visitor Center had only been halfway completed the last time he’d been out here. The work had obviously continued over the winter, and now the asymmetrical glass-faced pyramid shone like a diamond in the snow, glittering in the early afternoon sun. Five stories high at its peak, the building contained the administrative wing of Project Harmonics as well as the more luxurious apartments, intended for use by visiting VIPs.

Behind the shining Visitor Center were the original Harmonics buildings. Though none of them were over two stories, they were wide and sprawling, covering most of the ground between the high walls surrounding the compound. That was where the real work took place, in the cinderblock-walled buildings that had been constructed hastily a few years earlier and were now much too important to replace with something that looked nicer.

Once he’d rearranged himself to his satisfaction, the traveler reached into the back seat to pull out his travel bag. He made his way inside the crystalline building, walked straight up to the receptionist desk and smiled, pulling out his ID before the young man behind the desk could ask for it.

“Hi,” the man said. “I’m John Olsen, and I’m here to see my daughter, the pony.”

Erin Olsen’s nose twitched, slowly coming to recognize the smell of disinfectant and flowers in the air. As she became more alert, awareness filtered in that her mouth tasted like something very sick had crawled into it and died. Her other senses started checking in, the familiar beeps of medical equipment and the feeling of bed sheets around her making her realize that she was awake, and that she must be in the medical wing once again. Her eyes fluttered open and stared blankly at the white-tiled ceiling for almost a full minute before flitting around the room, eventually landing on her mother, who was sitting in a large chair next to her bed and focused on her knitting.

“Hi, Mom,” Erin managed to croak. Her voice obviously startled her mother, because the older woman jumped and squeaked in surprise, nearly stabbing herself with her own knitting needle. Erin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Erin!” The knitting was quickly stuffed into her mother’s large purse. Lynne stood and bent over her, stroking her mane. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Erin replied weakly while hoping that her breath wasn’t too terrible. Lynne responded by pouring a glass of water for her and holding it so that Erin could drink.

“Now how do you feel?” Lynne asked, after Erin’s third glass of water.

“Rolled out and stretched too far,” Erin complained. “Tired. Achy. It’s probably the sedatives.” She nodded vaguely at the IV line taped to her left foreleg. Light brown and fuzzy, once again. She would have pointed using her other foreleg, but she was strapped firmly to the bed. Her mother frowned when she saw where Erin’s eyes were looking.

Her mother was wearing an unhappy frown. “I really hate seeing you strapped down like that.”

Erin’s shoulders twitched in what would have been a shrug if she hadn’t been strapped to her bed. “I’m not quite ‘done’ when they take me out of the vat, I guess.” She tried to say that casually, as if it didn’t bother her to say that. “If I move around too much before everything ‘sets’, I could really damage my muscles and joints. They have to restrain me and keep me under so I don’t thrash and hurt myself before my brain gets used to my new body.”

“That’s what the nurse said,” Lynne replied, sounding as if she wasn’t sure she believed it. Then she brightened. “Oh! Just so you know, it looks like everything came out the way it was supposed to.”

Erin’s muzzle twitched into a relieved smile. “Good, I’m glad. I don’t want to have to do this again for a while.”

She let her head flump back down into her pillow. She was lying on her back, which was an unexpectedly uncomfortable feeling for her. Twin lumps along her spine pressed into her, pinned tightly by bandages that enveloped her chest. The lumps itched, twitching independant of her will while giving her brain fits trying to figure out where the sensations were coming from. All of which prompted her to ask, “Wings turned out okay?”

“They tell me your wings are fine, dear.” Her mother was smiling, still stroking her mane. “They’re about the same color as your coat. Your horn turned out fine, too.”

“Oh, yeah!” Erin crossed her eyes and looked up. She could just make out the tip of the spiraled horn jutting out of her forehead. Idly, she tried to will the now empty glass by her bedside to raise into the air. Nothing happened. “I hope they got it right this time.”

“I’m sure they did.” Lynne patted her on her shoulder. “Oh, your father just arrived. He wanted to take a shower before he saw you, which is a good thing. He was a little ripe from the drive out.”

Erin giggled at that.

“I think we should get these restraints off of you.” Lynne stood up, leaving her purse behind on her chair. “I’ll go get the nurse, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Erin mumbled as her eyes slowly closed again. She didn’t realize she’d drifted off until she felt a tugging at her lower legs. Her eyes fluttered open to see a grey-haired male nurse loosening the strap around her back left leg.

Erin smiled woozily at him. “Thanks.”

The nurse glanced up at her and smiled. “No problem, kiddo. I’ve already sent out the word to let everyone know that you’re awake, so you may be getting some more guests soon. Just let me know if you start feeling overwhelmed and I’ll kick them out, okay?”

He winked, which got Erin giggling as she thanked him. As soon as he left, Erin began to push herself out of bed, waving off her mother’s offer of help.

“It’s important I figure out how to do this stuff myself, Mom.”

“Fine, you can do what you like,” Lynne said, pulling out her knitting and sitting back down.

Erin hesitated, having managed to get her back hooves onto the floor with the rest of her still up on the bed. She glanced over to see her mother sitting in her chair and scowling while attacking her knitting. Judging by the tone of voice and the unhappy expression, Erin decided that her mother was in “help my child” mode and was upset at having her help denied.

“I could probably use some help brushing out my mane and tail, though,” she offered. “It’s too much to handle by myself when I first wake up after being changed.”

Lynne’s eyes flicked up at the tangled mess on Erin’s head and smiled. “I guess I don’t mind,” she said, satisfied.

Erin started staggering around the tiny hospital room, both to stretch out her muscles and to get used to being a pony again. Her mother pretended to be knitting, though her hands rarely moved and Erin would catch her looking over with both concern and amusement as she stumbled awkwardly around the room..

“How is it?” Lynne asked after a few minutes.

“Easier than the first time.” Erin flinched as her left wing suddenly flung itself open without any apparent input from her brain. She glowered at the offending appendage. I didn’t tell you to open, damn it, she thought. “That is going to take some getting used to, though.”

“You’ll get it,” her mother said with a confidence that Erin didn’t feel.

Erin grunted in frustration as she tried to force the wing closed again. It stubbornly ignored her. Eventually she just gave up and started walking in small, tight circles again.

“You know what the most frustrating thing is, though?” she asked her mother after a while.

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“I keep wanting to spread my fingers and toes, and I can’t. It’s really annoying.”

Lynne made a sympathetic noise, but kept her focus on her knitting. That is, up until the door opened. Erin glanced up to see a mint-green unicorn framed in the doorway, panting and slightly out of breath.

“Erin!” Lyra blurted out. “You’re awake!

Erin offered her friend a smile. “Hi, Lyra.”

“Hi Lyra,” Lynne echoed, causing the unicorn to jump. Apparently, Lyra hadn’t seen her sitting there.

“Lynne!” Lyra smiled, sounding genuinely pleased. “I didn’t know you were back!”

“I flew in yesterday, just in case Erin woke up early.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

Erin had just completed another lap past her window and was on her way back towards the door. “So, how’s work?” she asked.

“Frustrating.” Lyra rolled her eyes. “Also, fascinating. But never mind that.” She waved a hoof dismissively. “Can you sense it?”

“Sense..? Oh! I…” Erin’s attention focused on the torc the unicorn was wearing. “I think so? I feel… it’s like there’s a sort of warm glow coming from it.”

“Yes!” Lyra pumped a hoof in the air. “That’s it! They did it!” A grin spread across her muzzle. “Welcome to the world of magic, Erin!”

Erin’s left wing snapped closed followed by both wings opening partially, the feathers ruffling, though she wasn’t aware of it. Instead, all of her attention was focused on the warm glow coming from the torc around Lyra’s neck. A slightly dopey smile stretched across her face.

“Awesome,” she said dreamily.

The tub and shower unit had been specially designed and at one time had been unique in the Harmonics compound. It was deep enough for Erin to stand in and still have the water come up to her withers, wide enough that she could turn around if she felt like it, and it had steps on one end so that she could get in and out without assistance. After diplomatic relations with Equestria had officially started, Maggie Henson had commissioned the building of over a dozen “pony suites”, which included pony-style bathrooms taken from the footage of Erin’s stay in Ponyville.

Erin soaked in the tub until the hot water stopped steaming and started turning cool. Her mother sat on a stool next to the tub, talking through the latest family news. Erin was only listening with half an ear as her mom rattled on about cousins, nieces and nephews, marriages, fights and reconciliations amongst the family. The hot water felt far too good for her to be able to pay attention, and the remnants of the sedatives made her groggy enough to nearly nod off.

Becoming a pony again felt familiar and odd at the same time. The new wings might have had something to do with that, but her body overall felt different than her first time as a pony. Less awkward in some ways, and more graceful, but weaker. Her coat felt softer and her mane flowed differently, even though it looked pretty much the same. The water was soaking between the feathers, giving her goosebumps and causing an unfamiliar ticklish sensation that set Erin’s teeth on edge.

As if thinking about them had triggered the reaction, both of her wings snapped open widely, the tips banging into the sides of the tub and causing Erin to yelp in surprise and pain.

“Oh, that’s really going to get old.” Erin scowled as she tried to close a wing by pressing on it with a hoof. It refused to close, springing back open every time she let up on the pressure.

“You’re alright, dear?” Lynne asked.

“Yeah. It’s just… weird, I guess. Having new body parts, I mean.”

“You’re not used to that? What with being a pony and all?”

Erin shrugged as she started climbing out of the now tepid water. She nabbed a nearby towel in her teeth, transferred it to her hooves and started drying herself off. “No, not really. I mean, when I first changed, everything had an analogue. Like, my front legs and my arms were pretty much the same, and so on.”

“What about your tail?” Lynne asked as she reached over to the nearby countertop for the Equestrian-made mane comb and brush that Maggie had placed in every pony suite.

“I more or less ignored that and let it do its own thing.” Erin shrugged and smiled. “There’s less to a tail than you might think. Though, yeah, that did feel weird at first. These wings, though…” Erin frowned at them. For some reason, they were half-extended and refused to fold nicely alongside her body. “It’s just really annoying having parts of you that you can’t really control, you know?”

Lynne smiled as she motioned for her daughter to sit down in front of her. Erin complied, and the older woman started running the comb through her mane. Erin tried to keep her flinching to a minimum, but there were too many tangles for things to go painlessly.

“I should just cut it all off,” Erin grumbled after the fifth time the comb caught on a snarl.

“Don’t you dare!” Lynne said, aghast. “It’s too nice to cut it off.”

“It would grow back,” Erin replied defensively. “Besides, short manes are a valid style.”

“Just a little patience and your mane will look lovely, dear.”

“Okay, fi—ouch!”

“Sorry, that was a bad one.”

Erin sighed and resolved herself to putting up with the discomfort.

“Do we need to do anything with your wings?” Lynne asked eventually. “The feathers are looking a bit rough.”

“Um…” Erin glanced down at one wing. The feathers definitely weren’t laying down as neatly as she was used to seeing on pegasi. “I really don’t know. I’ll ask Rainbow or Fluttershy about it when I get back to Ponyville.”

The combing stopped for a few seconds while Lynne leaned forward and hugged her still slightly-damp daughter. “I’ll miss you, sweetie.”

“Aw, Mom.” Erin leaned her head back until her cheek rested alongside her mother’s. “We can definitely visit. I’d want you to come out to Ponyville some time, at least. And maybe I can even have my friends come out to Minnesota!”

“I know, I know.” Lynne released her daughter and, sniffling a little, picked up the brush and started smoothing out the mane with long, firm strokes. “It’s just… everything is so different, now. You’ve gone and grown up on me… not to mention the whole pony thing. It would be nice to have your friends visit, though.”

“Yeah!” Erin perked up a little as she thought about it. “I know Pinkie would love to come, and Twilight. Fluttershy would probably want to stay at home, but Rarity might come along. Rainbow and AJ could go either way, though.”

“I suppose you’ll have to go to Canterlot in order to call us and make arrangements,” her mother said. “Kind of a bother, really.”

Erin hummed lazily. The brushing felt really good. “They’re working on it. They’re using the old surveillance drones as relays between Ponyville and Canterlot, so I should be able to get a connection to the internet whenever the gateway is open. I could call or message you then.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful!”

“Yeah… that’s one thing that took a while to get used to, staying there the first time. No internet!” Erin chuckled. “I wasn’t able to check my email for a couple of months.”

“I’m amazed you survived.” Her mother’s voice was droll. “So, we get to hear from you once a month.”

She sounded sad, and if Erin hadn’t still been slightly damp at that moment, she would have given her mother a hug.

“The Princesses are talking about going to a twice a month or weekly schedule soon,” Erin reminded her. “It won’t be as bad as all that.

Lynne made a noise of agreement and continued brushing. Erin, meanwhile, let her mind drift, idly attempting to make her wings do what she wanted them to do. They would twitch sometimes, but she couldn’t get them working quite right. It was frustrating in the same way as trying to pick a penny up off of a flat surface while wearing heavy gloves; she'd almost feel like she was getting control just for the wings to either go non-responsive or start to spasm.

Eventually, her mane and tail were as brushed as they could be, and she was reasonably dry. Lynne put the brush and comb back on the bathroom counter and stood up.

“Let’s go see your father,” she said with a smile.

John was sitting on his daughter’s bed in her hotel-style room, flipping through the news channels on the wall-mounted TV and desperately hoping to find something that didn’t remind him of Erin’s upcoming move back to Equestria.

So far, it was proving to be exceedingly difficult.

“Word came from the newly-established Equestrian embassy in New York that the exchange rate has been finalized, and will be based off of the price of gold in order to—” *click* “—were seen in shopping centers around the world. The ponies, calling themselves ‘Goodwill ambassadors’, seemed more focused on shopping than—” *click* “—once again a pony, and will be moving to Equestria to—” *click* “—a sort of cultural exchange, where human students will go to Equestria, and ponies will come to Earth, attending school while learning—”

John shut off the TV with a sigh and stood up, making his way to Erin’s kitchenette. He cracked the fridge door open, scowled briefly at the contents and finally pulled out a plastic jug of orange juice. He poured himself a glass and was halfway through drinking it when he heard the bathroom door open.

His brain went fuzzy for a second when he saw the pony who, intellectually at least, he knew was his daughter. Emotionally, he was having as hard a time as ever accepting it.

She looked much like she did the last time she’d been a pony. Small, fragile looking, with a light brown coat. Her sunflower mark almost seemed to shine, looking more real than any tattoo he’d ever seen. The hair of both her mane and tail, still damp from washing, hung down straight and flat, looking darker than the auburn he knew it would be when it dried out. Bright, pine green eyes sought him out, and a happy smile split her muzzle.

“Hi, Dad!” Erin smiled cheerfully. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Uh. Yeah, it was okay.” John looked away, focusing on some random spot on the wall. The situation already felt surreal. Time to introduce some normality, then. “You think you could put something on?”

Erin grunted and rolled her eyes at him. “Jeeze, Dad. Why does it bother you so much if I don’t wear clothes when I’m a pony? You don’t get like this around Equestrian ponies.”

“Equestrian ponies aren’t my daughter,” John answered reasonably. “Please?”

“Ugh, fine.” John knew his daughter well enough to know that the frustration in her voice was laced with at least a little amusement.

As his daughter trotted over to her closet to rummage for something to wear, John smiled at his wife. “How’d it go?” he asked her.

“Pretty good.” Lynne shrugged. “I sort of promised that we’d come out to visit in a month or two.”

“Uh, okay. That’s fine, I guess” John scratched his head and started thinking about vacation times and upcoming projects at work when his wife spoke again.

“And I said that she can come out to the house with her friends any time she likes. She’s hoping she can come out this summer.”

“Huh… Well, okay. That may be a little bit of a media circus, though. I mean, considering who her friends are.” John grimaced and added, “Damned paparazzi. Still watching our house like we’re famous or something.”

“Maybe we could all go somewhere else?” Lynne suggested. In the background, Erin was cursing and struggling her way into something yellow and green, most of the cursing regarding the lack of wing-slits in her old dress.

“Like where?”

“I don’t… Oh! How about your cousin’s farm? That’s remote enough that the press won’t be likely to show up.”

“Ah, I don’t know.” John scratched at his beard. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Lynne asked, glancing over at her daughter, who was doing an interesting little dance as she struggled to get dry cloth over her damp fur.

“I’m just not sure how the ponies would feel about seeing… well, horses and cows and stuff.”

His wife looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds. “Well, we could just ask them instead of just assuming what they will and won’t like, don’t you think?” she asked. “They’re adults, they don’t need us to protect them.”

John glanced over at Erin, who still had the dress stuck over her head, but who’d stopped struggling with it for a moment in order to listen to her mother.

“Well,” John said, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for Erin to just ask her friends. I’ll ask Allie and Jim if they’re interested. Pretty sure they would be. We should keep the date a secret, though.”

“The date for what?” Erin asked, finally rejoining her parents. Her mane was now a frizzled mess. Lynne rolled her eyes and walked back into the bathroom, returning a moment later with the hairbrush.

“The date that your pony friends visit. Your mom and I were thinking it might be nice if they visited the Mathers’ farm.”

“Jeeze, Dad, I haven’t been there in ages.” Erin sat down just outside her kitchenette area, a suspicious look coming into her eyes. “Hey, you didn’t drink the last of my orange juice, did you?”

“There’s still a little bit left,” John replied, holding his hands up defensively. “So, uh… when are they opening that gateway, again?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Erin replied. “I sure hope all the stuff I ordered has arrived.”

“What stuff?” Lynne asked.

“Odds and ends, and some presents for my friends,” Erin said, grinning. “That, and all of the equipment that Maggie ordered for my new place in Ponyville.”

“Oh!” Lynne’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Your first house, and it’s in an entirely different world.”

John gently placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her close, kissing her on the top of her head as they hugged.

“You’ll send us pictures, right, kiddo?” he asked.

“You bet! The drone relay between Canterlot and Ponyville is already set up, so you only have to wait until the next time the gateways are open.” Erin frowned, scuffing a hoof along the floor. “Though, communications will be a lot easier once they get the Ponyville wifi network installed.”

“How long will that be?” John asked.

“Maggie said the technicians would come out the next time they open the gateway, assuming the Princesses are okay going back on a weekly schedule.” Erin rolled her eyes and shrugged. “None of the techs we have contracts with are willing to be stuck on an alien world for a month, it seems.”

John tried to put the fact that his only daughter would be vanishing through that portal to another world in a couple days’ time. Instead, he fell on the one thing he knew best: being a dad.

“Need any help getting all of that stuff organized, kiddo?” he asked.

Erin smiled up at him gratefully. Pony or human, that smile could always melt his heart.

“Thanks, Dad. I’d like that very much.”

John smiled, relaxing a little bit. He might not be able to stop his little girl from leaving her home world, but just for now, he could still be Dad. It felt nice to be needed.

“Alright.” He gave her mane a ruffle, much to Lynne’s obvious annoyance. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Erin couldn't help herself. She was dancing in place, an involuntary grin across her face as she looked longingly at the gateway to Equestria. She could sense the magic, flowing through like sunlight into the world, though she couldn't see it. Instead, it was almost like a sense of warmth, of comfort.

"You seem excited," her mother said.

Erin glanced over, and some of her eagerness faded. Her mom had a look of mingled happiness and sadness on her face, causing a swell of guilt in Erin's chest. She'd been so happy to get going, so eager to try magic, that she'd forgotten that she was saying goodbye to her parents, probably for weeks.

"Oh, Mom." She reared up on her back hooves, hugging her mother tightly as tears stung her eyes. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too, sweetie." Her mother hugged back and started stroking Erin's mane.

Her father’s face was solemn. "I'm gonna miss you too, kiddo."

Erin gave him a smile, and then she turned to give him a hug as well. Eventually, she let go and dropped back to all four hooves.

"I'll write," Erin promised, sniffling. "Just as soon as we get the wifi going, I'll write."

"We'll look forward to it." Lynne still had that sad smile.

Her father cleared his throat. "You'd better get going, hon. You don't want to miss your train, and you said the Princesses wanted to talk to you before you left."

Erin nodded and wiped at her eyes with a foreleg. "I love you both, so much."

One last hug, her parents kneeling down this time to embrace their daughter. A final round of tearful goodbyes, though her father tried to pretend he wasn’t crying. And then Erin turned, walking through the gateway and towards her new life in Equestria.

Author's Notes:

She's back!
Thank you to my editors and pre-readers, in no particular order:
Brilliant Point, Coandco, Ekevoo, Merlos the Mad, Ludicrous Lycan.

Editor’s Note:
Missed you, Erin.

Chapter 03: Home Life

A/N: Erin’s first day back is presented in more detail in the chapter 31 of Project: Sunflower

Erin looked around at the boxes stacked in her new living room and sighed. She'd spent the last hour trying to unpack and she'd barely made a dent. If anything, the room was even more cluttered, thanks to the empty boxes and packing material laying strewn about the floor and occasionally tripping her. And she hadn’t even started unpacking the equipment that Maggie had shipped out in order to help her with her magical research. And then there were the various boxes of mysterious hardware that were needed to set up the town’s wifi network… assuming the technicians ever came out to install it.

One of the first things Erin had unpacked was her tablet, which was now propped up against a box. She took the stylus in her mouth and tapped it, turning the screen on. It was after 9:00, she noted, which meant that the local shops had begun to open.

Unpacking could wait, she decided. She had a lot of shopping to do, after all; her new cottage came unfurnished, and she would need furniture, cleaning supplies and all sorts of miscellaneous stuff to meet her day to day needs.

Her new job as a researcher of magic provided her with a pretty decent monthly stipend, plus there was the money that she had been given by Harmonics in order to get her started in Ponyville. The heavy bag of bits and bars in her saddlebags was just begging to be spent and, with a gleeful smile, she decided that she was more than happy to oblige.

The air outside of her cottage was slightly on the chilly and damp side, causing her to shiver and involuntarily ruffle her feathers. She shut the door behind her and took a moment to look at the cottage she’d rented, the first place she’d ever rented entirely on her own.

It was a modest house, with a kitchen, living room, dining room, a bedroom and a bathroom all crammed in on the first floor. The second floor was only half the size of the first, and included only a large bedroom and a half bathroom. The exterior walls were a creamy white, the trim and door painted a dark green. Like most of the homes in Ponyville, the roof was thatch, which would eventually be replaced by the solar tiles that Erin had requested. Those tiles were still boxed up in her house, waiting for the technicians to arrive from Earth and install them.

A sense of serene satisfaction welled up inside of Erin as she regarded the place. It was like something out of a fairy tale. And it was all hers. She couldn’t help the excited giggle as she opened the gate to her white picket fence and walked out into the streets of Ponyville.

Cafe Kartie, her favorite local place, was halfway across town. As far as Erin was concerned, a daisy and wheatgrass sandwich would make a perfect brunch. So, with that in mind, she took off down the street, humming a happy tune as she trotted along.

The maddening itch was the worst of it, Raka decided. Under the hot lights of the television studio with the cameras staring her in the face, it wasn’t the sweat that tickled its way down her back that bothered her, or even the way her co-panelists argued and bickered. It was how the short hair on her head was itching under her wig of straight black hair that was driving her crazy.

Raka’s hand, which had been inching up towards her head in order to try and sneak in a surreptitious scratch, stopped as she realized the host had asked her a question in response to another panelist’s observation. Which meant that the camera was back on her, which meant that it was time to fold her small, dark hands neatly back into her lap.

“How would you respond to that question, Doctor Nayar?” The host was a dark-haired man in a light blue suit, vaguely handsome in that interchangeable way that the talking head shows seemed to like so much.

“I’d say that it’s beyond silly,” Raka replied with a practiced smile. “The Congressman’s assertion seems to be that, though we’re apparently smart enough to punch holes through reality that lead to other worlds, and to redesign a person into a pony form with nanotechnology, we are all too stupid to think of the possibility of contagions from these other worlds.”

She paused as Senator Jefferson’s outraged voice came from the other side of the table to assert, “That’s not what I said at all!”

He’s turning a quite interesting shade of purple, Raka noted idly before choosing to ignore his outburst.

“We thought of that possibility, of course we did,” she said smoothly. “We’ve been doing intensive testing, and so far we’ve encountered no diseases from the ponies that would infect humans, or vice-versa. And yes,” she continued quickly as the Senator inflated once again, “we are aware of the possibility that there may be something over there that we haven’t seen yet, which is why we are keeping an exceedingly close eye on all traffic through the gateway.”

“And what about when this technology is out of your hands?” Senator Johnson asked. “I mean, it’s only a matter of time before other countries have Harmonics tech, especially with Paul Velchiek having taken refuge with the Russians.”

“I have no comment on Doctor Velchiek.” Raka kept her voice cool and smooth. Velchiek was an amazing theorist, but the Russians would need their own Maggie Henson in order to get their own brand of Harmonics working. “As for whether Harmonics technology will get out to other nations, it already has. The United Kingdom has their own emitter technology, though they’re lacking some of the sophistication that we have here.”

“There. See?” Senator Jefferson leaned forward, scowling. “It puts us all at risk.”

“You weren’t saying that a year ago, Senator,” Raka pointed out.

“A year ago we were facing extinction. Today, we’re not.” The senator leveled an index finger at her. “Unless, that is, some disease comes through one of these holes you people are punching through reality.”

Raka bit her tongue before her first reply of “What do you mean, ‘you people’?” managed to get out. What she said instead was, “We are still at risk of disease, even without Harmonics. A billion people displaced by the Black Tide and crowding into already populated cities and towns is going to have a huge impact.”

“Not worse than an alien pandemic,” Senator Jefferson shot back.

Raka spared him a withering glance. She knew it was no coincidence that the senator wanted to close down relations with Equestria. He spent a lot of time courting the newly-forged “Earth for Humanity” type groups for support. Her eyes flicked over to the third panelist, who was apparently choosing to remain silent for the moment.

Thank goodness for small favors.

“We’re at a greater risk of a pandemic without Equestria,” Raka replied. “The World Health Organization has already seen unprecedented outbreaks of diseases we had long thought under control. Polio and measles, for example. We need Harmonics, because then we can find new homes for people. Reduced population density is one of the best ways to reduce the spread of infectious diseases.” Along with education, sanitation and vaccination, but those weren’t on the list of Raka’s current talking points, so she didn’t bring them up.

“If you’re talking about Zanibra, that’s a very expensive pipe dream,” the senator replied with a dismissive hand-wave. “We spent billions in resources on that purchase, and we ended up with a desert wasteland.”

“That’s a pretty good point,” the host replied.

“No, it is actually a terrible point, dear. Try to keep up.” Raka smiled sweetly at the host’s vexed expression. “Haven’t you seen the latest pictures? With the Equestrian pegasi altering the weather patterns, Zanibra has been getting regular rain for months, now. Equestrian earth ponies are bringing in seed and fertilizer. By the end of the year, the soil will be fertile enough for us to get sustainable crops growing. By the end of the decade, it will be a paradise.”

The third guest, a prim looking woman in her thirties, chose this moment to interject. “Assuming that this ‘Zanibra’ even exists.”

Oh, dear, Raka thought sadly. I do believe we’re in for another bout of insanity.

“I’ve got the evidence, you see, that this whole thing is fake. A gigantic con—”

“As you’ve stated,” Senator Jefferson interrupted, but the conspiracy theorist had the bit in her teeth, now, and refused to stop.

“Don’t you interrupt me, sir! I let you speak!”

“You’re just speaking nonsense!” Senator Jefferson replied.

“No, you are lying to the American… the world population!” The conspiracy theorist pointed an angry finger at the senator. “Nothing, literally nothing we’ve seen of this so-called ‘Equestria’ couldn’t have been produced via computer generated images!”

The senator’s already flushed face darkened further. “Why in the world would we do that?!”

Raka sighed and shook her head. “Oh, you are going to regret asking that,” she murmured as the conspiracy theorist began to expound on her ideas as to why she thought the government would lie about Equestria. The phrases "misappropriation of funds", "smoke and mirrors" and, amusingly, "dog and pony show" were trotted out, sprinkled amidst a few items of what the poor conspiracy theorist no doubt believed to be very convincing evidence.

The other two guests continued their bickering regarding the potential reality of Equestria. Raka kept her mouth shut and simply bided her time until the panel was over, desperately wishing things would hurry up so she could go and get this blasted wig off.

At long last, the discussion was over and cameras were switched off. The conspiracy theorist bolted up from her seat and stomped off in a huff the moment the director called “cut”. Senator Jefferson wasn’t too far behind her, though he decided to exit off of the other side of the stage. Raka, in the meanwhile, had finally slipped the wig off of her head and started scratching at her scalp with a happy sigh.

“Ah. I didn’t know that was a wig.”

Raka cracked an eye open to see the host staring at her with an expression halfway between horrified fascination and amusement on his face.

“Yes, well, a girl has her vanity, you know.” Raka flashed her dimpled smile at him and winked.

“I see. Was it due to chemo or something?”

“Oh, sorry.” Raka held up her phone. “I have to take this.”

He eyed the phone skeptically. “It’s not turned on.”

“Yes, I know.” Raka pressed the power button as she got up and walked away, wig in one hand and the phone in the other, ignoring the insufferable man’s irritated snort.

She found a spot in the back studio that was relatively isolated and noticed several new calls and one new voicemail. The name attached to the voicemail made her hesitate for a moment, considering, before she listened to it. Then she listened to it again, a thoughtful frown upon her face.

It didn’t take her long to decide. Less than ten seconds later, she was calling back the number that had left the voicemail.

“Hi, Maggie,” she said after the other person picked up. “Yes, it’s me. And, as for joining your little expedition, I only have one question.”

“Yes?” Maggie Henson asked from the other end of the line.

“Will I need to do any television interviews?”

Maggie laughed. “No, Raka. Absolutely no interviews.”

“Then I agree.” Raka smiled widely, even though her friend couldn’t see it. “You save me from the talking head circuit, and I’ll lead your little team of inter-reality explorers. When do we leave for Harmony?”

Erin scratched a hoof along one itchy wing, glancing around uncomfortably as she sat on one of the haybales outside of Cafe Kartie. She’d expected to draw some attention, but definitely not this much. Ponies passing by would often do a double-take as they walked by before stopping and staring. Some even had their mouths hanging open as they gaped at her.

Other diners were whispering to each other while stealing glances her way. Whenever Erin looked over, they would jerk their eyes away as if stung. The exception was a group of three pegasi. Two of them were looking over at her and snickering behind their hooves, and not being in any way subtle about it. The third just looked down at her meal, either ignoring or embarrassed by the other two.

If the inside of the cafe hadn’t been so packed, Erin would have asked to have a table indoors. That way, only her fellow diners would be able to stare at her, rather than every pony who passed by on the street.

“This might be a problem,” Erin muttered, moving her scratching to the other wing. The darned things had just started itching on the way over. Not badly, but persistently.

“What might?” Junebug asked.

Erin, who had been too distracted to notice Junebug standing next to her table, jumped a little at the question. The pony waitress had her notepad held in her upturned hoof and was regarding her with a questioning look on her face.

“Oh, um. I’m getting a lot of attention.” Erin shrugged, which caused her wings to unfurl halfway. “I probably should have picked a more subtle form.”

Junebug’s eyes flicked to Erin’s wings and then to her horn before making eye contact again.

“I can understand why. We don’t get many alicorns out here, after all. Though we’ve had the Princesses stop by more often since Twilight moved to town.” She offered Erin a slightly uneasy smile. “You really changed your body, just like that?”

“Well… yeah. I mean, I didn’t do it myself. There was a whole team of humans who did it for me.”

“Wow. So, humans can make alicorns?”

Junebug sounded both troubled and fascinated by the idea. Erin shook her head quickly, determined to head that thought off as quickly as possible.

“I’m not really an alicorn, though. According to Princess Celestia, I’m really just the three different pony types all mushed together in one body.”

“How is that different than being an alicorn?”

Junebug sounded honestly curious. It was a pity that Erin didn’t actually know the answer.

“I have no idea.” Erin grinned weakly and shrugged. “But the Princess told me that I’m not a real alicorn.”

“Oh.” Junebug considered that for a few seconds before nodding. “If the Princess says so, it must be true.” She relaxed slightly and gave Erin a more genuine smile. “So, can I take your order?”

Erin smiled and placed her usual order, after which Junebug scurried off back into the restaurant. As Erin glanced around, she saw that their conversation seemed to have had an unintended, if beneficial, side effect on everypony within earshot. She was still the recipient of many sidelong glances, though the looks now seemed to be more curious than shocked or uneasy.

With any luck, the Ponyville rumor mill would disseminate the story quickly. The last thing Erin needed was everypony thinking she was pretending to be a princess.

Lunch passed without much more in the way of incidents. Her sandwich was just as she remembered it, served on freshly baked bread that had a delightfully nutty flavor to it. The daisies were freshly-picked as well, the wheatgrass was more flavorful than she remembered, and the light sauce over the top complimented it all perfectly. The hay fries, though just as bland and flavorless as she remembered, still managed to be as addictive as ever.

Erin dropped a few bits on the table, along with an extra bit for a tip. She gave a wave to Junebug as she left the cafe, determined to make the most out of the rest of her day.

Rainbow Dash knew she had a reputation around town as a heavy sleeper. This was a reputation that she strongly encouraged, and was helped along by the very true fact that she loved to take frequent naps whenever she could get away with it.

But the truth was, Rainbow wasn’t a heavy sleeper at all. She was simply a stubborn sleeper. The slightest out of place noise could wake her up, but she would simply refuse to acknowledge it until it went away. Then she would drift back to sleep until the next random noise came along and woke her up.

This time, what woke her up was a pair of voices floating past the cloud she’d decided to curl up on.

“And did you see her wings?” a vaguely familiar voice asked.

Rainbow cracked an eye. Somepony sounded like she was only too gleeful to pass along some saucy gossip. Another familiar voice answered the first one.

“I know, right? It was, like, if somepony glued on old, dried-out hay in place of feathers! It was awful!”

The two shared a laugh at that, and Dash felt the corners of her mouth turn down. The laugh had a nasty little edge to it, one she didn’t like. She rolled silently off of her cloud as the other pegasi soared lazily underneath her, dropping in unnoticed behind the two. Scratch that, three ponies. The third one, drifting along behind the others, hadn’t said anything yet.

“I mean, how does anypony get to be that bad at preening?” the second voice asked.

“And did you see that manestyle? Some alicorn she is.”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed as the two began trading quips back and forth, and she realized that she knew these ponies. The pegasi were a group of three who had recently moved here from Cloudsdale and had tried to join the weather team together.

The first voice belonged to Dew, a teal mare with a purple mane. The second, Sunrise, was a pink mare with a white mane. Those two were already on Rainbow’s list of least-favorite ponies in Ponyville. They’d waltzed into the Ponyville Weather Team’s main office and had apparently expected jobs to be just hoofed over to them because they were from Cloudsdale. When they’d been told they would have to be interviewed and pass a test like everypony else, they’d reacted with surprise, and then indignation. As if Ponyville were too backwater to have any kind of standards.

So it was with a certain amount of satisfaction that Rainbow was preparing to give the group a well-deserved verbal beatdown, especially after the “alicorn” comment confirmed her suspicions regarding who it was they were talking about.

She reconsidered the need to berate the other two when the third pony of the little group spoke up. This one had a coat that was almost pure white, just slightly tinged with blue. Her mane was a gold so light that it was almost white. Rainbow remembered that, of the three, this was the only one who hadn’t had a tantrum when told they were expected to pass a test. She’d only asked when and where.

“I don’t like making fun of her like this.” The third pegasus’ voice was soft but firm. “I mean, it’s not like anypony would leave their wings that way on purpose. They’d have to itch like crazy!”

“Oh, why do you have to drizzle all over everything, Sky?” Dew turned to look at the pegasus behind her. “It’s not like—”

She broke off as she met Rainbow Dash’s eyes. The other two, sensing something was up, also looked behind them. Dash, for her part, flashed them all a cocky grin. All four of them stopped, hovering in the air with careful beats of their wings while facing one another.

“I think I know who you’re talking about.” Rainbow smiled, showing some of her teeth when she did. “Light brown pony? Sunflower cutie mark? That sound right?”

“Uh…” Dew said. “Yeah, I guess?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Yeah, those wings are in pretty rough shape. But, the thing is, I’m pretty sure that nopony has told her how to care for her feathers. She’s only had wings for a few days, after all.”

The three ponies exchanged a baffled glance. Rainbow gave her wings a quick flick, shooting forward so quickly that Sunrise and Dew didn’t have a chance to do more than flinch before Dash was between them and draping a foreleg over each of their withers in a friendly fashion.

“See, here’s the thing,” Rainbow said conversationally. “That pony is a friend of mine. And since I don’t like ponies making fun of my friends, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop.”

“What, did you and your friend meet at the messy mane club, or something?” Dew asked.

“Um, could you not touch me?” Sunrise added.

“You obviously don’t know who I am, being new in town and all,” Rainbow Dash said, shaking her head while letting the two of them go. “If you did, you’d know that this is me trying to be nice. I don’t think you want to find out what it’s like when I’m not being nice.”

“Just who the hay do you think you are?” Sunrise asked.

“Rainbow Dash. Captain of the weather team here in Ponyville. Fastest flyer in Equestria, winner of Best Young Flyer two years in a row, member of the Wonderbolts Academy, and the only living pony who can manage the Sonic Rainboom.” She let that sink in for a few seconds before adding, “I’m also a pony who gets pretty mad when ponies say cruddy things about her friends, but who has decided to try talking to you all calm and reasonable-like.” She grinned at them. “See? I’m being nice.”

“Riiight…” Dew flapped backwards a few feet. “Well, we’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

“Yeah, so, we’ll see you later,” Sunrise said, adding in a stage whisper, “Crazy mare.”

Rainbow watched the two of fly off, giggling and whispering to each other while stealing glances back over their shoulders.

“It’s not going to do any good,” the remaining mare said. “They’re just gonna talk about you, instead.”

“Eh, that I can handle.” Rainbow shrugged dismissively. “You might need better friends.”

The other pegasus rolled her eyes. “More acquaintances than friends, really. We all went to school together, that’s all.” She grinned and added, “Besides, if I left them, who would be their voice of reason?”

Rainbow nodded, smirking. “I feel the same way with my friends, sometimes. Anyway, see you around, uh...”

“Blue Sky,” the other pegasus said with a smile.

“Right. Later!”

Blue Sky waved as Rainbow Dash shot off. As she flew, a thought occurred to her. She caught a ring thermal and banked towards her home. There was something there that she needed to pick up.

The ponies waiting outside Quills and Sofas were doing a really poor job of pretending to be just idly passing by, Erin decided. Small clumps of ponies were having overly-nonchalant conversations, all while looking at her out of the side of their eyes.

It might have been a little less suspicious if it weren't for the fact that many of these ponies just happened to be having their nonchalant conversations outside of the last three stores that Erin had visited, as well.

“So, delivery later this afternoon is fine?” the store owner asked as Erin prepared to leave.

“That’s fine, yeah.” Erin tucked the receipts into her saddlebag. “If I’m not there, the door is unlocked. They can just leave the stuff wherever there’s room.”

“Sounds good! I’ll have my delivery guys swing by in a couple of hours, then.”

Erin smiled widely. That was a lot sooner than she’d expected. “Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it, Miss.” He waved as Erin left the store.

With all of the purchases Erin had to make, it hadn’t taken her very long to realize that her saddlebags alone wouldn’t cut it. Not unless she wanted to make dozens of trips back and forth. Fortunately, one of her neighbors had a little two-wheeled cart out in front of their house with a “For Sale” sign on it.

The blue and white unicorn who had sold it to her also sold her the harness that came with it. She even showed her how best to quickly hook herself up to it, which Erin did again as soon as she left Quills and Sofas. The bed of the car was loaded with shopping bags and boxes, the spoils of her day of shopping so far.

“Let’s see,” Erin said to herself as she looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got dishes and silverware, cleaning supplies, bath towels… I could probably use some snacks for later. Oh! I’ll need a bed, too, unless I want to sleep on the couch.”

“Hey! Erin!” a familiar voice called from above.

Erin looked up just as Rainbow Dash spiraled in for a landing in front of her. A familiar pang of jealousy flashed through her, followed by a relatively new sense of anticipation when she remembered that she had wings, now. Flying lessons couldn't happen soon enough.

“Hi, Rainbow! What’s up?”

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for ya!” Dash flipped her wings closed with a flourish. “I was thinking about how cruddy your wings looked, and I got ya this.”

Erin blushed and glanced back at her wings as Rainbow stuck her nose in her saddlebags. After a moment of digging, she popped out with a book in her teeth. Erin took it in her hooves when her friend offered it.

The book cover was in a light pastel peach and depicted a smiling pegasus filly with her wings spread. The title read A little filly’s guide to wing care, with the word “little” crossed out with black marker and “awesome” written above it.

“Oh, thanks!” Erin cracked open the cover. “I’m pretty sure I’ll need this.”

“No problem.” Rainbow glanced away as she rubbed at her foreleg with the opposing hoof. “I just remembered that I had that sitting around somewhere. I haven’t needed it in years, so I thought you could have it.”

Erin was staring at the first page, which had been printed mostly blank except for the title of the book. Under the title were words written in purple ink which said, in a delicate cursive, “To the world’s most beautiful filly! Take care of your wings and they’ll carry you anywhere! Love, Mom.”

“Oh, Rainbow.” Erin was genuinely touched. “Are you sure I can have this?”

Dash frowned. “Yeah. I said so, didn’t I?”

“Aww… Thanks!”

Erin reached out for her only to have her friend shy back.

“Ah! No hugging in public!” Dash backed away, waving her forehooves and blushing. “Come on, Erin!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Erin said, chuckling. She took a moment to put the book carefully in her saddlebags. “Thank you, Dash. I’ll take good care of it.”

“No problem. You’ll probably want to pick up a wing kit, too. Head to Whirlygig’s over on Pond Lane. That has all the brushes and stuff you’ll need. The Feathermaster 200 set is the best, but it's kind of pricey.” Rainbow frowned at Erin’s wings, the feathers of which were twitching. “Get some feather conditioner, too. Your wings are really dried out. No way I can teach you flying until you get them in better shape.”

“Oh.” Erin blushed as she looked at her wings. “Yeah, I didn’t really know how to care for them.”

“It shows.” Rainbow rolled her eyes, flexing her own wings and ruffling her feathers.

The contrast between Erin’s feathers and Dash’s was amazing. It was easy to look at Rainbow’s windblown mane and ruffled coat and think that she didn’t care about grooming, but one look at her wings would give lie to that thought. Each feather gleamed, laying perfectly aligned with its neighbors and with not so much as a single vane out of place. Erin’s, on the other hand, looked like they’d been made by a kindergarten class out of construction paper, broken feathers and glue.

“I’ll make it a priority,” Erin promised.

“Yeah, well… you’d better. I need a new flying buddy!” Rainbow grinned, which Erin echoed with one of her own. “Well, I gotta get home. I’ll see you later, Erin!”

“Bye, Rainbow!” Erin waved her left foreleg in farewell, not noticing that this made her left wing pop out and waggle in sync.

Her friend was quickly out of sight. Erin became aware of all the eyes on her once again, all the little groups of ponies that seemed to have nothing better to do than stare at her. She shook her head and wondered when the interest in her would die down.

Pond Lane was only a couple of streets away. Erin found Whirlygig’s Flight Emporium pretty quickly, unhitched her harness, and stepped inside.

It wasn’t a large store. In fact, if more than three ponies were in it at once, they’d be pretty crowded. There was a long counter with a glass front and top, under which were displayed various brushes, combs, tweezers and clippers, presumably all of which served some function for wing care.

A wire rack in the corner had a sign that read “Feather Products - Only the Best!”. It was loaded with bottles and jars of different conditioners, waxes and oils. The wall across from the counter had various pennants, posters and signs tacked on the wall, reading everything from “Proud to be a pegasus!” to “Have wings, will travel!” There were also a few Wonderbolts posters, a poster for the Cloudsdale Thunderflash hoofball team, and miscellaneous others.

A few other odds and ends dotted the walls, many of which Erin didn’t recognize. But there was a small bookshelf, which Erin wandered up to out of habit. She smiled when she recognized a brand new copy of A little filly’s guide to wing care in the middle of it, right next to a similar one for colts.

She was reaching for the book when a shockingly bright yellow pegasus stallion with an electric blue mane bustled out of the back room, carrying a big cardboard box. He stopped and stared at Erin just long enough for her to start feeling uncomfortable before breaking out into a huge grin.

“Another customer! A banner day, for sure!” he exclaimed. “A real pleasure, miss! I’m Whirlygig. What can I get for ya?”

“Oh, uh. I’m Erin. Or Sunflower. Whichever you prefer. I’m, uh, looking for wing care items?”

He eyed her wings critically. “And not a moment too soon, I’d say. I’ve seen worse-cared-for feathers, but not usually on a mare your age. Oh!” His eyes widened. “Not that you look old, ma’am! I mean, miss!”

Erin couldn’t help laughing. This stallion, with his frantic energy, rapid speech and eager demeanor, reminded her just a little of Pinkie Pie. With a smile, she said, “My friend Rainbow Dash suggested I pick up some feather conditioner and something called a Feathermaster 200. Would you have that in stock?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Whirlygig flipped the cardboard box off of his back with his wings. “I just sold the one I had up front earlier today and had to get another one out of the back room.”

He stuck his face into the box and a moment later surfaced with a metal case in his teeth, about the length of Erin’s foreleg. It was painted sky-blue with white piping, and had “Feathermaster 200” written in red script across the front.

“For conditioner, I’ve got a pretty wide variety. But most mares like the Soft Rainfall brand. Comes in a variety of scents, though cinnamon apple is the most popular right now.”

“I’ll take a bottle of that, and then the brushes.” Erin pulled her bit bag out of her saddlebags. “How much?”

“Well, try not to panic.” Whirlygig made motions with his hooves that were probably intended to be comforting as an uneasy smile crept over his face. “The Feathermaster line is the best, and none better, but it’s gonna run you one hundred and fifty bits.”

“One hundred… wow,” Erin said, eyes wide.

“Yeah, but you’re getting the best quality with these!” Whirlygig said. “And there’s a full jar of premium Feathermaster feather wax inside. Not only that, but a lifetime replacement guarantee. Anything happens to these brushes, you just mail ‘em back to the company and they replace it, free of charge.”

“Well…” Erin thought it over. “Yeah, why not? I can afford it.”

“Wonderful!” Whirlygig grinned. He put the brush case and a bottle of conditioner into a long-handled bag for her while Erin dug out four bars, each bar worth a hundred bits. “You know, it’s funny, but I made this exact same sale about two hours ago.”

“Oh?” Erin asked as she scooped her change back into her bit bag.

“Yeah. Real nice mare, awful pretty.” He hesitated a moment, then his eyes widened. “Oh! Not that you aren’t pretty too, miss!”

Erin laughed again. “Thanks, Whirlygig. I’ll see you around.”

“Later, miss! Please stop by anytime for all your flying needs. I can’t wait to tell everypony I had an alicorn shopping here!”

“Oh, I’m not a real alicorn.” Erin winked at him and grinned. “I just happen to look like one.”

“Oh, uh…” Whirlygig flicked his eyes up to her horn and back to her face, a look of confusion over his features. “Okay?”

“Bye, now!” Erin said, waving as she left.

The bag with the Feathermaster case and the bottle of conditioner went into the wagon, and Erin once again wriggled into her harness. She decided that enough was enough, as far as shopping went. It was getting late in the afternoon, and Pinkie was throwing a grand “Welcome back to Ponyville” party for her later on.

It would be nice, she decided, to do a little work on her wings before going to the party. Besides, maybe then they’d stop their infernal itching.

She was just approaching her fence when she realized that she had company. Fluttershy was waiting patiently outside of her front door, sitting next to the sidewalk with a large bag by her side. When she saw Erin approaching, Fluttershy stood and waved, a gentle smile on her face.

“Fluttershy, hi!”

“Hi, Erin.” Fluttershy moved towards the gate. “Let me get that for you.”

“Thanks, Fluttershy.” Erin flashed a grateful smile as she maneuvered her loaded cart through the gate. “Would you like to come in?” she asked as she removed the wagon’s harness.

“Oh, yes, please! I would like to see your new house,” Fluttershy said. “But first… I brought you something.”

“Oh?” Erin opened the door and led the way in.

“Yes. I, um… some of the girls and I were talking about it this morning, and we decided to get you a present.” Fluttershy reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar blue and white case with red lettering on it. “It’s a Feathermaster. It’s supposed to be pretty good.”

“Oh, Fluttershy,” Erin took the case with a sinking feeling in her chest. “Are you sure? This is really expensive.”

“They’re a little pricey, but that’s okay.” Fluttershy smiled warmly. “It’s a present, after all.”

“Wow.” Erin was honestly touched. And also honestly thinking about the bag she had with her own purchase in it. “Fluttershy, I uh…”

“Oh, no.” Fluttershy’s face scrunched up alarmingly. “You don’t like it?”

“No! I mean, ‘Yes’, yes I like it! It’s just that…” Erin sighed. A little honesty now would prevent potential pain later, after all. “It’s just that I went to Whirlygig’s earlier and bought one myself.”

Fluttershy blinked. “You did?”

“Um. Yes?” Erin said cautiously. “Please don’t be upset! I’m so happy that you all thought of me!”

Fluttershy tilted her head, her smile breaking out like the sun from behind the clouds. “Actually, I think it’s kind of funny.”

“Yeah.” Erin grinned. “But I still want to thank you. I mean, between you and Rainbow Dash, I should be all set for wing care!”

“Oh? What did Rainbow get you?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Erin pulled the book out of her saddlebags.

Fluttershy took the book with a gentle smile, laughing softly at the word replacement in the title.

“Well,” she said, passing the book over to Erin. “We still have a couple of hours before Pinkie’s party. Would you like some help getting your feathers in shape?”

Erin, who had been growing more and more acutely aware of how badly her new wings were itching, sagged with relief. “Yes, please. That would be wonderful!”

“All right, then.” Fluttershy smiled gently. “Let’s get started.”

Author's Notes:

~

Thanks, as always, to my editing team (in random order): Coandco, Ekevoo, Ludicrous Lycan, Brilliant Point and Merlos the Mad

Link to blog post: http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/307277/ps-harmony-chapter-03-is-up

Chapter 04: Feathers and get-togethers

Before the conditioner could be applied, there had to be an initial grooming. Fluttershy had carefully worked a flat brush with tiny hooked bristles along each of Erin’s wings. This had caught on the waxy shoots that encased the new feathers, and had pulled a few dead feathers and broken vanes loose, dropping them on the floor of her bathroom.

Fluttershy had then wetted down Erin’s wings and carefully worked in the thick, almost solid conditioner into the feathers, where it foamed up to an alarming degree. Erin’s first attempt to follow the instructions on the bottle by holding her wings outstretched and level had led to a long moment of unresponsiveness, followed by a violent spasm that had flung foamy conditioner all over her walls and had just barely missed Fluttershy.

For now, Erin lay on her belly on the freshly-scrubbed tiles of her bathroom floor with her wings stretched out on either side of her. Having her wings supported by the floor itself just seemed the easier and safer option.

“You’ll have to get used to moving them eventually,” Fluttershy pointed out several minutes into the treatment.

Erin grimaced but nodded. “Yeah. I’m just having a really hard time with them right now, is all.”

“I understand,” Fluttershy said with a soft smile. “But you can’t fly until you can control them.”

Erin sighed and laid her muzzle on the floor between her forehooves. The smell of lemon-scented disinfectant stung her nostrils, both harsh and oddly comforting.

“How much longer until we can rinse this stuff off?” Erin asked.

Fluttershy picked up the bottle in her hooves and frowned at the instructions. “I think it’s been enough time with the conditioner in. We can rinse them off now.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Erin replied, finally getting back on her hooves and stretching some kinks out.

Fluttershy offered her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of using your wings eventually.”

Erin frowned and shook her head. “I’d like to think so, but Malachite was able to fly right away after he’d built his body.”

“Maybe he did something differently?” Fluttershy turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up. “He knew more about pony biology than humans do, after all. Um. No offense.”

“None taken. He definitely did.” Erin tried to repress a habitual shudder at the thought of the creature that had once possessed her. She failed.

Fluttershy gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder before she took Erin’s detachable shower head in her mouth and began rinsing off her wings. The thick, sudsy foam sluiced off of her feathers and spiralled lazily down the drain, making her wings feel so much lighter, even with the water trapped between the feathers.

After a few minutes, Fluttershy was satisfied with the rinsing and turned off the faucet. Already Erin noticed a huge difference, though the wings being waterlogged probably had a little to do with that. The feathers were mostly lying flat now, meaning that they looked a little less like a haystack. Erin let out a relieved sigh as she noted that the itching was completely gone.

“You want to just pat gently with the towel,” Fluttershy said as she used one of Erin’s brand-new fluffy bath towels to dry a wing. “Don’t rub. You could break feathers if you rub.”

“Okay.” Erin looked her friend in the eye and smiled. “Fluttershy, thanks so much for doing this.”

Fluttershy smiled warmly back. “Oh, I’m happy to do it.”

Silence reigned while Erin’s wings were carefully dried, though they remained slightly damp towards the skin where the towel couldn’t quite reach.

“Try flapping them gently for a while,” Fluttershy suggested. “They’ll dry faster.”

“Uh, they haven’t exactly been cooperative.” Erin gave the wings a dubious look. “I can give it a shot, though.”

Erin, her face screwed up in concentration, tried with increasing frustration to get her wings to do what she wanted them to. They’d moved on their own before, but she simply couldn’t figure out how to make them move when she wanted them to.

Fluttershy was nothing but patient, offering only words of encouragement whenever Erin felt her frustration rising. When one wing finally twitched, apparently in response to her mental command, the surprise completely shattered Erin’s concentration, causing the wing to flop towards the floor.

“Hey, I moved it!” Erin grinned widely at her wing, which was starting to fold itself back up against her side, though she wasn’t sure if that was because she wanted it to or because it was just the natural resting position for wings.

“Congratulations,” Fluttershy responded softly with a gentle smile on her face.

Her excitement turned out to be counter-productive, and several minutes passed without Erin managing to get either one to do anything more than twitch slightly.

Eventually, Fluttershy took pity on her. “It’s okay. You can stop, now.”

Erin grumbled and let her twitching wings return to rest, then stared in fascination as the feathers ruffled themselves. She was going to ask Fluttershy if that was normal or not, but her friend had already gone over to the Feathermaster case and pulled something out of it.

“This is the loose comb.” Fluttershy held up a comb with wide gaps between serrated triangular teeth. The comb had a strap that went around Fluttershy’s hoof, holding it firmly in place. “It’s usually used just to get the feathers all lying in the same direction, like so.”

Ever so carefully, Fluttershy dragged the comb through Erin’s feathers, causing an involuntary squeak of pleasure to erupt from her throat. It felt incredibly good, which distracted Erin enough that she didn’t notice that her right wing slumped towards the floor.

Fluttershy giggled but didn’t stop combing. Long, practiced strokes of the loose comb made quick work out of grooming the feathers of Erin’s left wing. When Fluttershy finished, Erin glanced over and was amazed by how much the appearance of it had improved. Though not as glossy or well-groomed as Fluttershy’s wings, the feathers were clean and lying flat with the vanes all facing in the same direction.

“Why don’t you try to do the other one?” Fluttershy removed the strap from her hoof and passed it over.

“Okay,” Erin said doubtfully, attaching the brush strap to her own hoof. It took a few false starts, but eventually she managed to get the comb moving in a rough approximation of Fluttershy’s more graceful strokes.

Grooming her own wing was slightly surreal, Erin decided a minute or so into the process. Her brain had given up its protests for the most part, instead settling into a confused muttering regarding the new appendages, but it helped to link the sensations she was feeling with the action of the comb as she moved it through her feathers, guided by Fluttershy’s advice.

It took quite a bit longer than her left wing, but Erin finally had her right wing combed to Fluttershy’s satisfaction.

“And now the wax.” Fluttershy held up a jar and yet another comb, this one much smaller and finer-toothed than the previous one. “Usually, a pegasus can save a few bits and just use the preening glands under her wings, but your feathers are really dry at the moment and will take more than the glands can supply right now, so we might as well use this.”

“Preening glands?” Erin asked, nonplussed.

“Like this.” Fluttershy raised her right wing and tucked her head into the pit between her wing and shoulder, rubbing her muzzle. She came up a moment later with an oily-looking sheen on her nose, which she rubbed along a wing. When she was done, she took the bath towel and wiped the rest of the residue off of her face.

Erin realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. “I have one of those?”

Fluttershy giggled. “Of course. There wasn’t always such a thing as feather wax, you know. We had to oil our wings somehow.”

Erin stared suspiciously at her left wing for a long moment before gently nudging her nose under it. Figuring she was more or less in the right spot, she gave her “wing pit” a little rub with her muzzle, almost immediately finding a slightly gelatinous lump. She drew back, caught between fascination and revulsion, and then cautiously went back and nudged it firmly with her nose.

A warm pulse of something shot out, and Erin shrieked in dismay as she yanked her head out from under her wing. “It went up my nose!,” she cried in disgusted panic.

Fluttershy was giggling softly into her hooves as Erin spat and snorted, trying to get the whatever-it-was off of her face and out of her sinuses. It dried quickly, leaving a dusty residue on her face, which Fluttershy wiped off with a towel.

“Now, now, it’s not going to hurt you. It’s to protect and waterproof your feathers. It’s good for you!”

“Sorry,” Erin mumbled. Then she realized something. “It doesn’t smell. I mean, it doesn’t smell like anything.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “No, it’s not supposed to. If it does, that means the gland is infected, and you should see a doctor.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Sometimes.” Fluttershy shrugged. “You’ll notice some pain under your wing long before it starts to smell bad, though, so you’ll have plenty of warning.”

Erin’s wings once again both felt and looked alien and strange to her. And just as I was getting used to them, came the wry thought.

Once again, Fluttershy led the way by example, showing Erin how to apply the wax to some of the feathers on her left wing and then having Erin do the rest. It was an incredibly tedious process, the comb only being large enough to do one feather with just the slightest amount of gelatinous oil from the jar at a time. In order to speed things up, Fluttershy got a second wax comb from the other Feathermaster case in order to work on Erin’s right wing.

“Oh, Fluttershy, don’t you want to return that?” Erin asked.

Fluttershy shook head. “I’ve always wanted one of these sets. My old comb set was passed down from my grandmother and is in pretty rough shape.”

“You’re sure?” Erin asked.

Fluttershy nodded. “Very sure. I’ll keep the one you bought, and you keep the one I bought, and that way it’s like we bought each other very nice presents. Okay?”

Erin couldn’t help but laugh. “You got it,” she said with a smile.

“And, next time I come over, I’ll show you how to use the rest of the brushes and combs and other things in there, okay?”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Fluttershy!”

“Of course! Now, let’s get those wings done, so you look nice for your party.”

It was only twenty minutes before Erin’s “Welcome Back to Ponyville!” party was scheduled to start when they finally wrapped up. Erin looked at her wings in mild dismay. The wax had dried into a filmy residue, making her wings look dull and dusty, with a greyish cast to them.

Fluttershy smiled at the look on her face. “Follow me,” she said, taking the bath towel and leaving the bathroom, leading Erin through her living room and out to her front yard. “You always want to do this part outside, okay?”

“Um, okay,” Erin said, shifting from hoof to hoof uncertainly. “What part?”

“Open your wings,” Fluttershy said, spreading her own wings in example, “and flap them as hard as you can.”

Erin blinked at her, confused. “What?”

“Go on!” Fluttershy gave her an encouraging nod. “Like this,” she said, suiting words to action as she pumped her own wings.

Erin shrugged, then scowled at her wings, willing them to do anything other than just lying there like lumps. The feathers ruffled again, causing a small cloud of silvery dust to float out of her feathers.

After a few minutes with no flapping, Erin let out a frustrated groan and stomped her right forehoof. To her surprise, her right wing flapped when she did so. She stomped again, but this time the wing ignored her.

She closed her eyes and raised her right leg, concentrating on the muscles she felt moving as she did so. Her wing moved, but as soon as Erin opened her eyes to look at it, it snapped shut again with another puff of dust. It was annoying, but at the same time, Erin felt more hope than she had all day.

“Okay, this is probably going to look silly,” she said to Fluttershy.

Erin started marching in place with her front legs, and, sure enough, her wings started flapping along, alternating in time with her hoof-stomps. Fluttershy gaped at her for a few seconds before she broke into giggles, which triggered Erin’s own giggle-reflex. The two of them stood there in Erin’s front yard with Erin stomping and her wings going up and down like semaphore flags while small clouds of dried-up wax dust puffed out.

When the dust eventually stopped billowing out, Fluttershy told her to stop the flapping. After a quick rub-down with the bath towel, Fluttershy pointed a hoof at her wings and said, “Look.”

Erin looked. Then she gasped, amazed. “They’re beautiful!”

“And they’re waterproof,” Fluttershy said with a satisfied nod. “You’ll want to do this once a week, if you use the wax in the jar. Or, you can just do a little bit each night, if you use the preening glands under your wings. You can use your hooves if you don’t want to use your muzzle. Just rub it on the dullest spots and flap it off like you just did.”

Erin shuddered. “I think I’ll use the wax, thanks.”

Fluttershy smiled sympathetically. “I understand. Non-pegasi sometimes find that to be a little creepy.” She shrugged, adding, “And some pegasi think they’re too good to use the natural stuff.”

“Is it better to use the wax?”

“It depends on what kind you buy,” Fluttershy said. “The Feathermaster brand is one of the better kinds. It’s the kind Rainbow Dash uses, and she wouldn’t ever put anything bad on her wings.” She blushed and added, “I usually just use the natural stuff.”

“Oh.” Erin considered it for a little while. “It’s not really all that creepy, I guess. It was just unexpected.”

She offered a weak smile to Fluttershy, who smiled gently back before saying, “Well, I think it’s time we head over to Sugarcube Corner, don’t you think?”

“Hold on,” Erin said. She stepped forward and gave Fluttershy a hug around the neck. “Thank you.”

Fluttershy hugged her back with a warm smile on her face. “You’re very welcome.”

“Okay,” Erin said, releasing her friend and dropping back to all four hooves. “Now we can go to that party!”

At long last, the streamers were hung, the balloons filled, and the party favors were displayed prominently next to the door of Sugar Cube Corner. Everything was perfect, and all that remained was for the guests to arrive.

On Snack Table Dulcia was a mountain of cupcakes, piled up in all colors of the rainbow, as well as cookies, brownies, and various shortbreads and other sugary baked goods. Snack Table Gustatio Prime held the less sweet but more filling snacks, the cheese and crackers, breads and rolls, chips and dips. It also held the large crystal punch bowl with the ultra-special super-secret punch formula passed down from Pie to Pie to Rockwell—Great-Granny Rockwell having changed her name for tax reasons—to a couple more Pies, and finally to Pinkie Pie herself.

The games were ready. The food was ready. The banner… was drooping a little, but it only took a moment of work with the stepladder to get it back where it belonged.

Pinkie looked around with pride, knowing she’d done everything—

“The music!” Pinkie cried and bolted out of the room, only to return a moment later with the Cake’s phonograph on a rolling table. She parked it in the corner and sighed with relief before picking up where she’d left off.

—knowing she’d done everything there was to do, and now all that was left was to wait until the guests arrived.

This was one of Pinkie Pie’s very most favorite of times: that moment of anticipation, right before a party started. The uncertainty of not knowing whether everypony would show up or not, though they almost always did. Not knowing if the party would go well, though she’d never thrown a dull party in her life. All of the emotions which made the butterflies go all flit-flittering around in her tummy and making her feel energetic, scared and a little bit sick, all at once.

In fact, it reminded her of hot-sauce cupcakes, all tasty sweet and spicily upsetting. All of that was rolled up into a tense little ball in her chest that almost made her want to explode. Then somepony knocked on the door and the tense little ball in her chest did explode. Pinkie couldn’t have stopped the grin on her muzzle even if she’d been silly enough to try.

Ponies had a tendency to show up early for Pinkie Pie Parties, a fact that Pinkie took into account by making sure that everything was ready at least half an hour before the scheduled start time. Which is why she wasn’t surprised, though maybe a little disappointed, that it wasn’t the guest of honor at the door. Instead, standing there with hopeful expressions, were three of the ponies who helped to make up the happy background of life in Ponyville.

She still welcomed them warmly, of course. A guest was a guest, even if they weren’t the guest of honor. After all, the party was for everypony, not just Sunflower. Still, there was a not-so-small part of her that was itching for Sunflower to just hurry up and get here.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Pinkie said as she ushered the smiling ponies inside. “Help yourself to any snacks, if you like, but leave the cake for now. It’s gotta wait until Sunflower shows up!”

“Is she really a human?” Flitter blurted out, wide-eyed, and Pinkie could tell that it had been on her mind for a while.

Cloudchaser, who had walked in with her, seemed just as eager for an answer. The third pony who had walked in, Pokey Pierce, had barely said “hello” before he made his way over to Snack Table Gustatio Prime. He was loading up a plate with cheese and crackers and seemingly uninterested in Sunflower’s potential human-ness, which Pinkie thought was kind of weird but also kind of a good thing at the same time.

“Yah-huh!” Pinkie replied, bobbing her head.

“That’s so weird!” Cloudchaser said. “I remember her from before. She looked just like a normal pony!”

“She looks like an alicorn, now,” Flitter said with a pinchy look on her face.

Pinkie waved a dismissive hoof. “Yeah, but it’s just pretend. She’s not an alicorn like the Princesses, she just kinda looks like one.”

That answer seemed to please the pair of them, because they both went “Huh” at the same time and wandered off to Snack Table Dulcia in order to peruse the goodies. Pinkie would have gone with them to direct them through their choices, but somepony else knocked on the door before she had the chance.

After that, it was a steady flood of ponies that came into the large main room of Sugarcube corner. Twilight showed up with Spike, who had brought some of his own scrumptious cookies to put on Snack Table Dulcia. Rarity and Applejack showed up at the same time, and Rainbow Dash somehow managed to sneak in when Pinkie’s back was turned and almost immediately started stuffing her muzzle with a cupcake or three. Or four.

It was a good thing, Pinkie decided, that she had so many spares still in the kitchen.

Even though she had to keep an eye on the guests and make the occasional kitchen run to be sure the food remained well-stocked, Pinkie managed to keep her other eye on the door. It was with no small amount of relief that she noticed Sunflower herself, with Fluttershy in tow, walking through the door just five minutes before the official start time, which was still plenty early but also close enough to being late to make sure the butterflies in Pinkie’s tummy had plenty of exercise.

As soon as Sunflower walked through the door, Pinkie jumped up on a nearby table, stood on her back hooves and shouted, “Okay, everypony! Just like I told you! Three, two, one…!”

And, just like magic, or friendship, or both, everypony in the room shouted very nearly at the same time, “Welcome to Ponyville!”

Sunflower smiled a happy smile, a #15, which was one of Pinkie’s personal favorites: surprise and joy and a happy warmth inside because she never thought that so many ponies would be so enthusiastic in welcoming her.

“Thank you, everypony!” Sunflower said, with the definitely-not-unhappy sort of tears in her eyes, and inside her heart Pinkie could hear the music soaring.

Pinkie did a happy little dance on her table while chanting, “Speech! Speech!”

Other ponies took up the chant, stamping their front hooves. Sunflower’s face got all panicky before shooting Pinkie a desperate and pleading look. Pinkie tipped her a wink as she hopped off of the table. Her friend might not be happy about giving a speech right now, but something told Pinkie that it would save a lot of bother later on.

Sunflower finally gave in to the inevitable, and the ponies in Sugarcube corner quieted down as she cleared her throat.

“I, um… Well, thank you so much for the welcome,” Sunflower said, her face getting a little on the red side. “I guess you’ve all heard by now that I used to be a human. Um…”

Her face scrunched up, and Pinkie made a “get on with it” motion with her hoof, which caused Sunflower to snort with laughter and shake her head.

“I know some ponies are upset because I was hiding that before.” Sunflower drooped her ears a little and rubbed a hoof on her foreleg. “I really am sorry about that. I wouldn’t have done it, but we were desperate.”

The crowd murmured, and several ponies shifted on their hooves. Not Dashie, though. She was ignoring the speech and was instead busily cramming cheese and crackers into her mouth as if it were a competition.

“I wanted to come back to Ponyville to study magic,” Sunflower continued. Her blush got a little redder. “It’s true that humans don’t have any magic of our own, which is why I look like this. I wanted to be able to study all types of pony magic at once.”

“What a great idea!” Pinkie said in a deeper-than-normal voice from the back of the crowd where she had planted herself. The other ponies started turning around to see who had said that, but Pinkie had already ducked down under a table and scooted away, unseen, only to pop up on the other side of the room, looking casual.

“The reason I picked Ponyville was… well, I’ve never met a kinder and more welcoming group of people than here,” Sunflower said with a shy smile. “I really hope we can all be friends.”

A silent few seconds passed. It got a little awkward. And then Sunflower said, “Um. I guess that’s it. Thanks!”

The cheering started up again, went on for long enough for Sunflower to cycle through another blushing phase, and finally it was time to get the party going.

Pinkie was in her element, dancing from pony to pony, group to group, getting everypony to play games, or eat, or dance to the music that she started playing on the phonograph. It took a few minutes for Sunflower to calm down enough after her speech to relax.

Mingling ensued. Pinkie, though she wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally, overheard a lot of conversations. Most of them were about Sunflower.

“I’m fine with it, honestly,” Roseluck at one point said to Daisy. “I mean, it’s kind of exciting! She’s an alien, a human, and an alicorn studying magic all in one!”

Daisy nodded. “She seemed nice enough before I knew she was a human. So, I’m okay with it, too.”

At a later time, she overheard Lucky saying to another pony, “She’s a good worker. Always did her job, and then some.”

Pinkie stopped and stared at the pony Lucky was talking to. She hadn’t invited the stallion to the party. She knew this for a fact, because she didn’t recognize him. The stallion was a grey earth pony with a reddish mane, wearing a flat-brimmed straw hat, a black vest and a bow tie. His cutie mark was a notepad and pencil which, combined with his wardrobe, set off some alarm bells in Pinkie’s mind.

This, Pinkie decided, required investigation, even though she’d left her investigating hat up in her bedroom. She sidled up next to the unknown stallion as Lucky walked away. He had produced a pencil from somewhere and held it in his teeth as he wrote busily in a tattered notebook.

“What’cha doooooin’?” Pinkie said loudly from right next to him.

The stallion jumped in the air and went “Gah!” before turning to look at her with scared eyes. “Where the heck did you come from?!”

Pinkie Pie blinked at him. “You mean just now, or originally?” When he just stared at her, she said, “I was born on a Tuesday on a rock farm a couple of hours away from Ponyville by train—”

“What? No!” He bent down and picked up his notepad from where he dropped it, then spat it out into his hoof. “I mean… Uh. Well, I was just writing, is all.”

“What, like a book or something?”

“Uh, something like that.”

The stallion flashed her a slightly greasy smile, one of Pinkie’s least-favorites, a #98: nervous and not-quite-lying and hoping she’d just go away and leave him alone.

Pinkie countered with a #74: vapid and clueless. “Wow. I wish I could write a book! What’s that like? Have you written many books? What’s it about? Is it a scary story? A funny story? Or maybe it’s an adventure story? Do you write it all in that notebook? How does it get from your notebook to a regular book? What newspaper do you write for?”

The reporter, because obviously that’s what he was, looked a little dazed. “Canterlot Times,” he said automatically. “Wait! No, I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Pinkie said. “I don’t mind you being here.” Then she frowned. “But you shouldn’t be pretending you’re not a reporter. That’s not nice. Are you trying to get somepony to say something mean about Sunflower?”

The reporter frowned. “My sources say her name is ‘Erin’.”

“Your sources are wrong and not at the same time.” Pinkie treated him to a wink. “I like Sunflower better, so that’s what I call her.”

“Oh…”

“So, are you printing a nice article or a mean article?” Pinkie asked. “Only we had this problem a while ago with a gossip columnist who hurt everypony’s feelings, and I’d hate to see that happen to a friend of mine.”

“It’s going to be an honest article!” The reporter was looking all offended, now.

“Okay, that’s good. But if it’s going to be honest, maybe you should do your reporting honestly?”

“Ponies tend to hide what they know from reporters. I’d rather they speak candidly.”

“Okay, I understand… um, what’s your name? I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘the reporter’.”

“The name is Typeset,” he said as he tipped his cap.

“Nice to meet you, Typeset,” Pinkie said with a smile that slowly faded away. “Please, don’t hurt my friend.”

Typeset frowned at that. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Words can hurt,” Pinkie said softly, for once disregarding a party that was still in full swing around her. “They can hurt more than just about anything. Just… please, remember that.”

“I… I will,” he said, looking a little shaken.

Pinkie smiled at him again and started walking away. Then she stopped and looked back. “Oh, and make sure to try the punch! It’s a special recipe!”

Typeset smiled hesitantly back. “I’ll do that,” he said.

Contrary to what many ponies may have believed, Princess Luna’s Night Court didn’t actually take place overnight, when most ponies were asleep. Instead, it convened after the end of Luna’s dinner in the early evening, and wrapped up shortly before it was time to raise the moon.

Luna had other duties for the actual night. Duties that she began shortly after she finished raising the moon over the darkened landscape of Equestria. It was with a sense of satisfaction that she watched her charge rise beyond the horizon, brightening the night. It had taken months after she’d returned from her banishment for her to regain enough strength to once again perform the Lunar Rites, and now, every time she did so, it felt like a little victory.

Now that the moon was set on its proper course, Luna looked down from her balcony to the lights of Canterlot. The city in a small way mirrored the sky, twinkling below as the stars did above. So many ponies staying up late, enjoying the quiet of the night. She allowed herself a small and contented smile. Things were so very different, these days.

Luna stepped back into her sitting room and crossed over to her chaise lounge, which was upholstered in burgundy velvet. She lay down, tucking her long dark legs underneath her. The clockwork sky that ranged across her domed ceiling, a relic of a long-dead earth pony clockmaker, now showed the moon ascendant.

Luna’s horn flared, dimming the lights and sinking the room into shadow. The fewer distractions she had, the better. She left the clockwork ticking along, though; she found the tick-tock to be soothing.

The Night Princess began to regulate her breathing, drawing her focus ever deeper inward. Soon, nothing remained but the steady, constant rhythm of her breathing and the ever more distant sound of clockwork. And then, even that faded away as she left her body behind.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at an entirely different starscape, scattered like chips of diamond far beneath her hooves. Spreading ethereal wings, Luna launched herself deeper into the Dreamrealms, soaring over the lights below.

Unlike the true stars, these lights were clustered oddly. In her immediate vicinity, they were so dense that she had a hard time making them out individually. Further out, they became more scarce, with long stretches of darkness between the distant clusters of lights.

All of these lights, each and every one, was somepony’s dream.

The concerns of the day slipped away as Luna found herself becoming calmer and more at peace now that she was in her own element. The realm of the dreaming, a garden of minds that she tended very carefully, keeping the predators away. For the most part, the lights were a shimmering white, indicating normal dreams that would be quickly forgotten upon waking. Here and there, the lights were different: yellows and blues and even the occasional green.

She noted these last dreams with a blush, remembering when, in a long-past fit of curiosity, she had peeked in on those dreams. Some things, she had learned, were best left unseen. She ignored the shimmering green dreams and kept looking.

A dream, angry red, pulsed in the black velvet of the Dreamrealms. Luna angled towards it and soared in to inspect it closely. A nightmare, and a vivid one, if the color was any indication. Luna closed her eyes and pressed herself gently against the outer edge of the dream. She asked a simple question, one that the dreamer wouldn’t consciously be aware that she’d even asked.

”Would you like my assistance?”

Luna felt the shifting sensation of entering a dream as the mind of the dreaming pony drew her in, seeking any aid that it could find.

The dreamscape was hazy and twisted quite badly, the colors oversaturated with reds and greens. Desperate muttering was coming from somewhere ahead, amidst twisting hallways and rooms that Luna decided were likely to be where the pony in question had once gone to school.

She moved, not willing to waste any time. The fear of the dreamer drew her like a magnet, and she found him huddled in the corner of a classroom, whimpering silently as he crouched down behind a desk.

The dreamer looked like a foal, pale blue with a black mane, but that didn’t mean anything. In a dream of fear, a pony would often imagine themselves as a child. The pony was pressed against the floor, no doubt in order to avoid being noticed by the thing hovering by a blackboard covered in unintelligible scrawls.

The manifestation that was so frightening the colt was a black hooded robe. That was all, simply a black robe with a hood, and empty, though retaining its shape as if an invisible pony were standing inside of it.

Luna studied the apparition for a moment and then disregarded it. Whatever it meant was momentarily beyond her ability to puzzle out. Instead, she knelt softly by the quivering child and lay a wing across his back.

He didn’t seem to notice her at first, but that was often the way of dreams. Luna leaned towards his ear and whispered, “What is it that you fear, my little pony?”

The colt didn’t answer at first, instead staring into the robe, his gaze fixed on where the eyes of the wearer would be if it were being worn. Finally, he spoke, in a voice trembling with fear.

“It’s there,” he said, barely whispering. “If I move, it will get me.”

“And what will happen to you if it does?”

“I…” the colt blinked slowly several times. “I don’t know. Something bad.”

“Something bad?” Luna prompted.

“Yes. I think…” The colt blinked again and then looked around. “What is this?” he asked, his voice suddenly sounding much older. His image wavered as he stood, becoming taller, broader, and much, much older. The mane turned grey, and lines appeared on his muzzle. He regarded the floating robe with a scowl. “This again, I see.”

“This?” Luna asked, rising to stand next to him.

“I’ve had this dream off and on since I was a colt,” he replied, an uneasy frown on his features as he walked slowly towards the floating robe, which rotated to continue facing him. “It’s been years since the last time, though.”

“What do you believe it means?” Luna asked.

The dreamer, now a stallion, remained silent for a long moment before speaking.

“I’m going to die one day,” he said. “Sooner now than ever. And, when I do, what will be left of me?”

“I can’t say,” Luna replied carefully, “for I have never died. Do you have children?”

The stallion snorted. “Never any time. And now I’m too old.”

“And there is nothing else that you will leave behind?” Luna asked.

“I have some friends,” the stallion replied thoughtfully. “I suppose they’ll miss me. Maybe my co-workers.” He stared thoughtfully at the robe for a while. “My wife left me years ago, met somepony new.”

“So, you feel as if you have built nothing that will remain, should you be removed from this world,” Luna said.

The stallion grimaced. “That about sums it up, yes.”

“Then why not start building now?”

Another angry snort. “I’m too old. What do you think I can do that will make any difference now?”

“I know for a fact that the Canterlot Royal Orphanage could never have enough hooves to care for the children. You may not have your own foals, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have an impact on the life of somepony else’s.”

He was looking at her curiously, now, though without recognition. Such was often the way of dreams.

“It is up to you to make your life matter in a way you find to be important,” Luna said gently. “Don’t simply wait for death. Go out every day, and try to make somepony’s life a little better. Those ponies will learn from you, just as you will learn from them. And what they learn they will pass along to others. The ripples of your actions will last for as long as there are ponies.”

“I… see,” the dreamer said, looking away from her and at his hooves.

Luna stood silently, giving him time to think it over.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said after a minute or two. Then he scowled at the robe. “And I think that’s enough of you.”

He jabbed a hoof at the robe, which collapsed into mere fabric onto the floor. He smirked at it in a satisfied sort of way before turning back to Luna.

“I can never thank you enough,” he said. “That dream has been haunting me my whole life. Oh! I never introduced myself. I’m Net Yield, an accountant by trade.”

He held out his hoof. Luna smiled and touched it with her own.

“I am Luna, princess by trade and warden of the night.”

His smile fossilized on his face as whatever it was he thought he was seeing in his dream resolved itself into Luna’s form. He gasped, and the dream shook and shivered.

“Remember this upon waking,” Luna said, touching her horn to his head.

“I will,” Net Yield said, gulping, “Princess!”

The dream shattered as the dreamer woke, and Luna found herself once again gliding on the sea of stars. She allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. Net Yield was only the first of what would surely be many nightmares she would visit tonight, and not all of them would be as easy to help.

Still, it was a good way to begin. One nightmare hopefully never to return, and one pony now determined to make a positive difference with his life. With a sense of serene satisfaction, Luna flew on, examining the Dreamrealms for another pony in need of her help.

It was, she reflected, wonderful to feel needed.

At long last, and far past her bedtime, Erin staggered back to her little cottage and let herself inside. She still hadn’t found the time to buy an actual bed, but her new sofa, reading chair and end tables were crammed into her small living room across from all of the boxes she still had to unpack.

Erin removed her saddlebags, which were filled to bursting with leftover party foods, and set them on the kitchen counter. Then, stifling a yawn, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth.

It was a short while later that Erin snuggled up on her new dark green sofa, using a large and fluffy green bath towel as a blanket. She poked her hoof at a cushion to fluff it up, lay her head down and closed her eyes.

What a wonderful day this was, she thought. Moments later, she fell asleep for the first time in her new home.

Chapter 05: Housewarming

Her hooves were cracked and broken as they pounded along the dark soil of the forest floor. The air smelled damp, of rot and of things growing in shadow. Branches whipped at her coat, cutting and bruising her as she ran. Her breathing came in gasping sobs, the painful stitch in her ribs like a knife being driven in every time she drew a breath.

She was being herded, or pulled, towards something horrible, all while a voice muttered and laughed in her ears. Her heart was thudding, and a panicked sense of desperation was welling in her as she tried, and failed, to stop herself from running.

On some level, underneath the terror and pain, Erin was aware of it being the same old nightmare once again. There was a clearing ahead of her. She couldn’t see it, but the part of her that was aware she was dreaming had been anticipating it for some time, now. She broke through some bushes and stumbled into the clearing with a sense of relief welling up behind her terror, only to have both fade away in mute confusion.

Princess Luna stood alone in the clearing, tall and regal, with her dark ethereal mane streaming away from her. This was something that Erin was almost certain had never happened before.

“Hello, Erin,” Princess Luna said.

The pain faded the instant Erin stopped thinking about it. She took a few steps forward, her mind whirling in confusion as her sense of what was real and what wasn’t started reasserting itself. “Princess Luna. What...?”

“You were having a nightmare. One that you have had before, I presume?”

“Yes.” Erin glanced around the clearing, noticing for the first time how the landscape around her blurred and fuzzed at the edge of her vision, like it was only actually there when she was looking directly at it. It was… disconcerting. “Not for a while though. This is the first time in weeks.”

“My apologies.” Luna bowed her head. “I would have offered my assistance earlier, but I could never find your dreams before now.”

“Oh…” Erin glanced down at herself. She was dreaming of her previous body, the one resembling an earth pony. She frowned at the bleeding cuts up and down her legs, which vanished even as she looked. “Because I wasn’t part of the magical field?”

“Most likely,” Luna replied. She looked around the clearing with a thoughtful expression on her face. “When I spoke to you in Canterlot about your feelings regarding Prince Verdant, I was unaware of exactly how much harm Malachite had done to you.”

“I... see.” Erin hesitated before continuing. Luna’s statement had the feel of an apology to it. She took a moment to consider her answer. “Well, what I said still applies. I can’t blame Verdant for what Malachite did to me.”

Luna titled her head and perked her ears forward. “Though, perhaps, he serves as a reminder?”

“Uh, I…” Erin shuddered and she dropped her eyes to the forest floor. “Yes. He does. I’m sorry.”

Luna shook her head. “No need to apologize. It is something we will keep in mind, should you visit the castle again. We can keep him away—”

“Don’t do that!” Erin blurted without thinking. She blushed as Luna arched an eyebrow at her. There probably weren’t that many people who said things like that to the Princesses. “I mean… I don’t need to be treated like I’m broken. I’m not. I’ll deal with it.” A resolve firmed in her chest, and, out of the corner of her eyes, she could make out several indistinct figures standing on either side of her. “Even if it takes a while, I can deal with it. I have my friends with me.”

The look on Luna’s face was unreadable for a long moment as she stared at her. Then she looked at the figures: Twilight, Applejack and Pinkie to Erin’s right, Fluttershy, Rarity and Rainbow on her left. Luna looked back at her with a gentle smile. “Very well. I am glad to see that I am not needed here.” Powerful wings unfurled like twin sheets of midnight and beat downwards. As Luna rose into the air, she called out, “I shall leave you, then, to the care of your friends. Erin, sleep well!”

The dream distorted, the forest dissolving into a fractal kaleidoscope of colors, all centered around the Princess, who promptly vanished. The colors of the dream started to fade and wash away as the shapes became blurry and indistinct, like a watercolor in the rain. Erin looked to her left, and then her right. The dream-created versions of her friends still stood with her, smiling gently.

“Well. That was sure different,” Erin said. And then a giggling dream-Pinkie smacked her in the face with a coconut-cream pie.

“So, this is nice.” Raka looked around her friend and colleague's office. Various small items, mostly touristy stuff, were displayed prominently on bookshelves, sharing space with what looked like scrapbooks and family albums. Photos of grinning children and young adults beamed at her from every wall, and even from the desk itself. She quirked an eyebrow at her friend. “Very homey. Very you.”

Maggie Henson laughed and waved her hand. “Well, you know how it is. I spend so much time in the office, it might as well be my second home.” She leaned forward and said, “I wasn’t expecting you to show up the very next day after I called you. Didn’t I mention that we can’t open the gate to Harmony for another month?”

“Maggie, I have to be honest with you.” Raka cast a wary glance over her shoulder, as if someone might be listening in, before leaning in and stage-whispering, “I’ve grown to hate being on the road.”

Maggie gasped with a look of mock-horror on her face. “No! Not Raka ‘Rockstar’ Nayar, the globetrotting biologist!” She clasped her hands together under her chin. “Say it ain’t so!”

Raka giggled like she hadn’t done in a long time, at least not since she’d last shared an apartment with Maggie during grad school. Of course her oldest friend would still want to use that stupid old nickname.

“Well, I thought the sooner I came out, the sooner I could fix all the mistakes in the mission plan,” Raka replied, leaning back with a smirk on her face. “Is my team assembled, yet?”

“Most of them work right here,” Maggie replied. “So, yes. We’re interviewing a few geologists, meteorologists, and some other specialists. We’ll also need some medical staff, security and engineers.”

Raka raised an eyebrow. “Security?”

“There’s life on the planet.” Maggie shrugged. “No signs of civilization so far. No structures, no radio transmissions, nothing. But that doesn’t mean that the local wildlife can’t be dangerous. So, yes. Actual security, with actual guns.”

“You know how I feel about that.” Raka’s eyes narrowed as she folded her arms across her chest. “We shouldn’t be going armed to a new world.”

“We shouldn’t be going helpless, either,” Maggie countered. She sighed and laid her hands flat on her desk. “It’s not up for negotiation. I’m not going to have my best friend end up in the belly of some alien carnivore.”

“Fine.” Raka rolled her eyes. “Though, you have to admit, that would at least be an interesting way to go.”

They both chuckled at that, and for a while the conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence. Then Raka noticed a look come over her friend’s face and sighed, knowing what was coming next. She’d been expecting this, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Especially not from Maggie.

“I’m sorry about this, Raka, but you know I have to ask,” Maggie asked in preparation for the inevitable question. “How’s your health these days?”

Raka grinned at her through clenched teeth. At least Maggie had the decency to look apologetic about it, rather than pitying.

“I’m fine, Maggie,” she said. “Full remission, currently cancer-free.”

“Right,” Maggie said, nodding. “It’s just that—”

“For goodness’ sake, Maggie, I’ve gotten this from everyone I know.” She scowled across the desk at her friend. “Yes, I’ve lost a lot of weight. Yes, I look awful. But I’m fine. Really.”

Maggie frowned right back at her. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

Raka leaned back, eying her warily. “Oh?”

“What I was going to say is that we have an Ascent facility here. You may have heard of it?”

Maggie grinned at Raka’s suddenly-sheepish expression. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Maggie folded her arms and leaned back, looking altogether too smug. “We could use our Ascent facility to double-check and make sure you’re fine, and correct any problems before we send you out into the field.”

“Oh,” Raka repeated. “Well. How long would that take?”

Maggie grimaced. “It’s an older facility. We can’t do targeted fixes like the new ones. We’d have to put you under for a week, maybe longer.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Raka considered this for a moment before shaking her head. “No, let’s hold off until I get back. I want to make sure we have plenty of time for planning.”

Maggie leaned forward in her chair, eyebrows knitting. “Raka, we have a month. Over a month, actually. There’s plenty of time.”

Raka laughed and shook her head. “Maggie, I know you don’t go out into the field much, but you have to trust me. There’s never enough time for planning.”

“Fine, fine.” Maggie held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “How about we start with an introduction to some of your soon-to-be teammates?”

“Oh, yes!” Raka sat up eagerly, her eyes sparkling. “You’re sending a unicorn with me, is that right?”

“Just the one, though there will be a team of ponies from Canterlot as well. But Spectral Charm will be reporting directly to you.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet him!” Raka clapped her hands excitedly. “I bet he’s wonderful!”

Maggie’s face froze for a second before thawing into a careful smile. “Oh, he’s something else, all right. Let’s go and meet him, shall we?”

It was early enough in the morning that the regular hustle and bustle of Ponyville’s streets was just getting started. Twilight stifled a yawn, momentarily regretting the time she’d spent the night before perusing the thick and densely illustrated tome Fantastical Flora and Fauna before finally turning in. It had been a fascinating book, but right at that moment she’d rather have had the extra hours of sleep.

Pinkie Pie was apparently having no such trouble, seeing as she was bouncing happily along next to her while humming a song that was entirely too chipper for that time of day, at least as far as Twilight was concerned. Pinkie had stopped by the library a half-hour earlier, and only the basket full of freshly-baked warm muffins she’d been carrying for breakfast had stopped Twilight from grumpily suggesting that she come back in an hour or two. Or possibly even three.

The muffins had made a pretty good breakfast, all things considered. There were still a good half-dozen left in the basket that Pinkie was somehow managing to balance on top of her head as she hopped along.

Twilight’s admittedly bleary mind wandered its way back to the subject at hoof. “So, Fluttershy actually refused to take the money?”

That got Pinkie to stop bouncing. She landed with a thud on all four hooves and started walking beside her with a frown on her face.

“She sure did,” Pinkie said, her ears drooping. “Something about it being a gift from Sunflower and she couldn’t take money for it, now.”

“But the four of us agreed,” Twilight said, frustrated. “We’d all chip in and get Erin a feather-care set. And I know AJ and Rainbow Dash would chip in, too, if we asked them.” Then what Pinkie said sunk in. “Wait, she said it was a gift from Erin?”

“Yup.” Pinkie shook her head. “I didn’t get it, either. Dangit, I’m usually the one who’s random, not Fluttershy!”

Twilight shook her head. “Well, we can talk to her later, I guess. After we check on Erin, of course.”

Pinkie’s face returned to its normal sunny expression. “Of course!”

They walked, or in Pinkie’s case, bounced, until Erin’s house came into view, the sight of which caused Twilight to feel a small spark of satisfaction. She’d been lucky to find the place for her friend, and Erin’s obvious appreciation of her new living space had really done wonders for Twilight’s spirits.

The pair of them let themselves through the gate and then knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Erin opened the doorway, eyes widening in surprise as she saw the two of them.

“Hey, guys!” Erin said as she broke out into a wide smile.

“Hiya, Sunflower!” Pinkie said. “Can we come in? We brought presents and muffins!”

“Housewarming gifts, actually,” Twilight added with a smile. “Just some things we thought you could use.”

“Of course you can come in!” Erin stood aside to make room. “Please excuse the mess, though.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not too…” Twilight trailed off, staring at the boxes, some of them open with their contents scattered across the floor. “Wow.”

“I know.” Erin was clearly embarrassed, judging by how she ducked her head and scuffed a hoof along the floor. “I’ve been looking for something.”

“Do you need any help?” Pinkie asked as she passed the muffin basket over. “I’m a great finder!”

“Oh! No, Pinkie, that’s okay!” Erin said with a wide-eyed, frantic grin. “I actually just found what I was looking for. And I’m glad you’re here, actually, because they’re presents for you guys!”

Pinkie gasped. “We get presents, too?”

“Yes!” Erin’s eyes twinkled as she laughed. “But first, can I get you guys anything? I have all sorts of goodies left over from last night’s party. Oh! And I also found a care package my mom somehow managed to sneak into my stuff. It’s got a bunch of cookies in it.”

“Ooh, cookies!” Pinkie’s ears perked up. “What kind?”

“Well, there were chocolate chip, of course,” Erin said.

“Naturally,” Pinkie said with a sage nod.

“There are also some peanut-butter ones, some sugar cookies, and some snickerdoodles.”

“That sounds great!” Pinkie said. Then she frowned and shot Erin a sidelong glance. “What’s a snickerdoodle?”

Twilight looked at Pinkie in confusion. “Um, Pinkie?” she started to say.

Erin tilted her head at Pinkie. “You’ve never had a snickerdoodle?”

“Hmm… I don’t think so! What is it?”

Erin grinned at her. “Only the best kind of cookie ever! I’ll go get you one!” She trotted off into her kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Twilight, do you want one too?”

“Um, sure?” Twilight said uncertainly.

“Okay, one minute!” Erin said as she disappeared through the doorway.

Twilight turned to Pinkie Pie, who was grinning hugely. “Pinkie, I’m pretty sure you know what a snickerdoodle is.”

Pinkie fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Twilight said with a frown. “I’m positive. I think you’ve even made them before.”

“I have?”

“Yes. In fact, there’s even a mare in town named ‘Snickerdoodle’. She has a snickerdoodle for a cutie mark.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Twilight stomped a hoof. “How can you not… remember…”

She trailed off, looking at her friend’s face. There was that grin, of course. But now it had been joined by a mischievous glint in Pinkie’s eyes.

“Oh…” Things started to click in Twilight’s mind. “Oh!” She cast a wary glance at the entryway to the kitchen, where the sounds of dishware clinking around could be heard. She leaned towards Pinkie and whispered, “Is this a prank? Are we playing a prank on Erin?”

“I’m going to be honest, Twilight,” Pinkie Pie said with a smirk. “I have no idea what you’re doing.” The big grin erupted on her face again. “But, yes, I’m just playing a little joke.”

“Oh, goodie!” Twilight clapped her hooves together and giggled. “Can I help?”

Pinkie's eyes narrowed for for a moment, her mouth setting in an even line. Twilight stood rigidly as Pinkie studied her, presumably judging her readiness to assist her with the pranking. When Pinkie's face suddenly erupted into a full-blown smile, Twilight sagged with relief.

"You sure can, Twilight!" Pinkie replied with a grin. Her twinkling blue eyes narrowed as she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially into Twilight’s ear. “You have to make absolutely sure you relax and act casual. It’s really super-duper important that Sunflower doesn’t catch on, or else the whole joke is ruined.”

“Right!” Twilight nodded vigorously. “Oh! Here she comes!” Twilight couldn’t help a little hop of excitement at being on the giving side of the joke for once.

Pinkie’s eyes widened. She whispered fiercely, “Twilight, remember to act casual!”

“Right!” Twilight took a deep breath and let it out, trying to settle her nerves. “Right.”

Twilight quickly put on a casual smile as Erin trotted back into the living room with a plate loaded with cookies balanced on her back.

“Well, here we… go?” Erin stopped and cocked her head as she stared right at Twilight. “Everything okay, Twilight?”

“What?” Twilight felt a moment of panic at the thought that Erin might have already figured out the prank. She shot a frantic glance over at Pinkie, who widened her own eyes back at her. She looked back at Erin and put even more effort into making her smile look casual. “Why would anything be wrong?”

“Well, it’s just… Never mind.” Erin shook her head. “Not a big deal. Anyway, snickerdoodles! Here you go.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief as Erin, apparently still fooled, reached around and pulled the plate off of her back with her teeth. She sat down, transferring the plate to her upturned hooves and holding it out so that the other two ponies could select one of the golden brown cookies. Twilight nabbed one with her magic and took a small bite.

“Mmm!” Twilight was too distracted by the prank to even notice the taste of the cookie aside from a vague sense of something cinnamon. “This is really good!”

“Your mom is a pretty good baker.” Pinkie was licking her lips. Judging by Erin’s shocked expression, Twilight could only assume that Pinkie had eaten the whole thing in one bite. “Can I have another?”

“Oh, um. Sure.” Erin held out the plate again so that Pinkie could take another cookie. Then she looked at Twilight and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

As far as Twilight could tell, the look on Erin’s face was one of suspicion. With a sense of dread, and with a few strands of her mane breaking away from her normal straight style, she forced an even more casual smile towards her friend. “Yes, of course! Why wouldn’t I be, ha ha?”

Pinkie snickered next to her, and it was all Twilight could do not to start laughing too. This prank was getting really hard to maintain!

“It’s just… well, if you need the bathroom, it’s right over—”

Erin wasn’t able to finish the sentence because Pinkie fell on the floor shrieking with laughter. The dam burst in Twilight, and she started laughing, too. Mostly because of the successful prank, but also in relief that it was Pinkie who broke first. Erin just gave them a bemused look with an uncertain smile, which made Twilight laugh even harder.

“Um, guys?” Erin said as the laughter started to die down. “Everything okay?”

Twilight’s ribs were aching from laughing so hard but she still managed to say, “Yes! It was a prank! We actually knew what snickerdoodles were this whole time! We so got you!”

For some reason, this set Pinkie off into a new round of guffaws. Twilight giggled, though she wasn’t really sure what had set Pinkie off again. Erin joined in, finally getting the joke. Or, at least, that’s what Twilight thought at first.

“That,” Erin said, wiping a tear away from an eye with a fetlock, “was almost too lame to even be a prank.” Then she grinned at Twilight and added, “That look on your face… I thought you were constipated!”

"I wasn't—" Twilight started to say.

She was interrupted when Pinkie whooped with renewed laughter, rolling onto her back and kicking all four legs in the air. Erin joined in, laughing so hard that her legs went a little wobbly. Twilight was the odd one out, now, chuckling along but confused.

After a minute or two, the latest round of laughter started dying down.

“Thanks, Twilight.” Pinkie let out a happy sigh while still lying on her back. “Considering it was such a silly idea for a prank, you helped it turn out so much better than I expected.”

“Wait, I don’t understand.” Twilight looked back and forth between the other two mares, feeling totally lost. “How was it a silly idea? We got her!”

Pinkie looked up at her, snorted with laughter and then groaned, holding her ribs. “No more, Twilight. My tummy hurts from laughing too hard!”

Erin was looking at her with an entirely too amused expression for somepony who’d just had an awesome prank pulled on her.

Twilight shook her head, confused. “I don’t get it.”

Any attempt to gain further understanding of the current situation was complicated by her friends' renewed laughter.

Princess Luna, Warden of the Night, Guardian of Dreams and the Regent of the Moon, was assaulted very nearly the moment she opened the door to the Royal Sisters’ private dining hall. She had been planning on a hearty meal and a calm discussion with her sister before retiring for the day. What she got instead was a small green alicorn colt dodging between her legs to reach the hallway behind her, followed a moment later by the colt’s beleaguered nursemaid slamming into her with a startled cry.

Luna blinked as she was knocked half a step back. The mare who had run into her staggered backwards in a protracted fall that ended up with her finally landing on her rump. The nursemaid, a light golden unicorn mare named Honey Heart, shook her head before looking at what she’d run into.

When she saw that she had, in fact, run full-tilt into Princess Luna, Honey Heart’s eyes bulged as she gasped and scrambled to her hooves.

“A thousand pardons, Princess!” Honey Heart bowed with her muzzle very nearly on the floor. “The young prince is being… rambunctious this morning.” With a grimace, she added, “As usual.”

Luna rotated an ear, catching the sound of the giggling colt as he bolted recklessly down the hallway. A moment later, Prince Verdant squawked indignantly as Luna lifted him in her magic and began floating him back towards the dining hall.

“It is of no concern,” Luna said as she brought the prince back towards the doorway. “I believe this is what you were looking for?”

“No!” shouted the somewhat-less-than-regal prince. “No no no!”

It was one of only a small number of words that he knew, though new words were appearing with startling regularity. Some, apparently, he had learned from his guards, which had prompted Celestia to pronounce that certain words and phrases were not allowed to be used near the young prince.

“Thank you, your Highness,” Honey Heart said with a bow. “The young prince has been quite a—”

“Butt!” Verdant cried out, demonstrating yet another word from his ever-expanding vocabulary.

Honey Heart froze with a very cautious look descending over her features. “I was going to say ‘challenge’.”

She cleared her throat and, horn lighting up, took the little prince from Luna. Verdant’s legs began galloping in midair while his little wings flapped crazily. Once again, he demonstrated his unhappiness by unleashing the most terrible invectives in his vocabulary.

“Butt! No! Butt!”

“That is language quite unbecoming a prince,” Luna admonished.

This, apparently, was when Prince Verdant first became aware of the fact that there was another pony involved in his re-incarceration. He left off glaring at his nursemaid and instead gaped at Luna.

“Auntie Wu!” he shrieked directly into his nursemaid’s left ear.

Honey Heart flinched and folded down her ears. Luna offered her a sympathetic smile before addressing her nephew.

“Good morning. How are you today?”

“Good. Hug!” Verdant’s struggles ceased as he flung his forelimbs out.

Luna arched an eyebrow at him. “What do we say when we want something?”

Prince Verdant looked puzzled for a long moment. Then he broke into a sunny smile. “Please, hug?”

“Very good, nephew.” Luna offered him a gentle smile. She leaned in and, while he was still floating in Honey Heart’s magical grip, gave him a gentle hug and graciously endured a sloppy kiss on the cheek. The guards on either side of the doorway maintained an air of stoic indifference regarding Luna’s en-slobbering, much to their credit.

Honey Heart bowed again. “Thank you for catching him, Princess. He always gets a little squirrely during breakfast, and he is quite the escape artist.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” Luna said as she finally entered the dining hall fully and shut the door behind her. She put a serious look on her face. “Now, nephew. Are you going to finish your breakfast properly, like a big pony?”

His answer was the rarely-used “Yes!”

Verdant ran over and plumped himself down on a cushion next to the low breakfast table and remained sitting there with relative calm as his nursemaid began helping him with his breakfast. One of the palace servants, a mare in a nondescript black dress and white apron, took her breakfast order. As the servant left to prepare the meal, Luna turned to speak to Honey Heart as the mare tried to entice the young prince into eating.

“My sister is once again too busy to join us?”

Luna hadn't intended to sound critical of her sister but, judging by the way the nursemaid's face tightened in apprehension, it seemed that her statement was taken that way. When Honey Heart answered, it was in the carefully measured tone that the palace staff seemed to use so often around her.

“Yes, Highness. It seems Princess Celestia has a very full morning scheduled.”

“Hmph. What could be so important as to miss yet another mealtime with her sister and adopted son?”

Luna was certain that Honey Heart would know that she wasn’t just asking an idle question; in her duties as nursemaid, she was kept informed of Celestia’s schedule down to the minute, just in case she needed to reach her in the unlikely event of an emergency.

“Ah, well.” Honey Heart fidgeted with her hooves. “Princess Celestia mentioned that she would be joining us after meeting with the Nobles' Council.”

“I see.”

The mares lapsed into a silence, broken only by Verdant’s incessant babbling. The prince, though technically only a few months old, had the physical and emotional development of a colt at least two years in age, and all of the energy and curiosity of a roomful of kittens. Luna suppressed a smile as she looked at him, while Honey Heart did her level best to keep the young prince eating his breakfast.

“You are quite good with him,” Luna noted.

The compliment made Honey Heart beam happily. “I can only do my best, Princess.” The humility implied in her statement at odds with her confident tone and level gaze. “I raised several of my own, after all. And the young prince is very much a joy to care for.”

Luna winced as a large glob of airborne applesauce impacted with a wet splat against the side of the nursemaid’s head and began to ooze viscously down her neck.

“Very much a joy,” Honey Heart repeated with a fixed smile.

Luna chuckled as the nursemaid used a linen napkin to clean herself off. A short time later, a unicorn wheeled the breakfast cart into the room. In addition to the bowl of sweet porridge she had asked for, Luna also chose several small tarts and some fresh fruit from a silver tray. The addition of a carafe of fresh apple juice rounded out the breakfast nicely.

The servant bowed and began to back out of the room.

“Leave the cart, if you would,” Luna said. “Celestia may join us later.”

The servant bowed again. “Of course, Princess.”

Once again, the only ponies left in the room were Luna, Verdant, Honey Heart, and two servants who were waiting on any orders that might be forthcoming. Luna ate her porridge as Verdant, temporarily out of energy and with a full belly, began yawning hugely.

“I think it’s nearly time for a nap,” Honey Heart said softly.

“Nuh,” the prince replied.

Luna shook her head. “Not quite yet. Celestia will want to see him before he takes his nap.”

“Of course, Princess.”

Luna ate quietly while Verdant’s head bobbed lower and lower, only to snap back up as his eyes blinked owlishly every minute or so. Eventually, no amount of willpower was enough to keep the prince awake. He flopped over onto his cushion and curled up like a puppy.

Luna caught Honey Heart’s eye and gestured her closer. The mare stepped quietly in order to not wake the prince and sat down, eying Luna curiously.

“Honey Heart, perhaps you can answer a question for me,” Luna asked in a low voice.

“If I can, Princess, I would be happy to.”

“My sister has never raised a child before. The closest she’s come is taking on the occasional apprentice. Granted, she relies upon you and several other palace servants, but my curiosity is piqued. How well does Celestia do with Verdant?”

A panicked look washed over the mare’s face. “I wouldn’t presume—”

“No, of course you wouldn’t,” Luna replied quickly. “Have no fear, this conversation will remain between the two of us, I swear it.”

Honey Heart eyed the two servants in the room out of the corner of her eye. Luna sighed and faced the pair of them.

“Now would be a good time for both of you to get some refreshments for yourselves, don’t you think?”

The unicorns exchanged a glance before looking back at Luna and bowing in unison. When they left, they closed the door softly behind them.

“I shall speak frankly,” Luna began once they were alone. “I am concerned. My sister seems to delegate most of Verdant’s day to various palace servants. Is there cause for alarm?”

“I… I can’t say, Princess Luna, I really—”

Luna leaned forward and placed a hoof on Honey Heart’s leg. “Have no fear of reprisals. I simply need to be sure that Celestia isn’t shirking her duties towards her son.”

Honey Heart’s eyes flashed as her spine stiffened. “She would never!” she whispered fiercely as she pulled her leg away. “Celestia is extremely caring and patient with him. Considering how many other duties she has, I’m amazed how calm and serene she manages to be.”

Luna couldn’t help but chuckle over that, which seemed to confuse the nursemaid.

“I continuously find myself reminded that a thousand years have passed since my incarceration on the moon,” Luna said by way of explanation. “The Celestia you describe and the one I remember are almost completely different mares.”

“How so?” Honey Heart asked carefully before quickly adding a belated, “Princess!”

“Equestria was wilder back then.” Luna shook her head slowly. “The Celestia I remembered could never be described as ‘serene’ or ‘calm’.”

“How would you have described me, then?”

Luna froze for a moment and then turned towards the now open door of the dining hall. Celestia was standing there with an amused smile on her face.

“I would have said ‘passionate and headstrong’.” Luna grinned back at her and nodded towards an empty cushion. “Please join us, sister.”

As Celestia moved towards the cushion, she spared a happy smile for the slumbering Prince Verdant. Several bakery items, wrapped in Celestia’s golden aura, floated off of the breakfast cart and towards Celestia’s place at the table.

“So, did I hear you were concerned about how much attention I can spare Verdant?” Celestia asked as she lay down on the cushions. She took a nibble of a pastry as Luna answered.

“Yes, sister. Though I meant no offense. I know how difficult it can be for a Princess to find the time for personal matters.” Luna flexed her wings and ruffled her feathers. “The stars know I have a challenge warding the Dreamrealms all night. The population has expanded greatly in my absence.”

Celestia sighed. “Yes, well, that’s the price of peace and stability, but I’m glad to pay it.” She took another bite of her pastry, her expression thoughtful as she chewed and swallowed. “Nevertheless, you may have a point. I’ll try to delegate more of my duties, to make sure I spend more time with him.”

“Yes,” Luna said, nodding. “It's only for a short while, after all. Once he’s old enough, he can join us in ruling this land.”

Celestia snorted in a very un-Princess-like fashion. “Don’t be so quick to map out his future, Luna. We didn’t get much of a choice in our lives, but I would like for him to decide his own course.”

“Then, perhaps we can enlist Erin as a fourth princess?” Luna asked lightly, attempting to hide her resultant grin behind a lemon tart.

Celestia choked briefly on her pastry before levitating a glass of applejuice up to her muzzle and taking a quick sip. “Don’t even joke about that!” she said, vexed. “I had to spend the last hour attempting to convince that stone-headed Noble’s Council that she’s not going to have any titles or political powers.”

Luna laughed at the thought of the panicking nobles, who probably thought that their “ancient” bloodlines were under threat.

“Did they truly believe we’d make her a co-ruler of Equestria?” Luna asked, grinning.

“Either that, or they hoped we would use Ascent to make anypony of noble blood into an alicorn.” Celestia snorted again, this time in disgust. “And, I should add, only nobleponies.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Naturally.”

“Um, I beg your pardon, Princesses?”

Luna started. Verdant had been sleeping, and Honey Heart had been so quiet that she’d quite forgotten that they were there while the two sisters had talked.

It was Celestia who responded to her. “Yes, Honey Heart?”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but it would probably be for the best if I brought the young prince back to his room for the rest of his nap.”

Celestia looked longingly at the little colt for a moment. “Yes. Yes, of course. And, thank you.”

“My pleasure, Highness,” Honey Heart said as she rose and bowed.

The nursemaid’s horn glowed and the prince, cushion and all, lifted gently into the air. She managed the feat so gently that Verdant didn’t even break the rhythm of his breathing. Celestia, a wistful expression on her face, watched as the nursemaid left with the little colt floating on his cushion ahead of her. Once the door closed behind them, she turned back to Luna as her expression turned determined.

“I won’t fail him, Luna.” Celestia scowled briefly. “I’ll give him the childhood he never had before, I swear it.”

Luna got up and walked around the table, finally settling next to the elder princess. She draped a wing across Celestia’s back and nuzzled her shoulder.

“I know you will, sister,” Luna said gently. “I know you will.”

Things had finally calmed down at Erin’s house, though Twilight had sulked for a little while after finding out that the “prank” was nowhere near as funny as her attempt at acting casual.

Still, there were presents to hand around, and that brought everypony back to reality pretty quickly.

“And here are some baking spices,” Pinkie said, pushing a bag towards Erin. “And here are some recipes!” She passed the recipe book over as she shot a sly glance at Twilight, adding, “There’s even a really good snickerdoodle recipe in there.”

“Ha, ha,” Twilight said, though she smiled when she said it.

“Thanks, Pinkie.” Erin smiled as she gathered the items up and set them on an end table.

“Well, I brought over a few things, too.” Twilight pulled a book out of her saddlebag with her magic and floated it over to Erin. “This is The Complete History of Ponyville. I thought you’d like to read it!”

“Oh, Twilight! Thank you!”

“That’s not all! I also brought Beginner’s Magic Exercises. It’s a foal’s book, but I figured, since you’ve never used magic before, this would be something of some use to you.”

“Oooh!” Erin said, eying the book appreciatively. Then she looked around the room. “I should probably remember to buy a bookshelf while I’m out shopping today.”

“So, where are our presents?” Pinkie asked, her eyes sparkling.

“Pinkie!” Twilight scolded.

Erin laughed and held up her hooves. “I’ll get them for you. Hold on.”

Pinkie and Twilight waited with varying degrees of patience as Erin made her way around to the other side of the large, central pile of boxes. There were eight smaller gift-wrapped boxes stacked against the wall and, after checking the labels, Erin pulled two of them out. She stacked the two boxes on her back and walked, carefully, back to where the other two were sitting.

“Now, before you open them, I need a promise from each of you not to tell the others. I want it to be a surprise for all of you, okay?”

Twilight nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Pinkie mimed the actions as she said them.

“Well, that will do, I guess,” Erin said with a grin.

She passed over the gift-wrapped boxes, the one with birthday cakes and balloons going to Pinkie, and the one with a star motif being given to Twilight. Unicorn magic made short work of the wrapping paper, and Twilight gasped when she saw what was inside.

“Is this..?”

“Oh, my gosh!” Pinkie said, gaping at Twilight’s present. Damp bits of paper flew as Pinkie started using her teeth to pull off the rest of the wrapping paper on her own gift.

Meanwhile, Twilight was reverently opening the box, the cardboard sliding open with a soft whisper.

“Oh, my… Erin, this is amazing!”

Erin grinned hugely. “You like it?”

“I love it!” Twilight cautiously removed the tablet from the box. “Oh! It has my cutie mark on the back!”

“What?!” Pinkie mangled her own box a little bit in her haste. Inside was a glossy pink tablet computer and some accessories. Eyes wide, Pinkie slowly and reverently pulled the tablet out and flipped it over to reveal three balloons stenciled into the back. “Oh, wow…”

Twilight’s own was a purple that matched her coat, with her starburst cutie mark on the back. She stared at it for a long while before looking at Erin. “All of them have our cutie marks on them?”

Erin nodded, joy bubbling up in her as she saw how much her friends enjoyed the gifts. “I found a place that will customize tablets for you. Also, each one comes with three styluses, if you don’t want to just use voice commands.”

“Oh, wow… oh, wow!” Pinkie was turning hers over and over in her hooves, making Erin glad that she had asked for a heavy-duty screen protector to be applied. “What kind of things can it do?”

“Well, let’s see.” Erin tapped a hoof thoughtfully on her chin as she considered. “A lot of the apps won’t work until the wifi gets set up in Ponyville, but when it does you can all call each other, send pictures, messages or movies… um… Oh, Twilight, yours has a bunch of science and history books, along with some fiction. Some documentaries, too. Also a journal, if you want to use it. Pinkie, yours has a bakery database and a ton of music and movies.”

Pinkie’s eyes snapped up. “A whole ton?” she asked, hefting the thing with a hoof.

Erin laughed. “Well, not literally a ton, but you could probably play everything on it non-stop for over a month without repeating anything. I remembered that you like cartoons and comedies, so I put a bunch on there when I was loading it up.”

“Erin, this is…” Twilight looked on the verge of tears, Erin was startled to see. “This is amazing! Thank you!”

Erin smiled as her heart swelled happily. “It’s my pleasure, Twilight.”

“Sunflower, I only have one question,” Pinkie Pie said, her voice unexpectedly serious.

Erin seriously doubted that Pinkie would end up asking just one question. “Yes, Pinkie?”

“How do I turn this thing on?”

Erin laughed. “Why don’t I take you both through a quick course on how to use them?”

It was generally agreed that this was, in fact, the best course of action possible. The three friends settled down while Erin happily began teaching them the basics of how to use their new high-tech toys.

Chapter 06: Gifts from Earth, part 1

“So, I just push on it here?”

Sunflower glanced over to see where Pinkie had her hoof pointed and nodded. “That’s right. Just press gently, and it should power on.”

Pinkie pushed down the teeny-tiny button on the side of her brand new tablet. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she started to get worried. And, maybe, just a little bit worried.

“Nothing is happening! Is mine broken?”

Sunflower looked back over and chuckled. “Take your hoof away, Pinkie,” she said, her muzzle crinkling up into a smile.

“Oh! Okie-dokie!” Pinkie replied, adding, “Oooh!” a moment later when the whole screen started glowing. A picture that looked like two interlocking circles flashed by before it went black for a second or two.Then it turned into a picture of her cutie mark with black all around it and a bunch of tiny pictures with weird, teeny words on them.

It looked a lot different than Erin’s own tablet, which Pinkie had used for a little while in Canterlot. She’d expected to be able to just jump right in and use it, but nothing looked familiar. A kind of mild panic started welling up as she felt torn between her desire to just start poking at random things and her fear of breaking something by accident.

Pinkie glanced up to see Sunflower talking to Twilight. And she tried, she really did try to wait until the two of them had a break in their conversation so that she could ask, politely, what to do next, but she was just so excited and had so many questions that, after a few seconds, her mouth just started moving on its own.

“Erin, this one is different! What do I do now? How do I get an ‘email’? And here’s one that says ‘photos’! I want to see the pictures! How do I see the movies and cartoons you put on here? What kinds of things can I do? Oh! It says ‘phone’! Is this like a telephone? We have one of those at Sugarcube Corner, but it’s a big wooden box on the wall with a crank you have to crank and then an operator says ‘hello, how can I connect your call?’ and I usually hang up then because I always forget what to say, so how does that work and ohmygosh this one picture-thingie says ‘games’! Can this thing play games with me? How does it do that if it’s got no hooves?” Pinkie blinked and looked up to see that both Twilight and Sunflower were staring at her.

“You know what?” Sunflower stood up and smiled at her. “I should just help you turn on the personal assistants on these, and it will answer some of your questions for you.”

Now that made Twilight’s ears perk up. “Personal assistant?”

“Like this.” Sunflower turned towards her own tablet, which was propped upright on a box, and said, “Minerva, wake up.”

Pinkie’s jaw nearly unhinged itself when Sunflower’s tablet started glowing all on its own, and then a pleasant-sounding female voice came out of it and said, “Hello, Erin. How can I help you today?”

“Minerva, what are you?” Sunflower asked it.

There was a brief pause before the voice spoke again. “I am the personal assistant that resides on this tablet computer.”

Pinkie frowned. There was something about the voice that was just a little creepy. Like it was trying to sound like a nice person, but not quite managing it. Sunflower wasn’t done talking to it, though.

“And what do you do?”

Again, there was that moment of hesitation, as if Minerva had to think over her answer before she replied in that same pleasant, but utterly bland, tone of voice. “I take voice commands in order to operate the functions on this tablet computer.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Sunflower said with a smile. “Sleep mode, please.”

The screen stopped glowing. Pinkie stared at it warily for a while, just in case it decided to be spooky again. When she looked away from it, she noticed that Twilight was staring at it like she hadn’t eaten in days and the tablet was the world’s biggest piece of birthday cake.

“Can mine do that, too?”

“Oh, Twilight,” Pinkie said sadly, shaking her head. “Spike just barely got used to you having a second assistant. You might crush his little dragon heart if you get a third one. Especially one that can say more words than just ‘who’!”

Twilight looked startled for a second before she frowned. “I’ll still need him to get books for me and stuff like that. There’s lots of stuff these tablets can’t do.” A doubtful look crossed her face and she turned to Sunflower. “Right?”

“Right,” Sunflower replied with a definitive nod. “I use mine to start playing music or videos, or to put stuff on my calendar. There’s also a voice-to-text feature, but the on-board one is a little sketchy.”

“I have no idea what that last part means,” Pinkie said happily.

“It means that you talk to it, and it types what you say,” Sunflower said, sending another one of those precious smiles her way. “But, without a connection to the internet, it doesn’t always do a very good job.”

“That could be useful,” Twilight said, looking at her purple tablet with new appreciation. “I could keep a journal, or something. Is there any way to get the words off of there and onto paper? Or is that a silly question?”

Sunflower shook her head. “No, it’s not silly. Once I get my printer set up, you can connect to it and print off anything you want.”

Pinkie almost started giggling at the way Twilight’s eyes sparkled.

“Could I print off whole books?” she asked, sounding almost as excited as Pinkie felt. “Like, the books you gave me on the tablet?”

“I… uh, I guess?” Sunflower scuffed a hoof along the living room floor. “You’d use up a lot of toner and paper, though, and I only have so much with me right now.”

Twilight took a deep breath and opened her mouth, probably to ask a bunch of questions about how that worked. Pinkie spoke up quickly so she wouldn’t have to wait for Twilight’s oodles of kaboodles of questions to run their course.

“So, how do we make the personal assistant thingie work? And is the voice always so creepy?”

“Um. Sorry, yeah, kind of,” Sunflower said sheepishly.

A hot flush of guilt ran up Pinkie’s neck and settled into her face. “I didn’t mean to insult anypony! It’s just… Minerva sounded kind of weird!” Pinkie gasped and brought a hoof up to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Minerva!”

The tablet just sat there with its screen all dark. Pinkie was feeling pretty horrible about it until Sunflower laughed and said, “You can’t hurt their feelings, Pinkie. They don’t have any.”

“Oh…” She thought about that for a little while. “That’s kind of sad. Wait! You said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to her earlier! Why would you do that if she didn’t have feelings?”

Sunflower shrugged, which made her wings open and close partially, though she didn’t seem to notice. “It’s just a habit. One that I don’t want to get used to ignoring.”

Pinkie nodded. “That makes sense. It’s still really sad, though.” She tilted her head and frowned, first at the tablet in her hooves and then up at Sunflower. “Are you really, really sure they don’t have feelings?”

Sunflower nodded and shot her a reassuring smile that was halfway between a 19 and a 27. “I’m really, really sure, Pinkie.” Then she put on her serious face and started back up with the instructions. “Okay, each of you should have a stylus. These can be used with your mouths, or they have optional hoof straps, if you’d rather use them that way. Twilight, you can use yours with magic, instead.”

Pinkie Pie glanced over at Twilight, who already had a stylus-thingie floating in the air with her magic, and she couldn’t help but feel just the teensiest bit of jealousy. Though… maybe Ascent could give her a horn of her own, and then she could use magic! Pinkie made a mental note to ask about that later, and then promptly forgot all about it when Sunflower started explaining how to “set up” the personal assistant.

“First, I’ll get you to the right place, and then we can pick a voice,” Sunflower said.

“So, I don’t have to use the same voice you did?” Twilight asked.

“Nope!” Sunflower grinned while pointing a hoof at Twilight’s tablet. “There’s a whole list of options, male, female and other. Pick the one you like.”

“Show me where!” Pinkie held her tablet in both forehooves and thrust it towards Sunflower, who recoiled a little bit.

“Um… Why don’t you sit next to Twilight, and I’ll show you both at the same time?”

Pinkie was more than happy to scootch over next to her friend, and even gave her a quick hug as she sat down. Twilight blushed and giggled a little, which set Pinkie giggling as well. But soon enough, Sunflower had them back on task, showing them things like “icons” and “menus” and “settings”.

A little box popped up on her screen, and in that box were the words “Welcome to your new personal assistant! Please choose a persona.” Then there was a list that said things like: “Female: classy” or “Male: strong”. Pinkie stared at the list blankly, uncertain of what to do next.

That’s when Sunflower said, quite helpfully, “If you tap on a voice, you get to hear what it sounds like. Then it will ask if you want to keep that one, or go to a different one.”

“Oooh!” Twilight said as her stylus dipped towards the tablet and poked at one of the voice types.

“Hi!” a chipper and high-pitched female voice said from Twilight’s tablet. “I could be your personal assistant! Do you want to choose me?”

“Oh… Ah, no thank you,” Twilight said. Then she glanced over and said, “You might like that one, though, Pinkie. It’s ‘Female: happy’.”

“Hmm, nah. I’m already pretty much happy all the time. If my tablet were just as cheerful as I am, then we would be double-cheerful all the time. Don’t you think it might be a little bit too much?”

Twilight looked like she wanted to say something but, instead, shook her head and poked at another voice. It said roughly the same thing the first voice did, only different.

Pinkie, meanwhile, was looking down at her own tablet, lost in thought. “Hey, what does ‘doleful’ mean?”

It was Twilight who answered. “It means ‘sorrowful’, ‘mournful’ or ‘unhappy’, Pinkie. You probably don’t want that one.”

“Hmm…” Pinkie considered for a moment, then picked up the stylus in her teeth and poked the name on the list.

“Hello,” said Male: doleful in a slow and sad voice. “I suppose I could be your personal assistant, if you wanted me to be.”

“Oh, wow,” Twilight said. “That’s worse than I thought it would be. It’s kinda—”

“It’s perfect!” Pinkie said. “Yes, please! I want you to be my personal assistant!”

Twilight’s face crinkled up in the way that meant she was confused. “Pinkie, are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Male: doleful said, “Alright. I’m your personal assistant, I guess. Would you like to give me a name?”

“Ooh, I get to name him?”

Sunflower nodded. “Sure, Pinkie. Pick whatever you like, just make sure you tell it ‘yes’ before you start.”

Pinkie thought and pondered while both Twilight and Sunflower waited patiently. Inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning out of a clear blue sky, except that this time it wasn’t anything Dashie had done.

“Yes, I want to give you a name!” Pinkie cried happily.

There was a pause, and then the tablet said, “Please speak my name after the tone.”

There was a beep. Pinkie drew a deep breath and said, “Mister Hugglebunny!”

Sunflower snerked with laughter and Twilight just looked surprised.

“Please confirm,” Mister Hugglebunny said morosely, “that my name is—” and here, much to Pinkie’s surprise, her own voice said, “—Mister Hugglebunny!”

“Yes! That’s right!” Pinkie couldn’t contain her excitement and started trotting in place with her back hooves while hugging the tablet to her chest. “Eeee! I have a new friend!”

“Would you like me to learn your name?” Mister Hugglebunny asked in tones of infinite sadness.

“Oooh! Yes, please!”

After the now-expected brief delay, Mister Hugglebunny said, “Please state your name, and just your name, after the tone. Be sure to speak clearly.”

There was a tone. “Pinkie Pie!”

The delay was longer this time. Pinkie was considering asking him what was wrong when Mister Hugglebunny finally said, “Please confirm that your name is ‘Pinkie Pie’.”

“Confirmed, you funny bunny!”

Sunflower started laughing at that, and Pinkie shot her a happy grin.

“Please confirm that the spelling of your name is correct,” Mister Hugglebunny said, displaying “Pinky Pie” across his screen.

“Ooh, close but not quite, Mister Hugglebunny,” Pinkie said. “That’s really impressive, though! Don’t feel bad!”

Mister Hugglebunny must not have heard her encouragement, because he still sounded sad when he said, “Please provide the correct spelling.”

Pinkie did so, and then confirmed the spelling when the tablet flashed her name across the screen once again. Once again, Pinkie found herself dancing in place, almost overwhelmed by all of this.

“Would you like to make me voice-exclusive?” Mister Hugglebunny asked her, apparently unmoved by her excitement.

“Yes! That sounds great!” Pinkie stopped, suddenly confused. “What does that mean?”

“That means that your tablet—” Sunflower started saying before Mister Hugglebunny rudely cut her off.

“By making this tablet voice-exclusive, it will only respond to commands given with your own voice.”

“Okay, let’s do it!” Pinkie grinned.

“Confirmed,” Mister Hugglebunny said gloomily. “Please repeat the following phrase: 'Commander Cotton keeps his quills in a quiver'.”

Pinkie tried her best not to giggle when she repeated that odd phrase, and she somehow managed to say the whole thing in one go. It was slightly less amusing when she was asked to repeat another weird phrase, and even less when it asked for another.

After the fifth phrase she was asked to repeat, Pinkie glanced up, wanting to ask Erin if maybe Mister Hugglebunny was confused or just stuck. Unfortunately, Erin was helping Twilight, who was still trying to figure out what voice to use and growing increasingly more frustrated as time went by. Pinkie grinned at the sight of her friend hunched over her tablet with a look of intense concentration on her face. Twilight was many, many things, but spontaneous wasn’t one of them.

“Please repeat the phrase,” Mister Hugglebunny prompted for what Pinkie realized was the third time, sounding just a little impatient to Pinkie’s ears.

“Oh, right!” Pinkie dredged through her memory for what she was supposed to say. “‘Preposterous pickles pluck plums and persimmons'.”

She stopped as she realized what she’d just said and giggle-snorted.

“Voice analysis complete,” Mister Hugglebunny said finally, sounding like he was just short of sighing in exasperation. “Your voice is now locked in as the only voice that can control this tablet’s features, Pinkie Pie.”

This called for an appropriate response. The absolutely best one that Pinkie could think of was to dance in place and squeal at the top of her voice. So, that’s what she did.

When she finally stopped, Sunflower picked up where she left off with her instructions, since Twilight was still having a hard time picking a voice for her own tablet.

“Here is the power converter,” Sunflower said. “Ponyville’s power grid is all wrong for human electronics, so you’ll want to make sure you plug this into the outlet, and then plug the power supply for the tablet into this, okay?”

“Gotcha!” Pinkie picked up the bulky box in her teeth and jammed it into her saddlebag, where it squooshed some balloons, crinkled some streamers, and crumbled a cookie or two.

“And the battery indicator is here. If this goes to zero, it will stop working,” Sunflower added.

“Soo…. Mister Hugglebunny eats electricity?” Pinkie asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Uh… Yeah, I guess that’s close enough,” Sunflower said with a smile.

“I, uh… I don’t have to clean up after him, do I?”

Sunflower gaped at her for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter. “No! No, no. Nothing like that.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Pinkie replied, feeling relieved. She had no idea what kind of messes an electricity-eater would leave, but if Gummy was anything to judge by, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Sunflower started giving her more and more advice, which Pinkie only listened to with half an ear. She was too busy smiling down at Mister Hugglebunny, cradled like a foal in her forelegs. Something about a tutorial, something else about being careful not to crack or scratch the screen and something else about avoiding water.

“Uh-huh,” Pinkie said every time Sunflower paused in her lecture.

An idea was forming in her head. It was one that demanded immediate exploration. But then Sunflower said something that caught Pinkie’s full attention.

“What was that last part, again?”

“I said that, lots of times, people will get custom case covers for their tablets. Both to protect it and to make it more personal. I could make you guys one, once I get my 3D printer set up.”

“Three dee?” Pinkie repeated, confused.

“I can make stuff with it. I should have one somewhere in all this mess,” Sunflower said, waving a hoof at the boxes still stacked in her living room.

“What kind of things can you make with that?” Twilight asked, momentarily looking up from her tablet.

“Pretty much any small and simple object,” Sunflower said with a shrug. “I haven’t used them much, outside of school. I made a pencil case, a vase and a picture frame with one when I took a class in Fabrication in eighth grade.”

“Oooh, that sounds really cool!” Pinkie’s mind whirled. “I have an idea for a case!”

“Oh, I’d be happy to help,” Sunflower started, but Pinkie shook her head.

“Thanks, but I kind of want to do this myself.”

“Okay,” Sunflower said with a smile. “Just make sure the vents on the top are clear, or Mister Hugglebunny might overheat.”

“Ooh, good to know.” Pinkie nodded seriously as she looked at the little grills on the top of Mister H’s case. “Okay, see you later!”

Sunflower blinked in surprise. “You’re leaving?”

“Yup!” Pinkie grinned. “I have a research project in mind, and Mister Hugglebunny is going to help me!”

“A research project?” Twilight asked, her ears perking up. “Can I help?”

“Nah, I got this, Twilight. Anyway, I should go. Enjoy the presents and the muffins, Sunflower!”

“I will,” Sunflower said, giving her a big hug around her neck. “You enjoy Mister Hugglebunny, and let me know if you have any questions, okay?”

“You got it!”

Pinkie waved and left. She started walking back to Sugarcube corner, Mister Hugglebunny resting safely back in his box and the box safely in her saddlebags. With all of the excitement in her, it was really hard for her not to run. Then she realized that she didn’t have any reason not to run, so she broke into a galloping giggle-fit that had her back at Sugarcube Corner less than a minute later.

“Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie said as she flung open the door, startling the mare behind the counter. “I need a few days off of work!”

Pinkie started marching for the stairs, setting her features into an expression of determination.

“Um. Okay, dear,” Mrs. Cake replied, blinking rapidly. “You weren’t scheduled until next week, anyway.”

“Oh. Right, thanks!”

Pinkie bolted up the stairs, flung open the door of her bedroom, and then spent a few minutes securing the premises. She shuttered the windows and drew the blinds, locked the door, set a chair in front of the door, and set Gummy on top of the chair.

“I’m not to be disturbed,” she told her toothless alligator pet. “If anypony knocks, ask them to come back later.”

Gummy blinked slowly at her and then licked his left eyeball, which Pinkie knew meant “message received” in Alligator.

Then she turned off all of the lights except for the one on the small table next to her bed. Next, she plugged in the power converter, then plugged the power charger thingie into that, just like Sunflower had said to do. The battery display on Mister Hugglebunny turned from light to dark green, which Pinkie decided was probably a good thing.

Before she clambered up onto her bed to make herself comfortable, her eyes lingered on a large, plush doll sitting in the corner of her bedroom. She’d bought it at a used toy store a few days ago, thinking it would make a great present for the Cake twins. Pumpkin had taken one look at it and started screaming, so it ended up in Pinkie’s bedroom for now. She grinned, remembering her idea from earlier.

Pinkie lay down on her belly on her bed, the tablet propped up against her pillow and the charger plugged into the side of it.

“Mister Hugglebunny?”

“Yes, Pinkie Pie?” he responded bleakly.

“Do you have any comedies you can show me?”

Mister Hugglebunny considered for a moment. “Yes, Pinkie Pie.”

“I want to watch comedies,” Pinkie said.

“Which comedies would you like to see, Pinkie Pie?”

She considered for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “All of them.”

It wasn’t often that the Magical Research Department at Project Harmonics received visitors. Especially not ones who weren’t even part of Harmonics itself. So, when Maggie Henson had walked straight into their offices with a shorter female human in tow, Lyra had magically yanked her headphones off and almost fell out of her chair in her eagerness to introduce herself to the visiting scientist.

Lyra had been happy to meet Doctor Nayar. The slender, thin-boned woman with the big smile and wickedly mischievous eyes had come into the Magical Research Department’s office with so much energy and cheer that she had charmed the figurative pants off of her.

Not that Lyra was wearing pants, of course. It was much too hard for a pony to get the proper fit on Earth. Instead, she was wearing a light gold skirt and a white shirt. Her badge was clipped to the neckline of the shirt, featuring a wide-eyed Lyra grinning hugely at the camera.

After talking to Doctor Nayar for a few minutes, she also seemed to be the type of person who didn’t put up with much in the way of attitude. So, when Raka had asked to meet her co-worker Spectral Charm, Lyra couldn’t help but grin in anticipation of what it would be like when the fierce scientist met the fussy, stuffy unicorn.

She hadn’t expected that they’d actually get along, though. That was... oddly annoying, actually.

“Intriguing!” Spectral Charm was saying, his amber eyes wide behind his wire-rimmed glasses as he stared up at Raka. He shook his head. “I’ve heard of Ascent. The fact that you assisted with the design of the original pony body that visited my world… that’s an amazing feat!”

“Thank you, Spectral.” Raka smiled at him. “Oh, is it okay if I just call you ‘Spectral’?”

Lyra’s ears perked up. Spectral Charm was insistent on having his full name used, unless he knew the other person pretty well. In fact, it had taken a week or two before he allowed Lyra herself to—

“Of course you may!” he said.

“What?!” Lyra yelped. Then she blushed as Maggie, Raka and Spectral all looked over at her. “...was that noise?” she continued lamely. “Did anypony else hear that?”

“No,” Spectral Charm said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, well. It, um… It’s stopped now, actually,” Lyra managed.

Spectral rolled his eyes at her and swished his jet-black tail before turning back to Doctor Nayar. “Would you like a tour of the facility? I’d be glad to introduce you to the rest of the team, as well as bringing you up to speed on what we’ve already discussed.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Raka said. She reached out and scratched the stallion’s short black mane affectionately, right between the ears. Spectral stiffened in shock at the same time that the woman realized what she’d done and jerked her hand away. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry! That was highly inappropriate of me.”

Lyra was certain that now the stallion was going to blow his top. Spectral Charm’s idea of “personal space” started about three body-lengths away from him, especially when it came to females. Not to mention his fragile ego, which would cause him to explode at the slightest—

“Apology accepted,” Spectral Charm said, waving a hoof dismissively. Lyra gaped in disbelief as he continued. “Please, think nothing more of it, although I’d appreciate if it didn’t happen again.”

“Of course, of course,” Raka replied, blushing.

“What the heck,” Lyra muttered, earning a knowing grin from Maggie.

“Why don’t the two of you take off?” Maggie suggested. “I need to talk to Lyra for a minute.”

Raka and Spectral exchanged a glance, shrugged simultaneously, and started walking out of the Magical Research Department’s office.

“Let me tell you a little about my time at the Royal Canterlot University,” Spectral was saying as they walked away.

Lyra sighed as his voice dwindled. That encounter hadn’t given her nearly the drama that she was mildly ashamed to realize that she’d been hoping for. Maggie, in the meanwhile, had nabbed one of her coworker’s chairs from their office, dragged it over to Lyra’s desk, and sat down.

“Not what you expected, huh?” Maggie asked.

Lyra grimaced. It figured Maggie had seen right through her. “I was expecting a freakout,” she admitted.

Maggie smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Expecting, or hoping?”

Lyra shrunk back in her own seat. “Uh. Maybe a little of both?”

“I know what you mean. I was getting ready to dive for cover when she scratched him between the ears.” Maggie shook her head and chuckled. “I suppose it’s too soon to expect smooth sailing between the pair of you,” she said wryly. “Just remember, he’s your teammate, and it’s your job to look after him.”

If there was one thing Lyra knew about Maggie, it was her ability to say exactly what she needed to in order to make guilt well up.

“You’re right. I’ll do better.”

Maggie nodded, and the two of them sat there with the silence dragging out between them. After a half a minute, Lyra shifted her weight from one hoof to another, which seemed to snap Maggie out of whatever introspection she’d lost herself in.

“Lyra, I have to ask you a serious question.” Maggie folded her arms under her bosom, her face serious. “I know you aren’t interested in going through Ascent, but there’s a lot of pressure for us to figure out a way to get humans able to use magic.”

Lyra scowled at her friend and boss. “Maggie, you know my feelings on this. I don’t want to—”

Maggie held up a hand. “I know, and I’m not asking you to. There’s something else we have in mind. We found another volunteer to go through the process. The plan is to take her and change her into a pony. Then, after we confirm that she can sense magic, we’re going to see about changing her slowly back to human in stages. This is so we can see where, exactly, she loses the ability to sense magic.”

Lyra sat back in her own, specially-designed chair, blinking in surprise. “Oh. Well, I’m amazed you found anyone who would put up with that kind of thing. What does it have to do with me, though?”

Maggie grimaced. “Well, see, that’s the problem. We only have Malachite’s design to work on. We wanted something more natural, I guess you could say. We wanted to base the new pony body that we change our volunteer into on a living, breathing pony.” Maggie waited for a few seconds, staring at her intently. “Specifically, a unicorn.”

Lyra gaped at her. “Me?! You can’t be serious!”

“Look, we’re not going to do this without your permission—”

“I would think not!”

“So, is the answer a definite ‘no’?” Maggie asked with a wry smile. “You have my word that there won’t be any repercussions, if that’s the case. This project is strictly voluntary.”

Lyra was about to answer, but something made her hesitate. The thought of the humans making one of themselves look like her was more than a little weird. But, at the same time, it was intriguing.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this. What would be my part, exactly?”

“Well, we’d have to do some scans on you, of course. We’d sequence your DNA while we were at it. Lucy would end up being pretty much a clone of you by the time we’re done.”

“Clone?”

“Identical copy.”

Lyra shuddered. “That’s creepy.”

“She wouldn’t stay that way, though.” Maggie leaned forward and placed a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “Only for a few weeks, and then we’d change her a little way back to human and do some testing.”

“Okay, that’s nice and all. But what if you end up killing… Lucy, was it?”

“Lucy, yes. And that’s definitely a remote possibility.” Maggie looked as somber as she sounded, her ordinarily kind and smiling mouth tugging down at the corners. “We’ve learned a lot with Erin and her changes, but we’re breaking new ground, here. She knows the risk, as do we. She chose to go ahead regardless.”

Curiosity and unease mixed in Lyra’s stomach, making her feel more than a little nauseous. “I don’t know about this, Maggie.”

Maggie stood up, a ghost of her former smile returning. “You could meet her and ask her for herself, if you want. She’s here in the medical wing.”

“She’s sick?”

“Not sick. Injured, and pretty badly. Ascent is pretty much her only chance to live a normal life again.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she hopped out of her chair. “Maggie. Please, please tell me that you’re not holding this experiment over this poor woman’s head as the only way she’ll ever get to be healthy again. Because, if that’s the case, you can count me out right now!”

She finished that off with a hoof-stomp to show that she was serious. Maggie’s eyes widened and she held up her hands defensively.

“Lyra, no! Of course not!” Maggie shook her head. “She’s on the list to go through it anyway. She would have been back on her feet in a year, tops, without any of the risk. She is the one who wrote to us. She said that if we ever needed another person to be turned into a pony and back, she was more than happy to volunteer.”

“Really?” Lyra asked doubtfully. “It’s hard to imagine more than one person being crazy enough to go through that voluntarily.”

“There are actually tons of volunteers, these days. I get about sixty emails a day about that. The other Ascent facilities around the world get similar requests all the time, as well.”

“There are humans who want to be turned into ponies,” Lyra said flatly.

“Sure. Ponies, gryphons, dragons, and so on. But, since we’re the only ones with any actual physical pony data right now, everyone else is out of luck.”

“Okay.” Lyra shook her head. Humans were crazy! “And Lucy?”

Maggie spread her hands and shrugged. “We explained what we wanted to do. We also told her that, if she refused, we’d fix her up anyway. I didn’t want her to feel pressured. She decided that it sounded, and I’m quoting, ‘pretty cool’.”

Lyra looked away, deep in thought. After a minute or two, with Maggie waiting patiently the whole time, she finally sighed and nodded. “Okay. I’m not agreeing to it right now, but I’ll at least meet Lucy.”

The trip to the medical wing was a short one. Maggie remained silent the whole way, either lost in her own thoughts or respecting that Lyra was lost in hers. When they arrived in front of a closed door, Maggie reached out and knocked before opening it.

“I’ll wait here,” she said to Lyra. “You can go in alone. I don’t want to influence your decision.”

Lyra, suddenly nervous, frowned up at Maggie before stepping past the threshold. She’d only made it a few steps in before she saw Lucy, and it was a sight that stopped her in her tracks.

The human woman looked small and shockingly fragile in the large hospital bed, which was raised on one end so that Lucy was in a half-sitting-up position. She had dark skin and short-cropped black hair. Wrapped around her throat was some sort of plastic device, which was connected to a tube, which in turn was connected to a machine that made rhythmic whirring and clicking noises.

Lucy was awake, and her eyes widened as Lyra walked in. A ghost of a smile crossed her features.

“Hey. You’re the unicorn.”

Lucy’s voice was weak and hoarse. Lyra quickly stepped closer in order to hear her better.

“Yes, I am. I’m Lyra. It’s nice to meet you, Lucy.”

“Likewise. Forgive me for—” the machine whirred again and Lucy cut off suddenly. “—not getting up. Can’t move much.”

A dry chuckle followed that statement. Lyra shuddered, not seeing the humor in it.

“You can’t move?”

“Not below the neck,” Lucy confirmed in her rattly voice.

“What happened?” Lyra flinched at the question. She hadn’t meant to ask it, it had just slipped out.

“I’d like to say…” Lucy cut off again as the machine whirred again. “...that it was in the line of duty. But that would… be a lie.”

The frequent pauses as the machine forced her to breathe were causing Lyra’s guilt to swell, but curiosity still got the better of her. “Duty?”

“Army,” Lucy said. “Lieutenant. Got the promotion last year.”

“Oh,” Lyra said, desperately hoping that Lucy would stop talking.

“Was on leave last winter. Lost control of my truck. Hit a wall, woke up like this.”

Lyra bit her lip, her mind whirling. “Lucy, you know what it is they want to do to you?”

“Yes.”

“You know that it could go badly?” Lyra asked, stepping closer. “That you could die? Or worse?”

Lucy blinked and offered her a twisted smile. “Worse than this?”

Lyra shook her head. “This can be fixed with Ascent, without risk!”

“Always a risk, little unicorn.” Click-whirr went the machine. “Always.” Lucy chuckled before turning serious. “Risks are my job.”

Lyra’s mouth opened, then closed again. She studied the woman in the bed, who looked back at her calmly, levelly. There was no desperation there, no fear. Just determination.

“Okay,” Lyra said finally. “I guess we’ll go ahead and do it.”

“Sweetness.” Lucy sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. “Just one thing?”

“Yes?”

“If I’m going to look like you…. then I need to know… on a scale of one to ten…” Lucy grinned at her. “How sexy are you?”

Lyra gaped at the chuckling woman on the bed before she burst out into hysterical giggles.

Erin was certain that Twilight didn’t mean to be in the way. After all, it was obvious that her unicorn friend was so engrossed in her new tablet that she was probably not even aware that Erin was trying to continue unpacking around her. Twilight probably didn’t even notice as she kept crossing back and forth in front of her, bringing boxes into other rooms, and her ears barely even flickered when Erin dropped one of her boxes onto her hoof and cursed for a few seconds.

Still, after half an hour or so, Erin decided that some sort of intervention was in order.

“Say, Twilight,” she ventured cautiously, “how’s everything going over there?”

Twilight Sparkle looked up with a shocking suddenness that startled Erin into stepping quickly back. Her face contorted as she wailed, “I can’t decide on a voice!”

Erin blinked at the desperate frustration in her friend’s voice and offered up what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just pick the one you like best.”

“I like these two! I’ve made a list of pros and cons, but they balance out too evenly!” Twilight’s horn glowed and a sheet of raggedly-torn cardboard floated up with two lists on it. “The top points for ‘Male: confident’ is that it’s strong and soothing and reminds me of my brother. The top points for ‘Female: educated’ is that she sounds… well, educated, and I might be more comfortable working with a female voice, and… well, she reminds me a little bit of Princess Celestia.” Twilight blushed, following it up with a scowl. “I can’t decide!”

“Then don’t. Flip a coin or something.” Erin shrugged and then jumped a little when her wings unfolded slightly on their own.

Twilight giggled at the display. “Still not used to them, huh?”

“No,” Erin sighed, her head drooping. “I can feel them, but I can’t control them.”

Twilight tilted her head and studied Erin’s wings. “What’s it like? Suddenly having wings, I mean.”

“It’s like…” Erin considered. It was something she really didn’t have words for. She took a stab at it, anyway. “It’s like having two alien creatures attached to your body, and you can feel everything they do, but you can’t make them do anything, and sometimes they decide to do idiotic or embarrassing stuff all on their own.”

“Ugh,” Twilight said with a shudder. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

Erin grunted in agreement and went back to her unpacking. After a couple of minutes, a thought occurred to her.

“Say, Twilight?”

Twilight answered, without looking up from her list of pros and cons, “Yes?”

“You know, you can always change the voice later, if you want to.”

Twilight’s head slowly came up and cranked around until she was looking at Erin with a look of utter relief. “I can?”

Erin nodded. “Oh, sure. Why not just start with one, use it for a few days, and then try out the other for a few more days, and then decide?”

“Hmm.” Twilight tapped her chin with a hoof as she considered. “I like that idea. Only one problem, though.”

“What’s that?” Erin asked absently, distracted by the ornamental pillow that she’d just pulled out of a box. It was something her grandmother had made for her and painstakingly hand-embroidered as a graduation present.

“How do I pick which one to use first?”

Twilight’s impish grin received a facefull of ornamental pillow. As nostalgic and precious as it was to her, Erin had known her grandmother well enough to know that the old lady would have approved.

“Oh, sorry,” Erin said as Twilight giggled, “I was trying to toss that onto the couch.”

“It’s too bad you don’t have enough pillows for a proper pillow fight,” Twilight observed.

Erin snorted. “Maybe after I get everything unpacked I can go buy some. There’s just too much stuff in the way!”

“Does all this need to be in here?” Twilight asked as she levitated the ornamental pillow over to Erin’s couch. “Can’t we move some to other rooms, or something?”

“Well, the solar tiles don’t need to be in here,” Erin said, indicating several large boxes that dominated the space. Then she yelped in surprise as they levitated up in the air, surrounded by a lavender aura.

“Where do you want them?” Twilight asked, grinning as she stood up. A separate glow surrounded her tablet, placing it delicately back in its box, and then levitating the box on top of the mantel over Erin’s fireplace.

“You don’t have to do that!” Erin protested.

“I know. But since I already am..?”

“Oh, uh… I was going to move them all to the back yard and then cover them with a tarp,” Erin said.

“Through the kitchen, right?” Twilight asked, already heading in that direction.

“Yeah…” Erin trailed behind Twilight, feeling more than a little useless as her friend effortlessly carried the heavy boxes out of her house and into the backyard.

“Where would you like them?”

“Right up against the wall is good,” Erin said, pointing a hoof.

After the boxes settled into place, Twilight turned to her with a chipper grin on her face. “That takes care of that! Anything else you want moved?”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to—”

Twilight smiled cheerfully. “Don’t worry about it. You know me! I love organizing things!”

Erin chuckled over her discomfort. “Yeah, I suppose. Still, if you’re helping me unpack, I’m going to owe you a big favor later on.”

Twilight tilted her head. “What, like buying me an expensive tablet?” She rolled her eyes and smirked. “How expensive are those, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s not too bad, really.” Erin waved a hoof dismissively. “Besides, I got a lot of money for the interviews I did back on Earth. Not to mention the hazard pay that accumulated when I was exploring Equestria.” She shrugged. “I’m not exactly hurting for money, Twilight.”

Besides, it wasn’t the tablets that were expensive, it was all the media she’d purchased to place on them. But there was no way that Erin was going to tell her friend that.

“That’s good to hear. Still, I think we’re more than even.” Twilight’s face became playfully stern as she added, “So, no more of this ‘I’ll owe you’ nonsense. Friendship doesn’t work that way.”

Erin shook her head, defeated. “Fine, fine. I suppose having you move stuff around will make things go faster. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But I’m still going to buy you lunch later on as a ‘thank you’.”

Twilight chuckled. “Fine. Let’s get going, then, hmm?”

Chapter 07: Gifts from Earth, part 2

The sun was shining and the air was sweet on this perfect, sunny day. Well, it was an almost perfect day. That was only because, in addition to the humming of insects, the songs of the birds and the sighing of the breeze, there was a persistent voice coming from an annoyed white unicorn.

“I’m sorry, darling, but that simply doesn’t make any sense.”

Fluttershy could tell that Rarity was a little bit upset, since she didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that her brow was furrowing and that her mouth was turning down at the corners right then. It was a sure sign of her agitation, since her unicorn friend ordinarily tried to avoid frowning so as to prevent frown lines from appearing.

“It does, though,” Fluttershy said as she moved over to a hanging bird-feeder. After a small hoofful of seed and a smile at the resident bluejay family, she continued talking. “If I take money from you, then I’m actually getting a feather-care kit and bits from everypony. It’s not right. The money should go to Erin, since it was supposed to be a gift for her in the first place.”

“You can’t afford it, though, can you?”

Fluttershy flinched. Trust Rarity to get right to the awful heart of the matter. “I’ll be okay,” she said softly. “I have money saved up.”

Money that was meant for medicines and medical supplies. But Fluttershy could make it up. After all, grass was free. She didn’t actually need to buy food for herself when her entire front yard was a feast.

Not a particularly nice feast, but still, it wasn’t like she’d starve, and her animal friends would still get the care they needed. So, everypony would win, which was really the best way.

Of course, she’d have to cut back on the weekly spa trips with Rarity for a while. Just until she got caught up on her expenses. She dropped some chopped carrots in front of a rabbit burrow and then fidgeted with her front hooves for a while, already trying to come up with believable excuses that Rarity would accept for her missing out on their regular spa dates.

It would be difficult. Rarity was a sharp one. Not as book-smart as Twilight, but much more observant than anypony she knew. Well, anypony but Pinkie Pie on the rare occasion that she could actually focus.

Fluttershy sighed. No, lying wouldn’t do. She knew from past experience that she was a terrible liar, and the guilt would simply eat her alive. Better to simply tell Rarity that she couldn’t afford spa trips for a little while. It meant that Rarity would keep on asking her to accept money for the Feathermaster kit, but it was something she would simply have to—

Rarity’s sharply raised voice broke into her reverie. “Fluttershy!”

Fluttershy squeaked and flinched, her wings flaring defensively. After a moment of panicked hyperventilation she managed to say, “Yes?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

“Oh, yes!” Fluttershy smiled and nodded at her friend before her head sagged and her ears drooped. “Actually, no. I’m sorry.”

Rarity hmphed and shook her head, though the effect was spoiled by the ghost of a smile on her muzzle. “I was saying, dear, that it’s not fair that you are the only one to give a gift to Erin. We agreed that it would come from all of us, and now we’re all quite caught out.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy considered that for a moment before spotting the flaw. “I’m sure that there are other things that Erin needs for her house. Maybe everypony could chip in on something else, instead?”

Rarity sighed and shook her head once again. “I see that you’re planning on being stubborn, Fluttershy.” She smiled, then, a gleam of challenge in her eye. “I’m afraid that you give me no choice, then! I simply must keep trying to convince you to change your mind, even if it means I have to badger you until next spring!”

An angry hissing growl sounded down by Fluttershy’s fetlock. “Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by that, Mister Badger,” she said, directing a comforting smile at the annoyed creature.

“Oh… No, of course not.” Rarity chuckled uneasily and backed a step or two away. “I only meant that badgers are, of course, quite fierce and persistent when they wish to be. A most admirable trait!” she added when the badger kept on staring narrowly at her.

“There, see? She didn’t mean any offense.” Fluttershy set some fruit in front of the irritated badger. “Here, have some food.”

Animosities were forgotten as the badger munched happily into a fresh strawberry. Fluttershy smiled at him as she went on her way. Rarity followed, giving the dining badger a wary glance and a wide berth.

“I really am very sorry, Rarity. I just wouldn’t feel right accepting it.” Fluttershy smiled gently at her friend as they walked along. “I can’t take your money when I’ve already received an equivalent gift.”

Rarity sniffed and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth, most likely to continue trying to convince her to accept the money. Instead, she paused, then frowned, looking back over Fluttershy’s shoulder.

“It looks like somepony is coming up the road,” Rarity said. “Oh, is that Erin?”

Fluttershy looked around. “Oh. Yes, I think it is."

“Hello, Erin!” Rarity called, waving a hoof. “We’re over here!”

“Hey there!” Erin called as she crossed the little bridge near Fluttershy’s home.

Fluttershy broke into a smile, happy to see her friend. And not just because having Erin around meant that Rarity would have to stop pressuring her to take her bits. “Hello, Erin. Welcome!”

“Thanks! I’ve got some presents for you,” Erin said as she came to a stop in front of them. She was grinning widely as she nodded at her saddlebags. “Can we go inside the house?”

“Oh, of course. Though, I will have to join you in a few minutes, I’m afraid.” Fluttershy offered an apologetic smile. “I still have some animals to feed, you see.”

A frown drifted across Erin’s face before her sunny grin returned. “Oh, that’s fine. It can wait until you’re done. I really wanted to give you both your gifts at the same time.”

“How nice!” Rarity smiled. “Though, you know you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I wanted to,” Erin said, shrugging.

“Well, if you want to, you could go inside and wait while I finished, and then we could all open the gifts together?” Fluttershy suggested. “Rarity, perhaps you could make tea?”

“That’s a marvelous idea!” Rarity trotted towards Fluttershy’s cottage, calling back over her shoulder, “Erin, perhaps we could discuss the alterations to your dresses that you’ll need, now that you have wings?”

Erin began trotting after her. “That sounds like a good idea!”

Fluttershy allowed herself a brief smile as her two friends let themselves inside her home, after which she resumed feeding her animal friends. It took a bit longer than the few minutes she’d said, but not too much longer. Ten minutes later, she was on her way back inside to join the others, pleased to have the job done and all of her furry friends eating happily.

Her friends were sitting on either side of Fluttershy’s coffee table, with Rarity on the couch and Erin in the overstuffed armchair. The smell of freshly brewed chamomile wafted through the house, much to Fluttershy’s intense satisfaction. Rarity knew her well and had brewed her favorite tea for her.

The two greeted Fluttershy as she went in and sat down before helping herself to one of her slightly chipped teacups. Mister Bear tried to be careful, but he always ended up chipping her tea set with his big claws whenever they had a tea party. As she put the sugar in her cup, she noticed that Erin was holding her teacup in the slightly awkward way that she was so used to seeing from her once-human friend, the bottom balanced on one upturned hoof while the other hoof braced it to keep it from falling.

“I was just discussing the gift we gave to Erin,” Rarity said with just a hint of smugness. “She was unaware of it being a gift from all of us.”

Fluttershy froze with the teacup halfway up to her lips, a twinge of irritation ruffling the feathers of her wings.

“I… I see,” she said carefully. “Well, um…”

“Of course, for some reason, Fluttershy is refusing to take our money, even though we all agreed,” Rarity continued on relentlessly. “Something about getting a gift in return? I was wondering if you could clear that up for us, dear.”

Fluttershy flushed and stared down into her teacup. Rarity didn’t have many faults, she reflected, but if Fluttershy were to complain about one, she might mention that she could be just a little pushy. Sometimes. Okay, maybe more than sometimes.

“But that wouldn’t be right,” Fluttershy mumbled towards her steaming tea. “I just couldn’t.”

Erin shook her head. “Twilight reminded me earlier today that friends don’t keep score. Still, it’s really up to you if you want to take the money or not.”

Fluttershy shot Erin a grateful smile while Rarity let out an unlady-like grunt of frustration. Still, the idea of keeping score did bother her. She took a sip of her tea as she considered the idea.

“Well, you’re right about keeping score,” Fluttershy said eventually. “Though, that may not apply to Applejack and Rainbow Dash when they get competitive.”

Erin chuckled at that, and Rarity displayed a wry smile.

“Well, if it will make everypony happy, I suppose I could just take the money.” There was a surge of relief when she said that, realizing that the next few weeks would be much easier now. Of course, there was also a small swell of guilt. Fluttershy decided that she would take the time to do something nice for Erin to balance the scales a little bit. Perhaps she could knit her a sweater or something. She was on good terms with all of the local sheep, after all. She could buy quality wool in bulk.

While Fluttershy sipped at her tea, Erin went over to the peg she’d hung her saddlebags off of and removed two gift-wrapped boxes. After checking the labels, Erin passed one box to Fluttershy and passed the other one to Rarity.

“Thank you, dear,” Rarity said as she took her present in her magical aura. “Oh, what lovely paper!”

“It’s very nice,” Fluttershy agreed.

It was like the slowest race in Equestria as both Rarity and Fluttershy slowly and carefully peeled the wrapping paper off of the gifts. Fluttershy because she didn’t like just tearing into things, and Rarity because she was carefully untaping each corner in order to fold the paper up neatly. It was a habit that Fluttershy had noted in her unicorn friend that she thought was just the slightest bit odd. After all, it wasn’t as if she ever used the wrapping paper again. She just wanted it to be neatly folded when it was thrown away.

After some time had passed this way, she noticed that Erin was tapping a forehoof impatiently against the arm of the comfy chair. She met Fluttershy’s eyes and stopped with a cleared throat and a blush.

“Sorry,” Erin said sheepishly. “I’m just eager to see what you two think of the presents.” Then she straightened up in her chair. “Oh! I forgot, can I ask that you don’t talk about this to Rainbow Dash and Applejack? I still have to give them their presents. I was going to head out to the farm after this.”

“I do believe Applejack is in town today, selling off the last of her family’s winter store of apples,” Rarity said as she peeled the last bit of paper off of her box. Fluttershy glanced over and saw her friend’s eyes widen at what she saw. “Oh, my goodness,” Rarity whispered, bringing a hoof up to her mouth.

Fluttershy looked back down at her own box, still covered by too much paper to make out what it was. Judging by Rarity’s excitement, though, it was obviously something nice. She reached out a trembling hoof and removed the last bit of wrapping paper obstructing the front.

“Oh, my…” Fluttershy said faintly as the picture on the lid of the box showed, quite clearly, a tablet computer. Her heart fluttered between wonder and guilt. She’d have to make Erin at least three sweaters, now. Maybe more. She wondered vaguely how much it would cost to buy that much wool.

“Do you like them?” Erin asked eagerly, leaning forward with a huge grin across her features. “Open them, the surprise isn’t over yet!”

Rarity got her box open first, of course. A unicorn’s magic made short work of simple tasks like this. Still, Fluttershy wasn’t far behind, getting her own box open just as Rarity gasped once again.

The tablet was a soft yellow in color that very nearly matched her own coat. She reached inside and pulled it out.

Erin was so excited that her feathers were ruffling as she bounced in her chair. “Turn them around!”

Fluttershy did so and drew in a surprised breath. Her cutie mark of three butterflies was painted across the back. She glanced over to see that Rarity’s own white tablet had three blue diamonds on the back, as well.

“Erin, this is simply amazing!” Rarity said. “I never expected this! Oh! Thank you so much!” Rarity hopped down from the couch and crossed over to give Erin a big hug, the box and tablet floating along behind her.

Erin hugged her back. “Aw, you’re welcome.”

When Erin, still hugging Rarity, looked over at her, Fluttershy averted her eyes.

“Fluttershy?” Erin released Rarity, getting out of her chair to come over. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no… No…” Fluttershy swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Oh. Yes. I’m sorry. It’s too much. I love it, but… it’s too much, Erin. I don’t know if I can accept this. Aren’t these expensive?”

“Well, a little bit, yeah,” Erin shrugged and smiled. “But it’s not like I don’t have money. It’s fine.”

“But… I mean, I know you said not to keep score, but… The feather kit, and now this?” Fluttershy smiled weakly, blinking against the tears welling up in her eyes. “How can I possibly pay you back?”

Erin blinked at her a few times. Rarity, meanwhile, had taken a few steps back and was looking back and forth between her and Erin with concern in her eyes.

Eventually, Erin started speaking, her earlier eagerness gone and her tone calm and serious. “Fluttershy,” she said, “do you really want to talk about scores? Because we can do that, if you want.”

“N-no, that’s—”

But Erin hadn’t finished. “Nevermind the fact that I was a stranger in an alien world, okay? And that you, and the others, became the best friends I ever had. And forget that you stayed with me even after you found out I wasn’t who or what I said I was…” Erin trailed off briefly, her throat working as unshed tears glistened in her eyes as well. “You six, you saved my whole planet, Fluttershy. I could give you everything I own for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t come close to touching that debt.”

Erin stepped closer and put a hoof over Fluttershy’s, which was on top of the yellow tablet in front of her. She offered up a trembling smile, which Fluttershy faced only with extreme difficulty. “Please, will you accept this gift?”

Fluttershy felt her mouth open and close wordlessly a few times. Finally, mutely, she nodded. Erin’s happy smile returned as she gathered Fluttershy up in a hug.

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” Erin said as she hugged her.

Five sweaters, Fluttershy thought while Erin embraced her. At least five sweaters. Five sweaters and a quilt.

Erin eventually released Fluttershy, cleared her throat and rubbed a fetlock across her damp eyes before heading back to her seat. Fluttershy looked over at Rarity, who had a handkerchief out and was dabbing at her own eyes. She shot her friend a look, silently pleading for a distraction so she could have some time to get her emotions under control. Rarity smiled and nodded.

“So, tell me,” Rarity said, “how does one go about using these lovely devices?”

Erin chuckled. “I really should have gotten you all at once. I could have shown you all together.”

“Oh, yes.” Rarity nodded. “You mentioned that Applejack and Rainbow Dash still need theirs. Does that mean that Twilight and Pinkie have gotten the same?”

“That’s right,” Erin said, nodding. “They came over this morning. I got them started, and Pinkie ran off to do ‘research’. Which, honestly, I’m a little nervous about.”

Fluttershy managed a smile while Rarity and Erin both chuckled at that.

“Then Twilight helped me move some boxes of stuff around,” Erin continued. “I still have a lot of unpacking to do, but at least everything is in the right rooms now. She said she’d help Spike figure out how to use his tablet, and that I should give out the rest of them.”

“Oh, dear Spikey-wikey got one too?” Rarity’s ears perked up. “How nice! He’s such a sweet little thing, and I know he feels left out quite often.”

Erin laughed and nodded. “He sure seemed excited to get it! I put some action movies and comic books on it for him, since I know he likes that kind of thing.”

“Is that mostly what this is for?” Rarity asked, holding up her tablet. “Books and movies?”

“And music,” Erin said. “And you can draw with them and take pictures and videos with them. Like, yours I loaded up with all sorts of fashion magazines, and Fluttershy’s has some animal documentaries and pictures of cute animals.”

Fluttershy, who had been slowly sinking down in her seat for the last few seconds, perfectly content to let the other two talk around her, suddenly sat bolt upright.

“Cute animals?” she repeated, ears up and eyes sparkling. “Could you show me?”

“Of course!”

As Erin started teaching the two of them how to use their tablets, Fluttershy’s guilt slowly began to recede to the back of her mind. Not forgotten, but momentarily overwhelmed by pictures of kittens and other cuddly animals in adorable poses, oftentimes with funny captions on them that made her laugh.

“I think I could get used to this,” Fluttershy said, smiling.

Applejack was right where Erin had expected to find her. She had her display wagon set up on the east side of the open-air market, next to all the other wagons and stalls with produce for sale.

The apples in the wagon weren’t her best by a long shot, having been sitting in Sweet Apple Acres’ apple cellar all winter. Still, though they were a little shriveled, there were plenty of ponies buying, especially at the huge discount that Applejack was currently selling them for.

Erin faltered as she trotted up, her happy grin fading into a grimace of self-recrimination. She should have figured that Applejack would be too busy to just drop everything just because Erin had a present for her.

AJ hadn’t seen her yet, instead paying attention to a customer who was asking some question or other. Erin sighed, turned, and trotted away. She still needed to give Rainbow Dash her present, after all.

A quick trot through Ponyville later brought her to Rainbow’s house, a fairy-tale construction of clouds and rainbows anchored on Ponyville’s south side. Dash occasionally wanted different scenery, which meant she would drag the house somewhere new. It could occasionally be a nuisance to find her, especially when she forgot to tell her friends she’d moved her house.

Erin came to a halt on the dirt road almost directly under Rainbow Dash’s house, shouting “Hey, Rainbow!”

A long moment passed before a semi-groggy voice rasped “Yeah?”

“You home?”

There was another long pause.

“No, I’m out. This is just my answering service.” A scowling and disheveled rainbow-maned head poked over the side of the house, the scowl dropping away into a grin when she saw who was calling up to her. “Hey, Erin!”

“Hi, Rainbow! Can you come down?”

“Why?”

Erin grinned and waved the giftwrapped box over her head. “I’ve got a present for you!”

“What, really?” Rainbow’s ears perked up and her grin got even bigger. “Yeah, you got it!”

Rainbow kicked off of her cloud house, and Erin’s heart caught in her throat as her friend plummeted like a stone, only to flare her wings at the last second in order to come in for a soft touchdown.

Erin shook her head in admiration. “That was pretty cool.”

“That was cool?” Rainbow snorted. “Girl, you ain’t seen cool yet.”

Erin chuckled, then started digging through her saddlebags. “Sure I have. I saw your sonic rainboom, remember?”

“True, true,” Rainbow said as she buffed a hoof on her chest.

Erin chuckled as she pulled out the box with Rainbow Dash’s name on it and passed it over to the pegasus, who was grinning and hopping back and forth between her front hooves.

“Neat! Hey, want to come up for a bit while I open it?”

“Uh…” Erin glanced up at the cloud-house above her. “Yeah, I still can’t fly, Rainbow.”

“Pfft!” Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively. “Like that’s a problem. Hold this for a sec,” she said, passing the wrapped box back to Erin. “Wait right here.”

Rainbow jumped and flapped her wings at the same moment, launching her almost straight up. After she passed her house, she curved, leveled off, and streaked off across the sky.

Erin, waving a hoof in front of her face and coughing at the dust Rainbow had kicked up in her face, momentarily lost track of her. When she spotted her again, Rainbow was streaking back, pushing a pony-sized cloud ahead of her.

It was strange, Erin reflected as she put the giftwrapped box back in her saddlebags, how the cloud didn’t dissipate as it got closer to the ground. In fact, it looked oddly solid, cradled as it was between Dash’s forelegs. When Rainbow landed, causing still more dust to billow up into Erin’s face, she released the cloud and pushed it towards her.

“Hop on,” Dash said with a grin.

“Uh…”

“Trust me. You may not be able to fly, but you should at least be able to do this much.”

Erin looked doubtfully at her friend’s smiling face before shrugging and poking tentatively at the cloud with her left forehoof. It went straight through, much as Erin had suspected it would.

“You have to to think of the cloud as solid,” Rainbow said. “Watch. It’s solid.” She poked at the cloud herself. Instead of sinking through the cloud, her light blue hoof pushed it gently in Erin’s direction.

“Um, okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

This cloud is solid. This cloud is solid. Erin thought on a repeating loop before reaching out and poking the bundle of mists once again.

She gasped as her hoof met resistance. It was like poking a balloon filled with jelly, the cloud initially giving way before springing back and scooting a short way back towards Rainbow, who was busy grinning back at her.

“You got it!” Dash said. “Now, hop on up!”

Erin squealed with excitement and, giggling, attempted to climb up onto the squishy, shifting cloud. “Hahah, this is aweso-whoop!” Erin tumbled sideways off of the cloud with a shriek. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back and staring at the sky while laughing hysterically.

Rainbow snorted. “Nice one, Erin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Erin said, chuckling as she got back onto her hooves. “Let’s try that again, huh?”

Her second attempt was more successful. She climbed up with one leg at a time, moving slowly and managing to keep her balance. She stood up on top of the cloud, mist rising up to tickle her fetlocks as her legs trembled with the effort of staying upright.

“You doing okay?” Rainbow asked.

Erin was still giggling as she answered. “Yeah, I think I got—whoah!” She almost lost her balance, overcompensated trying to recover, and ended up flopping over on her side. It was like landing in a foggy beanbag, the wet mist dampening her hair and coat.

“Eh, good enough,” Rainbow said. “Don’t move, okay?”

“Why, what—” was all Erin managed before Rainbow scooped up the cloud and shot up towards her house. Once again, Erin shrieked and giggled, her wings half-opening as the wind hit her feathers. The trip was over in just a second or two, the cloud level with the bottom floor of Dash’s house.

“Top floor, everypony off,” Rainbow said.

“Uh…” Erin stared at the “landing” out in front of Rainbow Dash’s house. Unlike the rest of the clouds she could see, these clouds were darker and perfectly flat on top. “You’ll catch me if I fall through, right?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to fall through.” A few seconds passed. “Come on, already. Or do you want me to just shove you off of the cloud?”

“No!” Erin yelped. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and reached out to touch the landing, all while chanting this is solid, this is solid in her head.

Much to Erin’s surprise, the landing felt firm but springy, kind of like a gym mat. She poked it with her hoof a few times before jumping off of the cloud. She then spent a few seconds walking in a small, tight circle and marvelling at the feeling of it.

“Cloudstone,” Rainbow Dash said as she landed next to Erin. She stomped a hoof on it, causing an oddly hollow thunking sound. “Specially treated cloud. Kind of expensive, but it stops stuff from falling through.”

“Oh, neat!” Erin jumped up and down a couple of times. “How’s it made?”

Rainbow snorted. “Heck if I know.”

“Oh.” Erin’s disappointment was short-lived as she happily trotted in place on the cloudstone. “This is so cool!”

Rainbow snorted again and shook her head. “You find the weirdest things cool, Erin. Anyway, come on in!”

“You know, I never expected to be able to come up here,” Erin said as she followed Rainbow into her home. The front door opened into a pony-length hallway, which in turn opened up into a larger room.

“I’ve had some friends over, but not very often,” Rainbow Dash said with a shrug. “Most of my closest friends aren’t pegasi, after all. Anyway, can I get you something to drink?”

“Uh, sure. Water?”

“We’re in a cloud,” Rainbow said with a smirk. “I can do water. Be right back. Uh, and don’t snoop through my stuff, okay?”

Erin nodded as Rainbow trotted off towards what was, presumably, the kitchen. She took advantage of her friend’s absence to gawk at her house. Erin never had any real ideas about what Rainbow’s house would look like on the inside, but she found herself not being too surprised by anything she saw.

In the short hallway by the front door was a row of wooden pegs, somehow bolted into the cloud wall itself. Rainbow’s slightly-tattered saddlebags were hung on a peg, right next to three pairs of flight goggles, one clear, one tinted yellow, and the last tinted a dark grey. The small room Erin was currently in had one doorway straight ahead, and another to her left, which Rainbow had gone through a moment earlier.

Erin wandered further into the first room, looking around curiously. It was no surprise at all that there was a large Wonderbolts poster on one wall, directly opposite a low couch. What was a surprise was the low bookshelf with a few well-read books in it. One book, a Daring Do novel, was on an end table next to the couch. A half-empty glass of water was set on top of it, which made Erin’s eye twitch a little bit. She always tried to keep her own books in good condition.

In front of the couch was a low, dark oak coffee table. The beautiful wood was somewhat marred by rings, some of which still had their half-empty glasses still standing in them. A huge pile of magazines was stacked on top of the table, looking like it was in imminent danger of collapsing at any moment. Under the table, more magazines were stacked. They had names like Weather Reports, Wonderbolts Quarterly and The Inside Loop, the last of which seemed to be about stunt flying.

On the wall behind the couch was a set of shelves holding a collection of trophies, including a circlet with a pair of wings on either side and a lightning bolt on the front. Most of the trophies were gold, though there were a couple of silvers or bronze, placed unobtrusively behind the golden ones. On either side of the shelves were pennants and flags, and one last poster of the Wonderbolts.

Erin shook her head, wondering how all of that stuff was attached. “Cloudstone” or no, it seemed weird to be able to build stuff into clouds.

“Hey, I see you’ve found the trophy case,” Rainbow Dash said as she came into the living room. There was a glass of water balanced on her outstretched wing.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind.” Erin plopped down on her hindquarters on the floor and took the glass in both of her front hooves. She took a sip; the water was shockingly cold. “That’s a lot of trophies.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a few,” Dash replied with exaggerated modesty. Then she grinned. “So, what’s this about a present?”

Erin grinned back and set the water down on the floor. She took the box out with her teeth and passed it over to an eager Rainbow Dash, who tore into the paper with gusto. When she saw what was printed on the box, her magenta eyes widened in shock.

“No way!” The box lid was ripped off, revealing a light blue tablet inside. Rainbow pulled it out and held it up to her face. “This is awesome!”

“Turn it around,” Erin suggested.

Rainbow did so, letting out a squeal when she saw her rainbow-bolt cutie mark painted on the back. “Even better! This is so cool!” Her grin started fading after a few seconds as she stared at the tablet. “Uh. So, what does it do?”

“I put some movies on it, and some music I thought you might like. There are some adventure books I liked, and a few comics, too. Also, I put some races and stuff on it, and some stunt flying.”

“Oh, that’s cool. So, uh… How do I use it?”

Erin smiled. “How about I show you?”

AJ sighed, pushed her hat back on her head and flipped the sign on her cart to “Closed”. It had been a busy day, but all of her stock was finally sold. She had even sold off the last few apples, the smallest and most wrinkled of what she’d pulled out of the apple cellar. An old mare had bought them with the explanation that she planned on making applesauce.

The sun was inching its way towards the horizon by now, the shadows in the marketplace getting longer as the day wore on. She was about to hitch herself up to her cart and head on home when she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Looking around, she saw Erin trotting towards her, green saddlebags around her midsection and a happy smile on her face.

“Well, howdy, Erin!” Applejack offered a smile as her friend trotted up. “What can I do for ya?”

“I’ve got a present for you,” Erin replied, nodding towards her bags. “I’m glad I caught you before you left for home!”

“Oh, that’s mighty nice of ya, sugarcube, but ya didn’t have to get me a present.”

“It wouldn’t be a present if I had to give it to you, AJ,” Erin pointed out. “Did you want to open it now? We should probably go somewhere indoors to open it.”

“Well, I was just about to head back…” Applejack trailed off at the look on Erin’s face. “Well, if’n you’re gonna turn the puppy-dog eyes on me, I reckon’ we can go somewhere really quick.”

“Sugarcube Corner?” Erin suggested. “I’m a little hungry.”

AJ’s stomach took that moment to rumble. She chuckled and said, “Sure, that sounds good. I could do with a snack myself.”

Sugarcube Corner was mostly empty by the time the two of them arrived just minutes later. A smiling Mrs. Cake was behind the counter, fetching a big slice of key lime pie for Erin and an even bigger slice of warm apple pie with ice cream for Applejack. As she bit into her first forkful, AJ reflected that, while Mrs. Cake’s apple pie couldn’t touch Granny Smith’s, she was still a top-shelf baker.

Erin, fumbling with her fork in the way she usually did, regaled Applejack with details of her day so far. It turned out that everypony else got their presents already, even little Spike. When Erin started talking about being in Rainbow’s house, AJ really started paying attention. She’d never been able to get up there, of course.

“So, what’s it like?” Applejack asked.

“Rainbow’s house?”

Applejack nodded, shoveling another forkful of pie into her mouth.

Erin shrugged. “She didn’t give me a tour, so I only really saw one room. It was just a couch with some trophies, pennants and posters. And lots of magazines.”

“Hmph.” Applejack stabbed at her pie again. Not that she was dying with curiosity or anything, but she’d visited all of her other friends in their homes. She really wanted to know what it was like in there.

“You should get Twilight to cast that cloud-walking spell on you again,” Erin said after swallowing another mouthful of key lime pie. “You could go up and see for yourself.”

Applejack blinked. “I reckon’ I never considered that. I don’t wanna be an imposition on Twi, though.”

“I don’t think she’d mind,” Erin said with a shrug. “Want me to ask her for you?”

“I think I can manage asking by myself,” AJ replied with a stiff smile while smothering a small twinge of irritation. Erin was just trying to be nice by asking, after all. She forked the last bit of pie into her mouth.

“Okay.” Erin shrugged before finishing off her last bite of dessert as well. After a quick slug of milk, she grinned and held up a hoof. “It’s present time!”

“Sounds good,” Applejack replied with a smile, shoving aside both her empty plate and her idle thoughts of building a scaffold to get up to Rainbow Dash’s house.

Erin was already ruffling through her saddlebags, which were on the ground next to her chair. She came up a second later with a wrapped package, which she passed over with a huge smile.

“Thank you kindly,” Applejack said, holding the box uncertainly for a moment. With a shrug, she peeled the paper off, aware of Erin getting more and more excited as she got closer to revealing the gift inside.

Applejack crumpled up the last of the paper and put it on the table, staring blankly at the picture on the box in front of her. It took her a second to recognize it as a picture of a tablet computer, like the one Erin had shown her earlier. Slowly, it started sinking in that Erin had given her one of her very own.

“Oh. Huh. Well, would you look at that?”

Erin’s smile was fading fast, AJ noticed with an internal flinch.

“You don’t like it?” she asked.

Applejack shook her head quickly. Granny would likely beat her flank redder than Big Mac’s if she thought AJ was less than grateful for a gift from a friend. “It ain’t that! It’s just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do with it, honestly.”

Erin’s grin returned. “That’s easy! I’ve loaded it up with all sorts of stuff on farming and gardening techniques, both books and documentaries. Also, I’ve got some music and movies on there that I thought you might like.”

“That’s nice and all,” AJ replied, her hat tilting back as she scratched at the side of her head with a hoof while staring at the tablet. “But I don’t reckon’ I know if Earth farmin’ techniques will work on Equestria, and I ain’t gonna have a whole lot of time for watchin’ movies, what with getting the farm goin’ after winter.”

It was a reasonable, honest explanation. And, for some reason, it didn’t seem to be working all that well.

“Oh,” Erin said, her head sinking and her ears drooping.

Applejack cursed herself, feeling like she’d accidentally kicked a puppy. “What I mean is, I don’t really know how to use it, so I don’t know what I can use it for.” She pushed a big, hopeful smile onto her face. “You see what I mean?”

Erin sat up straighter and a smile ghosted across her muzzle. “I could teach you, if you wanted?” she offered.

Applejack’s smile softened into a more natural one. “You know, sugarcube, I think I’d like that.”

Erin perked up still further, her grin returning full force. “And, for what you can do with it, it plays music and movies and takes pictures. Oh, and I can show you something kind of neat, if you want?”

Applejack nodded and passed the tablet over into Erin’s waiting hooves. Her brow furrowed as she watched Erin pick up some black stick-like object with a strap on it out of the box. Her friend wrapped the strap around her hoof, and then start tapping on the tablet for a few seconds.

She didn’t even have time to start feeling impatient before Erin held up the tablet in front of her, with the apples on the back pointed right at AJ’s face.

“Say something, Applejack,” Erin said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Applejack shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I ain’t sure what you want me to say.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Erin said, tapping something on the screen in front of her. “I’m just showing you this. Here,” she said, passing the tablet back over.

AJ took it, and then the stylus with its strap when Erin passed that over as well. Erin told her to use the stick to tap the screen, so she did, giving a little jump when her own face showed up on the tablet.

“Say something, Applejack,” Erin’s disembodied voice said from the tablet.

Applejack stared in shock at her own frowning face. “I ain’t sure what you want me to say,” her voice said, sounding too high-pitched and nasally to her ears.

Erin’s voice spoke up one more time. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

And then the screen went dark. AJ stared at the tablet with a lot more respect. “This makes movies? Like, if I wanted to record ponies walkin’ around and talkin’ and such, I could do that?”

“Yup!”

“Land’s sake,” Applejack said, already thinking ahead to the next Apple Family Reunion. If she could get a movie made of the event, it would be the first time in the Apple family’s history! Too bad it had gotten her voice wrong, but maybe Erin could help fix that.

“Not only that, but once you guys get internet, you can share videos and pictures and stuff,” Erin said. “Say, with family members?”

Applejack looked across the table at her friend, whose grin had turned sly. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Well, I reckon this is a mighty fine gift, Erin.” Applejack put the box down on the table and walked over to give Erin a great big hug, which was enthusiastically returned.

They were still hugging when loud, though muffled, laughter filtered down from the top of Sugarcube Corner. The two of them broke apart and shared a confused look.

“What the hay was that?” Applejack asked.

“I think it’s Pinkie Pie,” Erin said cautiously.

“She’s been at it all day,” Mrs. Cake said, with just a hint of exasperation as she came around to clear away the empty plates from the table.

Erin glanced upwards as more laughter pealed out from upstairs. “I think I figured out what Pinkie’s ‘research project’ is,” she said.

Erin arrived home with a sigh, dropping her saddlebags next to her door as she walked inside. It had been a fun, though emotionally draining day, and she was looking forward to nothing more than a light snack and getting some sleep.

Which reminded her that she still hadn’t bought a bed.

“Well, I guess it’s the couch again,” she muttered, yawning as she walked into her much-cleaner living room. There was so much more space with most of the boxes out and in the other rooms. So much so that it almost felt like an entirely different place.

One last gift-wrapped box remained, propped next to Erin’s fireplace where she’d left it earlier that day. Emotions tugged at her as she looked at it. One friend still hadn’t received her present. And, given how that particular friend had never quite forgiven her for her spying mission to Ponyville, Erin wasn’t sure if she ever would.

She frowned as she ran a hoof over the smooth wrapping paper, envisioning the bright yellow tablet with an open ledger painted onto its back. Then she sighed, turned, and went into the kitchen.

Tomorrow was early enough to worry about that, she decided.

Chapter 08: Changing Times

There was, Spike reflected, a really strange sound that the library made when it was really early in the morning. Or, rather, a really strange lack thereof. Like a sound-waiting-to-happen, drinking in the small noises of the night and transforming them into an expectant stillness. The library was filled with a kind of creepy hush, as if it were holding its breath while waiting to wake up.

Spike, carrying his pillow slung over one shoulder, took great pains to make sure he wasn’t the one to disturb the quiet of the night. He even went so far as to tiptoe down the stairs in order to not wake Twilight. When he reached the first floor, he stopped and listened for Twilight’s soft snores, which she vehemently denied even existed, before he made his way towards the doorway to the basement.

The first floor was lit only by the moonlight flooding in through the windows, casting everything in shifting blacks and silvery greys. Spike wasn’t worried, though. Dragons had excellent night vision, which made the room perfectly clear, though also black and white. Not to mention the fact that Spike was a dragon with a mission, one which his caretaker/boss/big sister Twilight had told him to put on hold for the night so he could get some sleep. She even trotted out that same old “baby dragon” excuse she always used to stop him from having fun. But how could he sleep at a time like this?

There wasn’t much risk of waking Twilight up, now that he was on the first floor. Still, no point in risking everything by moving less than carefully.

“The daring Rex Rover, diamond dog private eye, is on the case,” he whispered to himself as he moved slowly to the door that led down to the basement. “Can Rex transport his cargo safely through the shadowy underworld? Can he make it past the forces of darkness that seek to stop him? When all the world is against him, can Rex survive?”

“Hoo?”

Spike jumped and smothered a yelp before shooting Owlowiscious a dirty look. “Rex Rover, diamond dog private eye,” he whispered fiercely.

The owl just stared at him.

“He’s from a comic.”

“Hoo?”

“I said… Wait, you know what? Never mind. We’re not doing this again. I’m going down to the basement, okay?”

“Hoo.”

Spike frowned at the owl for a few seconds before shrugging and opening the basement door. “Just don’t wake Twilight. Okay, buddy?”

Owlowiscious nodded and answered with a definitive “Hu-hoo.”

“Right. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. The fearless Rex Rover, making his way into the deep… shadowy… uh… really, really spooky basement. Okay. No problem.”

Spike braced himself, took a deep breath, and stepped through the doorway. After a few steps, he stopped and looked down the stairs. He could see three or four steps down before the rest of the staircase, along with the basement itself, was swallowed up in a pool of inky darkness. And, while Spike was gathering his courage, that’s when the door swung shut by itself behind him, cutting off his only source of light.

There was something Spike learned that day. He learned that there was what he had thought was dark, and then there was dark. A dark so dark that, even with his night vision, he couldn’t see the end of his own snout in front of him. A dark that seeped into his eyes and right into his brain, paralyzing him and making his breath come in short, pained wheezes. Darkness that seemed almost liquid in its blackness, making him wonder if the rest of the world still existed, or if it had all just vanished.

He stood there shivering, and the thought made it into his head that maybe he was all alone. Maybe there wasn’t anything around him. Or, even worse, maybe there was. There could be something here with him, something that had been lurking below, waiting for the young dragon to—

“Oh, right. I’m a dragon.”

A short puff of green fire cast the stairway into oddly-tinted shadows. More importantly, it showed him where the light switch was.

“Much better,” Spike said a moment later as the lights came on. “Uh, not that I was scared or anything.”

His words were swallowed up by the basement, disappearing into a room that was crowded with Twilight’s scientific equipment, cobwebs and dust, and no shortage of spooky shadowy places that things could be lurking in. He cleared his throat and walked down the rest of the stairs with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

Under the stairway itself was a storage closet, which was the home of the winter blankets after Winter Wrap-up. Spike pulled one of the blankets out and put it on the floor as a sort of makeshift mattress. Then, nearly trembling with excitement, he reached into his pillow’s case and pulled out the purple and green tablet computer that Erin had given him as a present earlier in the day. Or, Spike realized, the previous day, since it was now extremely early in the morning.

Stylus in one claw and tablet in the other, he tried to remember Twilight’s instructions on how to turn it on. After a minute or two, he remembered the little button in the corner. Then he went to the icon called “Videos”, grinning when he saw how many movies were listed.

Spike scrolled through until he found the one title he was looking for. There was only one problem.

“How come there are so many?” he grumbled. “I can’t tell which one is the first one.”

He flipped through his choices, all while holding his stylus the same way he’d hold a quill. The movement started feeling natural to his hand pretty quickly.

“Oh, I get it! Some of these are sequels! The other ones… I don’t know, they must be side stories?” He frowned, concentrating. “Hmm… This looks like the first one, then.”

He double-tapped on his selection, just like Twilight had taught him, and the movie started up. Finally, he was going to see what this thing was all about! No more being put off or told that maybe they would get to it next time. He licked his lips in anticipation as the first words of the movie played over the tablet’s speakers.

”This… is Berk."

When Celestia awoke, it was with a sense of peace and purpose. The obvious solution to a lot of problems had occurred to her just as she was waking, proving once again that a problem slept upon would often present its own solutions upon awaking. What had seemed like an insurmountable tangle of obligations and conflicting responsibilities had resolved itself into a nice, simple pattern, and now all that was left was to get everypony to go along with it.

That was a worry for later in the day, however. For now, Celestia had responsibilities that she couldn’t ignore. Her horn glowed a soft gold, lifting off her bedsheets as she stepped out of her bed. She stretched each leg and wing in turn as she stepped lightly to the eastern balcony of her quarters and regarded the horizon. It was still a dark purple from the night, though with a glow as the sun approached, burning off the last of the momentum that Celestia had given it the previous day.

Canterlot was still sleeping beneath her, the flickering streetlights looking like very orderly stars below her. Here and there, a pony moved in the shadows, early risers on their way to work or late sleepers on their way home. Celestia smiled down at them before looking back to the glowing horizon. It was time to start the day.

Outside of a few specific events, such as the Summer Sun Celebration, not many ponies had ever seen Celestia actually raise the sun. When asked, the average pony would likely assume that some sort of ritual was needed in order for their Princess to raise the sun. The truth was, after all this time, bringing the dawn had become a nearly effortless routine to her.

It started, as always, with Celestia gathering her magic and will. Power swelled in her and she held it like her breath, wings spread at her sides as she began to glow a golden color that matched the glow from her horn.

At one time, it had taken a circle of powerful unicorns to perform the ritual that Celestia now performed, drawing fresh runes of power into circles carved into the floor. Those circles had been infused with power, which the runes had helped to channel.

Celestia had long since gone past the need for such assistance. She concentrated, and an image of the ritual circle and symbols flashing through her mind so quickly that she barely even noticed it. With the power gathered and shaped, she gave it a gentle nudge. A comforting warmth ran through her entire body as her connection to the sun was established.

The truth was, nopony could move something as massive as the sun under their own power. Not even Discord, at least not without tapping into the highly dangerous primordial chaos itself, much like Celestia was now tapping into the power of the sun. This was not a secret, though very few knew it outside of the upper echelons of the Arcanum.

She basked in that warmth for a long moment. Of the few pleasures her day allowed, this was her favorite. Still, duty called. She drew on a tiny fraction of the sun’s tremendous, roiling power to give it a small push, adding to the momentum that kept the ball of fire, life and magic circling around the world.

The horizon glowed pink and orange as the sun poked its crown over the distant hills. From Castle Canterlot, the sun could be seen much sooner than from down on the surface. It would still be some time before the villages around the base of Mount Canterlot would see more than a gentle brightening to the east.

A calm satisfaction overcame her as she regarded the lands below. Ponies would be waking soon, starting their days warmed by the sun that she helped to move. Even after all this time, it was very satisfying to be so needed.

“Good morning, my old friend,” Celestia murmured fondly towards the rising sun.

It hadn’t always been so easy. The ritual to move the sun was dangerous, so much so that many unicorns had either burned out their magic or had died during the daily ritual required to keep it moving. And Celestia hadn’t always been as experienced as she was today.

When she was very young, the touch of the sun upon her mind had terrified her. It was a burning fury, untamed and wild. It was a storm of pure power, it was elemental flame and life and, if she wasn’t careful with it, a very quick death. A younger Celestia had struggled to master that fear enough to navigate the scorching tempest in order to prevent her own mind from being incinerated.

Celestia had realized centuries ago that this danger was most likely why the mages of old hadn’t minded passing the responsibility to a young and inexperienced alicorn. But after centuries of familiarity, the flood of power no longer frightened her.

She held the power for just a moment longer and then, with a sigh, released it. The glow surrounding her faded as she walked serenely towards her private bathroom and the elegant shower contained within. Moments later, hot water poured down her neck and across her withers and back, soothing and relaxing her in almost the same way as the sun itself did. Hot running water was still one of Celestia’s very favorite things. Life had been very different without it.

The humid air surrounded her, and once again her mind wandered as it often did at this time of the day. She was glad to allow it. This was the only time she had to herself, before the demands of the day started clamoring for her attention.

Celestia reflected briefly on her recent decision, which brought a small frown to her lips. Her ponies loved her, it was true. But, in spite of her best efforts to encourage them otherwise, they relied upon her so very much. She knew she was the rock upon which so many of them built their lives. She’d heard the joke before, or some variation of it, many times over the centuries: only three things last forever, and those are death, taxes, and Celestia, though nopony knew for sure about the first two.

This led her to memories of all the times she’d tried to give back control of the sun to the mages. Modern improvements to the ritual would cut the risk to nearly nothing, and it would be one less thing her little ponies relied upon her for. They’d always refused, of course. To them, as to most ponies, Celestia and the sun were very nearly the same thing.

That obviously wasn’t the case. Still, Celestia made certain that copies of the ritual were located in various places, including the Arcanum in Canterlot and the Mage’s College of Manehattan. Something as important as knowing how to move the sun was far too critical to leave with just one pony, no matter who that pony was.

The sun hadn’t always had ponies around to help move it. There were legends that she’d heard when she was very young, legends that spoke of ancient titans of massive power that moved the sun through a force of will. Those legends, as tattered and incomplete as they were, had been passed down to her by the very same unicorn wizards who had taught her the ritual that raised the sun. They had told her the stories in whispered fragments, as if afraid those titans would hear and return.

It was possible, Celestia had decided ages ago, that such titans had once existed. Still, she doubted it. The wizards, with their scant century or so of years, had never gained the familiarity with the sun that she had. In truth, the sun wanted to be moved. It was made to be moved. Who or what made it in the first place was the more pertinent question than how it was moved before ponies came along.

When she stepped out of the shower, coat awry and her mane wrapped in a towel, she was greeted by her retinue of morning helpers. This included two palace staff who curried her coat, another who would brush out her mane, and another for her tail. Also present was Quillmark, her personal secretary and Keeper of the Royal Schedule, a title that Celestia had suggested some five centuries earlier as a joke, but which had stuck. Much like the Secretary for Remembering Where All of the Meeting Rooms Are, though that was usually shortened to Secretary of Rooms.

“Good morning, Celestia,” Quillmark said with a brief inclination of her head.

“Good morning, Quill,” Celestia replied pleasantly. It had taken her years to break her secretary of the habit of calling her “Princess” and bowing every time she spoke. “I see you’ve changed your manestyle?”

Quillmark smiled briefly, running a hoof through her lavender mane. It was cut in a short bob, parting around either side of her horn and curling up at her jawline. “Yes, I decided I wanted something easier to maintain.”

“It looks very nice,” Celestia said, both sincere and, briefly, slightly jealous. Her own mane, as much as ponies admired it, would never submit so easily to the shears. The last time she’d tried to have it cut, the stylist had eventually walked out of her own shop and taken up gardening on the far side of Equestria.

“Thank you. Shall we go over the schedule?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Celestia listened as Quillmark ran through her morning appointments, managing to pay attention in spite of the ministrations of the royal groomers. She’d had lots of practice, after all.

One somewhat surprising thing on the list was a request by Fair Trade, head of the Merchant’s Trade Association, for a meeting to discuss opening the gateway to Earth more frequently. Celestia considered that momentarily before nodding.

“Please let Fair Trade know that I will need to meet with the Arcanum before I can make a decision, and that I will meet with him in two days to discuss the possibility.”

“Yes, Celestia,” Quillmark said, making a note on her clipboard. “I think that was about it. Was there anything you wanted to add?”

“No. Wait, yes. Could you ask a runner to find my sister? I’d like her to meet me in the dining hall in half an hour.”

“Yes, Celestia,” Quill said, inclining her head once again.

As Quillmark went out in the hallway to speak to the guards, Celestia relaxed and let the grooming staff work her over, making her presentable for the day. When she imagined how Luna would take her announcement, a small bubble of laughter almost made itself heard.

She made do with a small, nearly-hidden smile. A Princess must preserve her image, after all.

A vast expanse of grey stone stretched in every direction, crazed with small fissures but with a relentless sameness that made it impossible to tell one direction from any other. The distant horizon shimmered a greyish-blue, promising no change for hundreds of miles, should anyone be foolish enough to attempt crossing it.

Erin stood in the center of the field of cracked grey stone, dread clamping her chest and making it hard to breathe. With her hands pressed tightly to her breastbone, she could feel her heart hammering inside of her ribcage. Irregular tremors came from beneath her, traveling through her shoes, into her feet and up her legs. She couldn’t see it, but she knew the tremors came from the motions of a great monster trapped below, lurching and pushing at its prison and attempting to escape.

That, alone, would have been enough to terrify her. Years of nightmares regarding the Black Tide, and here it was separated from her by an unknown width of fragile cracked and flaking stone.

But what was in the shack was much worse.

Twenty feet in front of her was a small, prefabricated white shack, flimsy and hastily-assembled from plywood and covered with white aluminum siding. There was a single door set in the front of it, and the windows on either side of the door had their blinds drawn. On the door was a simple black painted knob, set into a white aluminum door with no windows and looking completely normal. And yet it somehow inspired a sick fear in her that she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. She had to keep staring at it because, every time she looked away and back again, the shack was somehow closer.

A sound came from behind her, the scuffling of a hoof on stone, and Erin’s head whipped around. Nothing. The stone stretched on and on, completely empty. It was just her and…

Erin’s head turned slowly, almost of its own accord. The shack was right in front of her, now, the door close enough to touch. Movement behind the door, some creature thrashing what was left of its body on the floor.

A whimper tried to climb out of Erin’s throat, only to be strangled halfway up. Her hand raised, independent of her will, reaching out for the handle.

“Please,” she managed, her voice raspy and strained. “Please. I don’t want to open this door.”

“Then don’t,” a voice said in her ear.

Erin snorted and blinked, waking up with the icy chill of terror running down her back. Even as she tried to remember it, the dream cracked and melted like thin crystals of ice in the sun. All that was left was a sense of unease and the remembrance of terror as a voice spoke unexpectedly in her ear.

As she lay trembling on her couch, and even as the dream faded, Erin realized that she knew that voice. It was a voice she’d just heard the previous day, after all.

“I’ve got to tell Pinkie to stop showing up in my dreams,” Erin mumbled, still shaking with spent adrenaline. After a few seconds, the absurdity of her comment filtered through her sleep-logged brain. She started chuckling, relief flooding her as she realized she was safe, in her home in Ponyville.

A quick glance out the nearest window showed the brightening of the sky. Morning was close, and sleep felt like it was miles away, so Erin decided that she might as well start her day. With a grunt, she rolled off of her couch and onto the floor, only to stand there yawning hugely for a minute or more while scratching at her mane with a forehoof.

When she finally made her way to the bathroom, she had to stop for a moment to gape at the mirror before breaking out into laughter.

“Wow, talk about bed head.”

A couple of quick strokes with the brush took care of the worst of it, though she’d be winning no prizes for grooming. Her stomach rumbled as she brushed her morning breath away. She mentally reviewed the contents of her new kitchen, and found her options to be less than appealing.

Aside from some staples she’d bought, there wasn’t much she could use to make an appetizing breakfast. Not to mention that Erin wasn’t the best of cooks even when she had hands. The type of disaster she could make in the kitchen with hooves didn’t really bear thinking about.

“I guess it’s more Sugarcube Corner leftovers,” she said to her reflection. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, wondering what it was about that statement that bothered her.

It had been a couple of days, and the pastries were no doubt getting a little stale by now, but that didn’t bother her much. As she rinsed the toothpaste out of her mouth, it hit her that she wouldn’t be using Ascent again any time soon. This meant that any pony pudge she put on around the middle would be staying with her for a while. Which also meant, sadly, that her free cake ride was pretty much over and she had to start watching what she ate.

Erin scowled at her reflection. “Ain’t no way I’m givin’ up cake,” she growled. She poked a hoof at her reflection. “You tryin’ to take my cake? You think you’re mare enough to take my baked goods away?”

Her reflection didn’t have much to say on the subject, so Erin stuck her tongue out and giggled.

“I think that’s a vote for ‘cake for breakfast’,” Erin concluded.

Pony potbelly problems aside, she decided that she could always try to run the extra pounds off. And, since she preferred to eat after running, that meant ignoring her hunger for now, and walking past the kitchen to exit out her front door.

The early March air was bracing, to say the least. Winter was over, but that didn’t keep the chill out of the air, especially with the sun barely cresting the horizon. The air was crisp and clean in her nose and the early birds were twittering away in the treetops. She stretched her legs one by one as she looked around while planning out a route for her run.

Erin heard the sound of a door closing nearby and looked around to see her next door neighbor, a light grey pegasus with a blond mane, just leaving her house. Erin smiled and trotted up to the fence that separated their front lawns.

“Good morning!”

The pegasus jumped, her wings flexing slightly as she looked around. Her face relaxed into a smile when she saw Erin standing there.

“Oh, good morning! You’re up early.”

“I was going to go for a quick run this morning.” Erin said. “By the way, I don’t think I ever introduced myself last time we met. I’m Erin. I also go by Sunflower, if you like that better.”

The pegasus nodded. “I know. You’re the most popular subject of conversation around town these days. I’m Ditzy Doo, or just Ditzy.”

Erin blinked. “Ah...”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ditzy said with a wink. “Ditzy is kind of a mean name, right? I mean, if you call someone a ditz, it must mean they’re a little goofy, right?”

“Uh, no, I…” Erin stammered to a halt. “Well, maybe a little?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ditzy said waving a hoof. “I’m actually named after a flower, the ditzenium. Lovely silver center with golden petals.”

Erin sagged with relief. “Oh, really?”

Ditzy nodded soberly for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “No, not really. But that’s my favorite joke!”

Erin joined in, giggling in spite of herself.

Ditzy shook her head. “No, no, sorry. I’m actually named after an aunt on Dad’s side of the family. ‘Ditzy’ was her nickname which, trust me, she earned. My mom thought it was a cute name but didn’t know what it meant.”

“So, your mom is a bit of a ditz?” Erin ventured.

Ditzy stared at her for a few seconds as Erin’s smile slowly turned awkward. Then she started laughing once again, much to Erin’s relief.

“You bet she was!” Ditzy said, grinning.

Erin breathed a sigh of relief before she returned Ditzy’s smile.

“Say, do you have any plans for tonight?” Ditzy asked.

“No, not really,” Erin said. “Just setting things up in the house.”

“Did you want to come over for dinner tonight? Meet my daughter? I’ll make my famous carrot casserole!”

Erin smiled. “That would be wonderful, thanks! What time should I come over?”

“We usually eat about six.”

“Should I bring anything? I have a bunch of leftover baked goods from my party at Sugarcube Corner, if you don’t mind them being a couple of days old.”

Ditzy grinned. “Oh, Dinky’s going to adore you. That filly has a sweet tooth. Sure, bring some over.”

“You got it,” Erin said with a sharp nod. The name Dinky seemed familiar, though she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it before. “You can even keep some, if you want.”

“You’re going to spoil us rotten,” Ditzy said, smiling and placing a hoof on Erin’s shoulder. “We’ll see you at six, then?”

“You got it.”

“Right,” she said, spreading her wings and flapping them a couple of times. “Well, it was nice meeting you again Sunflower, but I really have to get going if I want to be on time.” A couple of flaps later, and Ditzy was airborne. “See you later!” she called, waving a hoof.

“Bye!” Erin called, waving back. She watched for a few seconds as Ditzy flew away and then, with a happy smile and a growing warmth in her heart, Erin turned towards the semi-wild grasslands outside of Ponyville to start her morning run.

She started at a slow trot, getting the feel of things once again. Today felt like a clockwise day, so Erin turned right once she left the last road on the outskirts of town. The grasses were still wet with dew, and it wasn’t long before she was soaked halfway to the knee on each leg.

A few minutes later, Erin decided that she’d warmed up enough and let out a wild whoop while breaking into a gallop. She grinned into the wind as it streamed across her, making her mane and tail flow. Her legs were warming up nicely, and she pushed herself a little harder, the fields opening before her as she ran.

Ten minutes later she collapsed, wheezing, in a field of daisies. She’d made it maybe halfway around what had once been her usual circuit around Ponyville before her legs had just given up, which is why she was now in the somewhat undignified position of laying on her side and gasping for breath while wildflowers tickled her nose and ears.

In her previous stay in Ponyville, she’d run laps around the village at much higher speeds than she’d managed today, without even breaking a sweat until her third lap. Today, though, she was already at her limits.

She wondered about it for a while, as she sucked in huge lungfuls of air while stretching her legs to keep them from cramping up. Of course it had to be the enhanced musculature of her old pony body that made the difference. She had turned down those enhancements since she hadn’t wanted anything that would mess up the possibility of using magic. Besides, earth pony magic was supposed to give her enhanced strength and endurance.

As Erin lay there in the daisies and idly contemplated throwing up in spite of her empty stomach, she decided that the earth pony magic must not be kicking in quite yet.

After an uncounted number of minutes, Erin finally levered herself back to her hooves. Her legs felt weak and as wobbly as a foal’s. A gallop was obviously out of the question, so Erin decided to walk for a while. It took a few minutes before enough of her strength returned for her to go back to a trot.

It had been a long while since running had been this hard for her. When she’d first started going for morning runs back when she was a teenager, she’d had many days when she’d wanted to give up or just stay in bed. A few times, she actually had thrown up, which is why she always ate after she ran these days.

As Erin switched back into a walk, she realized that she would just have to build her endurance up again the old fashioned way: no Ascent and no earth pony magic, just effort, sweat and resolve.

She laughed in the early morning air.

“This is so going to suck,” she said, her mouth turning up into a rueful smile.

The Royal Dining Hall was once again outfitted for breakfast. Two royal servants stood against the walls with stoic expressions on their faces, waiting for orders. They steadfastly ignored the flying spoon that weaved and bobbed its way through the air, wrapped in a golden aura. The spoon, loaded with maple-syrup laced oatmeal, approached the tiny alicorn colt seated at the table.

“Yum, yum. Isn’t this delicious, Verdant?”

The colt turned his head away stubbornly. “Nuh.”

Celestia sighed. “It really is very good. And it will make you grow up big and strong. You want to grow up to be big and strong, right?”

Verdant scowled at her and pounded his little hooves on the table. “Nuh.”

Through the centuries, Celestia had dealt with stubborn ambassadors, intransigent nobles, cantankerous trade representatives and unbending foreign rulers. She had learned methods to sway even the most relentlessly headstrong to see things her way. All of that was simple and straightforward compared to getting a young colt to eat his breakfast, though much more likely to cause international conflict.

Honey Heart stepped forward. “If I may, Highness?”

Celestia smoothed away the frown on her muzzle as soon as she realized it had appeared. “I suppose so.”

“Thank you,” Honey Heart said as her horn lit up.

Verdant eyed her with evident mistrust in his eyes as she took the spoon away from Celestia. The nursemaid returned the look cooly, arching an eyebrow.

“You don’t want this, Verdant?” Honey Heart asked.

Verdant shook his head, scowling like thunder.

“Good. That means that I get to eat it all,” Honey Heart said. The spoon dipped towards her mouth and she mimed eating it. “Mmmm. Oooh, this is delicious!”

The scowl faded from Verdant’s face as his ears lifted from laying flat on his head. A glimmer of curiosity crossed his features. Honey Heart dipped the spoon back towards the bowl, moving the spoon quickly so as to disguise the fact that she didn’t actually scoop up any more oatmeal. Then she mimed eating a second bite.

“Mmm. This is so good! I’m going to eat the whole bowl, Verdant.”

“Ah!” Panic crossed the colt’s face and he flung both forehooves towards his nursemaid. “No, no, no!”

“What? But you can’t have any!”

Tiny hooves pounded the table. “No, mine!”

“But you didn’t want any before. You want it now?”

“Yes!” Verdant exclaimed, his bottom lip jutting out in a world-class pout.

Honey Heart frowned at him before sighing. “All right. But you have to eat the whole bowl, then. Alright?”

Verdant nodded his head vigorously and reached out with his forehooves.

“First, say ‘please’,” Honey Heart said, holding the spoon just out of the foal’s reach.

Verdant looked almost on the verge of tears. “Please?”

“Now, that is a good boy,” Honey Heart said with satisfaction, lowering the spoon towards the suddenly-happy prince’s mouth.

Celestia watched, her heart aching at being excluded and her resolve building to change the situation, as Verdant began eating his breakfast, the spoon still held in Honey Heart’s magical grasp. The soft click of the door opening distracted her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Luna stepping into the room.

“Good morning, sister,” Luna said. Her horn lit up, and several small pastries lifted themselves off of the cart and floated towards her. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes, Luna, though it can wait until after you’ve eaten. How was the Night Court?”

Luna had just taken a large bite out of a pecan tart. She rolled her eyes before answering, her words muffled due to the food in her mouth. “Dull. Nopony much wishes to speak to me, it seems.”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full, Luna,” Celestia admonished gently, chuckling when Luna glared at her.

Luna rolled her eyes at her, but still finished swallowing her tart before continuing. “I had a mere two petitioners before I closed the court.” She snorted with annoyance. “Warding the Dreamrealms, at least, has provided me with something to keep me busy. I had to clear away several phantasms, a shade or two, and even a baku before I could even begin to monitor our subjects’ dreams.”

Celestia straightened up. “A baku? I thought they were extinct.”

“Apparently not,” Luna said with a shrug. “I felt a little guilty chasing it off, to be honest. They are not ill-intentioned, but they are not harmless.”

Celestia bit her lower lip for a moment. If Luna was already overwhelmed, then her plan was in jeopardy. What she needed was some way to take the pressure off, to give her sister more time. The answer came to her in a flash of inspiration.

“Ah. I have an idea.”

Luna was in the middle of biting into another tart, raspberry this time. She made a circular motion with her hoof to indicate that Celestia should continue.

“How would you feel about re-establishing the Dreamguard?” Celestia asked.

She expected a reaction to this thought, and Luna didn’t disappoint. She began hacking and coughing on her tart, pounding on her chest and bringing her glass of juice up to her muzzle with her magic.

Verdant, distracted from his oatmeal by the display, goggled at her for a moment before he began giggling.

Celestia smiled fondly at him for a moment before addressing his nursemaid. “Honey Heart, could you take the young prince to the nursery and play with him for a while?”

“Of course, Highness.” Honey Heart bowed and lifted Verdant onto her back before leaving.

By this time, Luna had finally recovered enough to croak out the word, “What?”

Celestia shrugged. “Why not? The ponies didn’t always have us to ward their dreams, after all. Why not make them responsible for it once again?”

Luna scowled at that. “And what then? Shall I once again be relegated to the role of the useless Princess? Stuck away in a tower, merely raising the moon when you’re too busy to do so yourself?”

“Ah, in regards to that,” Celestia began, speaking carefully. “I’m afraid I have an ulterior motive for wanting to free up some of your time.”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?”

“I would like to take a step back from the government, and turn over many of my duties to you.” Celestia watched as confusion ran over her sister’s face. “I wish to be more available for Verdant. Naturally, I would still be nearby in case you needed my help or advice, but you would be the primary Princess in charge, running both the Day and Night Courts on your own.”

Luna stared wide-eyed back at her. “I… I am not certain I am ready for such a thing, Celestia.”

Celestia smiled comfortingly back at her, reaching across the table to pat her with a forehoof. “You dealt with things well enough while I was injured a few months ago,” she pointed out.

Luna scoffed. “That was both an emergency situation and also for a very short term.” She looked away before mumbling, “And I am certain that the whole time I was making nothing but mistake after mistake.”

“Untrue,” Celestia said gently. “Besides, this time you wouldn’t be alone, and the transition doesn’t have to be sudden. We can take some time with it, though I would like to get this started sooner rather than later.”

“How… how long would you want?” Luna asked, her voice faint. “Years?”

“At least five,” Celestia confirmed before taking a sip of her tea. “He would be in school by then, which will hopefully free up more of my time.”

Luna looked torn. If Celestia had to guess, her desire for recognition and respect were warring with her inner belief that she deserved neither. It wasn’t only for Verdant’s sake that Celestia wanted this time away from the throne, after all.

Finally, Luna took a deep breath and gave a sharp nod. “I’ll do it.”

Celestia smiled. “Thank you, Luna.”

Doctor Edwards leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his chin, and frowned across the conference table. “So, you wanted to show me something?”

Doctor Mikel Rost, a thin, tall black man in his early forties, nodded and grinned. “It’s right here; hold on.”

Mikel stood and reached down to the large wheeled trunk he’d rolled into the conference room with him. He undid the latches and flipped open the lid, causing a hiss of outrushing, shockingly cold air that caused a mist to roll along the floor.

“Liquid nitrogen,” he said as he pulled on a heavy pair of safety gloves. “No idea if it helps keep this dormant or not, but it seems crazy not to at least try.”

Dr. Edwards’ scowl deepened. “Keep what dormant, Mikel?”

In response, Mikel heaved at something hidden in the foggy depths of the trunk. What he lifted out was a large, flat-bottomed globe of thick acrylic with a handle along on top like a kettlebell. When Dr. Edwards saw what was inside, he surged to his feet with a panicked shout, his chair shooting backwards and hitting the conference room wall.

Mikel rolled his eyes at him. “Relax, Tom. It’s dormant, like I said.”

“Good God, man! How could you bring that here?”

“I told you, it’s harmless like this. I’ve been studying it for weeks, now.” He grinned. “Did you know it looks just a little bit like brain tissue under a microscope?”

“Does anyone know you have it?”

“Robert Thomson does,” Mikel said smugly. “He authorized my research.”

Dr. Edwards’ eyes narrowed. “I’ll be checking that with him, just so you know.”

Mikel shrugged, spreading his hands in front of him, palms up. The globe sat on the table, a discolored ring spreading away from the globe as the top was damaged by the extreme cold.

“Properties is going to kill you for the damage to the table,” Dr. Edwards said absently.

Mikel shrugged. “They can bill me.”

More time passed while Mikel waited for his old mentor to make up his mind.

“And what’s in it for me?” he asked finally.

Mikel’s grin widened. “Co-authorship on any paper we write. I’ll even let you have top billing.”

Dr. Edwards snorted. “We’ll be tarred and feathered if the wrong people find out we’re working on this.”

Mikel laughed, knowing that he’d gotten what he wanted. He reached out his hand as Doctor Edwards reached out his own. They shook hands across the table while the basketball-sized chunk of dormant Black Tide slowly warmed up between them.

Author's Notes:

And now for some more editing shenanigans:

BP's Editor's note:

From the We Take Our Editing And Writing Very Serious department:

"Celestia listened as Quillmark ran through her morning appointments, managing to pay attention in spite of the ministrations of the royal groomers. She’d had lots of practice, after all."

BP: I would pay good money to watch the first day of one of those groomers, especially if they had to groom the royal tush.

Hoopy: The Royal Posterior isn't a place for newcomers to sharpen their skills, oh no. New Royal Groomers mustn't start at the bottom.

Ekevoo: She probably is good at ignoring even the newbies thanks to the power of daily rituals.

BP: Ah, but will the new guy be able to ignore the royal tush?

Ekevoo: I wouldn't. Not Celie's problem though.

Chapter 09: Departures

The front door opened to allow a wobbly-legged Erin to stagger into her home. A nudge with a hind leg closed the door behind her as Erin made her way to the kitchen. With her legs all trembling, it was an easy decision for her to not bother with a glass, instead instead just turning on the faucet and sticking her head under the flow of water with her mouth open as she drank greedily.

Once sated, Erin sat back and ran a foreleg across her wet mouth. That run had been much harder than she’d expected. Not only were her legs sore and her mane and tail a knotted mess, but the dried sweat in her coat was making the hair stick out in crazy spikes and swirls all over her body.

She made her way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water heat up to lukewarm before hopping in. With a contented sigh, she just stood under the jet of water, letting it sluice over her, tickling the hair on her belly as it ran down towards her hooves.

Thirty minutes later, and after some vigorous scrubbing, Erin stepped out while drying herself with a large white towel. The bottom of her bathtub was dotted with burrs and plant debris that she’d painstakingly pulled out of her coat and tail, minor trophies that she’d acquired during her run through the tall grass and wildflowers on the outskirts of Ponyville.

Erin did her best to ignore her growling stomach as she started grooming herself. She started with her mane and worked along her coat before finally finishing up with her tail, pulling out a few more burrs that she’d missed along the way. When she was finished with the brushing, she opened up her Feathermaster kit in order to attend to her wings.

It was a very different Erin who stepped out of the bathroom almost an hour after she had first gone in. Most of the exhaustion was gone, and her hair was nicely brushed, though still damp. As she made her way to the kitchen in order to finally shut up her complaining stomach, a thought occurred to her.

“Oh, yeah… I was supposed to start bringing Twilight with me on my morning runs.”

She chuckled as she opened the cardboard box that held the rest of the bakery items from her welcome-back party. Back in her old pony body, Twilight had barely been able to keep up with her even when Erin was going slowly. Now, she had to wonder whether or not her unicorn friend would be leaving her in the dust.

As she chewed on a raspberry-filled jelly donut, Erin decided that she could worry about that later. If nothing else, Twilight being in better shape than she was might actually convince the bookish unicorn to get out and exercise more often, which was a win-win as far as Erin was concerned.

Erin considered her plans for the day as she washed down her less-than-healthy breakfast with still more water directly from the sink. More unpacking didn’t seem all that appealing. And, as comfortable as her couch was, she wanted an actual, real bed. And maybe some foods that would be simpler for her to prepare wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Shopping it is, then,” Erin said as she walked back towards the front door. She slipped on her pine green saddlebags with the sunflower clasps and went outside. She decided to leave the cart behind, opting to keep the grocery shopping to the minimum for now, at least until she got better at cooking.

With her legs recovered from her morning run, Erin smiled and broke into an easy trot, heading towards the main market of Ponyville.

Spike’s dreams of flying were rudely interrupted by a feeling of minor heartburn and a familiar rumble in his gut. Even being roused out of a deep sleep he knew what to expect and, out of habit, he angled his head upwards just as a massive flame-shrouded belch ripped its way out of his mouth.

Smacking his lips to clear the aftertaste, Spike rolled over and hiked his blanket up around his shoulders. “Letter, Twilight,” he mumbled as he tried to drift off again.

A few seconds passed, and he became vaguely aware that Twilight hadn’t responded. He lifted a groggy head and then spent the next few seconds staring around in blank confusion. He wasn’t in his basket at the foot of Twilight’s bed. He wasn’t even on the main floor. He was, for some unknown reason, laying cocooned in some blankets in the basement.

The previous night came back to him in a sudden rush: he had been watching movies on his tablet, without Twilight’s supervision, and he had really enjoyed himself, though it had taken him a while to get used to the whole “dragons as pets” thing. His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to figure out a way to sneak back up into the kitchen and make popcorn without waking up Twilight in the process.

“Musta fell asleep,” Spike mumbled. The movies had been great, with the second being even better than the first, and the third at least starting out amazing. His memory of the third movie washed out after a little while, and he realized he must have fallen asleep shortly after the movie had started.

Spike yawned hugely and rubbed a hand across his eyes to clear the sleep-crust away as he looked around for his tablet. He finally spotted it lying on the floor next to where he’d spent the night curled up. He picked it up with a grin, deciding that there was no time like the present to finish watching that movie, before Twilight found him and started loading up his days with chores. The screen was dark, so he hit the button on top like Twilight had told him to do.

Nothing happened.

Spike blinked and pushed the button again, this time a little harder. Nothing continued to happen, much to Spike’s growing alarm. He pushed it again and again and, after not getting any response from the tablet, raised it above his head and shook it gently.

It didn’t do any good.

Tears welled up in Spike’s eyes.“Oh no! I broke it!” He tossed aside his blankets and, chubby legs pumping, raced up the stairs while sobs hitched at his lungs. He flung the basement door open and took a deep breath.

“Twi-hi-liiiiiiight!” came the sobbing wail as he ran through the library.

“Spike?”

Spike looked around to see Twilight, looking slightly frazzled herself as she stood by the front door with her saddlebags on.

“Spike! Where have you—” Twilight shook her head and took a few steps towards him. “Never mind! What’s wrong?”

“I broke it!” Spike cried, holding out his precious tablet.

Twilight blinked at it as she picked the tablet up with her magic, frowning for a moment before a look of realization came into her eyes.

“Spike, did you spend the whole night playing with your tablet?”

If he’d been less upset, Spike would have noticed the half-dangerous, half-amused tone of voice that Twilight was directing towards him. As it was, he was too wound up in his personal tragedy to notice.

“Yeah, and then I fell asleep, and when I woke up it wouldn’t turn back on!” All the crying had made Spike’s nose runny, so he rubbed his forearm across his snout and snuffled, not noticing Twilight’s shudder as he did so. Then he flung himself forward and hugged her around one foreleg.

“I bro-ho-hoooke iiiiit!” Spike cried miserably.

“It’s not broken, Spike,” Twilight said as she tried to tug her leg out of his grasp. “It just needs more power. The battery ran out.”

Spike looked up at her, the fires of hope swelling in him. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Twilight said, finally able to extract her leg from his embrace. She grimaced at a shiny spot on her fur before continuing. “You just need to plug it in for a while and it should be fine.”

Relief washed over him, drowning out every other emotion and bringing out a huge smile on his face. “That’s great!” he said, directing his grin at Twilight.

The look she directed back down at him made his smile falter as the relief started to drain away. It was the perfectly straight mouth, narrow eyes and raised eyebrow that Twilight used whenever she wanted to let him know that he’d gone and messed something up.

“Oh. I, uh… I suppose I’m in trouble?” he asked weakly.

“Hmm…” Twilight considered this for a moment. “Yes and no.”

“Uh…” Spike replied, completely at a loss. Fortunately, Twilight was more than willing to fill him in.

“No, you’re not in trouble for sneaking off and watching movies all night instead of sleeping. I think the worry you went through when you thought you’d broken your tablet is enough punishment for that.” Twilight smiled gently down at him and rubbed his head with a hoof.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Because I thought—”

“However,” Twilight continued, “for disappearing without telling me where you were and making me worry all morning, I think it’s only fair that you get some punishment for that.” She frowned down at him, anguish plain on her features. “I was really worried, Spike! I was about to go out and try to find you!”

“Oh…” Spike looked down at the floor and saw that he was tracing a random doodle on the floor with his toes. “I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry.”

Twilight drew him into a hug. “Apology accepted. And no using your tablet for three days.”

“What?!” Spike tried to squirm his way out of Twilight’s embrace. “Aww, come on, Twilight!”

“Nope, sorry,” Twilight said, hugging him tighter. “Though, with good behavior, I might trim the sentence down to two days.”

“Fine,” Spike grumbled. “Oh! I forgot. You got a letter. That’s what woke me up.”

“Well, you’d better go get it, then, shouldn’t you?” Twilight’s voice was teasing as she released him and ruffled his spines with a hoof once again.

“You got it!”

It only took a minute for Spike to get back down to the basement, pack up the blankets in storage once again, and get back upstairs with the scroll. Twilight took it in her magic and unrolled it, reading it quietly for a minute or so.

“Huh,” she said eventually.

“What’s up?”

“Princess Celestia is asking if I can come to Canterlot today. Apparently, she has something she wants to discuss with me.”

“Oh. Does she say why?”

“It looks like a few things, really,” Twilight said, rolling up the scroll and set it on a nearby shelf. “One is, it looks like she’s going to announce a change to the schedule for the gateway to Earth.”

“You think she’s going to make it happen more often?”

“Probably, judging by the second thing she wanted to talk to me about.”

Spike glanced at the scroll before looking back at Twilight. She seemed both excited and nervous about something. There was probably a word for that, but he was at a loss to think of it.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Well, apparently there’s some sort of cultural exchange program about to start up. Human students are going to come to Equestria for school, and ponies are going to Earth for the same reason.” Twilight grinned awkwardly and shrugged. “The mare that was organizing things can’t see it through, for some reason, so she’s asking if I could help organize the reception and orientation of the students heading to Earth, as well as the humans coming to Equestria.”

Spike considered that for a moment. “Wouldn’t Erin be useful for that?”

“Good point,” Twilight said with a nod and a frown. “I’ll ask the Princess if I can invite her.”

“Is that all?”

“No,” Twilight said, still frowning. “There was something else that she didn’t want to put down in a scroll that she said she wanted to tell me personally.”

Spike snorted. “I’m surprised you’re not out the door already.”

“Don’t be silly, Spike.” Twilight glanced at the clock on a nearby shelf. “The next express train to Canterlot doesn’t arrive for another forty minutes.”

Spike gaped at her. “You seriously have the train timetables memorized?”

“Uh, yeah?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like it’s all of them. Just the ones to and from Canterlot.”

He blinked at her a few times before shrugging. “I honestly have nothing to say to that.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though. Would you mind running around and letting the girls know that I may be gone for a couple of days?” She grimaced down at the shiny spot on her leg. “I need to shower really quickly before I head out, so I won’t have time to do it myself.”

“You got it, Twilight!” Spike fired off a salute and charged towards the door. Operation “be on best behavior in order to get the tablet back faster” was off to a running start!

There was only one store in town that actually sold beds, and that was Hatrack’s Furniture Warehouse. With their small selection, it hadn’t taken Erin long to decide on which to buy. It was roughly the same size as a full-sized human bed, though slightly shorter.

She also purchased a few small bookshelves, a nightstand, and several other bits and pieces that Erin hadn’t realized she needed, such as a thick, wiry welcome mat for visitors to clean their hooves on before walking into her house. Some accent art had been added to the purchase as well. Amongst the many, many landscape paintings available, there had been two pieces that had taken Erin’s interest. One was a watercolor of Cloudsdale, looking dreamlike and mystical. The other had been a strangely compelling picture of a frozen lake in wintertime, with dead reeds poking up above the snow cover.

The salespony that had helped her, a stallion by the name of Tallymark, had seemed surprised at her interest in those two paintings, particularly the frozen lake. Erin had gotten the impression that the lake painting had been in stock for a while, without anypony showing much interest in it. For some reason, that made her all the more determined to buy it.

With her bit-bag significantly lighter and the delivery arranged for the next day, Erin left Hatrack’s store with a satisfied smile on her face. Being able to spend so much money so freely was still a new experience for her, and there was something deeply satisfying about spending so much and knowing that she still had plenty left.

Erin was still composing a grocery list in her mind when someone came up behind her and tugged on her tail. Her ears flattened instinctively as she rounded on whoever it was that would be rude enough to do that. Her mouth was already open, ready for the scathing reproach that had jumped immediately to mind. When she realized that it was a breathless Spike, her annoyance melted away. The poor little guy looked like he’d been running himself into the ground.

“Spike! Is everything okay?”

The little dragon nodded and held up a claw to indicate the need for a moment to catch his breath as he gasped for air.

“Hey, Erin,” he said, once he’d recovered enough. “Twilight wanted me to let everypony know that she’d be going to Canterlot for a couple of days at least. The Princess wants her for something.”

Erin blinked. “Oh. Okay, thanks! How’s that going?”

“I told Rarity and Pinkie Pie first thing. And, lucky for me, Applejack had her stall set up in the market. I still have to tell Rainbow and Fluttershy, though.” A panicked look came over Spike’s face as he looked at the big clock tower in the middle of town. “Oh, no! The train will be here in another ten minutes! I have to get back before then!”

Erin smiled down at him and ruffled the spines on his head. “If you wanted me to, I’d be happy to tell Rainbow and Fluttershy.”

The look of relief that washed over the dragon’s face made Erin giggle a little. “You’d do that?”

“Sure. It’s not like I’m going to be late for work or anything.” Erin shrugged. “Besides, there’s no way you’d make it to Fluttershy’s and back in ten minutes.”

“I was going to go to Rainbow Dash’s house next, and ask her to fly me out there and back,” Spike said. “But now I don’t have to worry about that! Thanks, Erin!”

“You bet, Spike. Always glad to help!”

Spike started running off before stopping a short distance away. “Oh! I almost forgot. One of the reasons Princess Celestia wanted Twilight to come out was because of some sort of exchange program.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Exchange program?”

“Yeah. I guess some colts and fillies are going to Earth, and some human kids are coming to Equestria for school. Anyway, Twilight was going to ask if it was okay with the Princess if she asked you to come out.”

“Wow, a student exchange program? Neat!” Erin grinned. “I’d be happy to help out, if Princess Celestia wants me to.”

“Thanks. I’ll let Twilight know.” Spike started walking quickly away, waving over his shoulder. “Thanks, Erin! Oh, and thanks for the cool tablet thing, too!”

“You got it, Spike!” Erin called back, waving a hoof.

Spike disappeared around a corner at a quick jog. Erin chuckled and shook her head before starting her walk once again. It looked like grocery shopping would have to wait a bit, she decided as she made her way, once again, towards Rainbow Dash’s cloud house.

Twilight Sparkle had showered as fast as was equinely possible, in order to save precious minutes before her trip to Canterlot. She'd even left her mane damp rather than trying to dry it since, even with a drying spell, doing so would still add minutes of time to getting ready. She had packed her saddlebags with crisp efficiency, re-using an old, tried-and-true checklist to make sure that she had everything she could possibly need. Specifically, she had used the Pre-mission, Non-test checklist, which was heavy on preparatory items like scrolls, ink and quills, but light on flashcards and other study aids. She wasn’t going to Canterlot to take a test, after all, but she had to be ready for whatever it was that Celestia wanted her to do.

And now she found herself ready but unable to go, pacing back and forth in the large, central room on the main floor of the library as her tension mounted higher and higher. Every time she changed directions, she would steal a glance at the wall clock, mutter darkly, and then start pacing again.

Her options were limited to only three, from what she could see. One, she could keep waiting for Spike, who may or may not show up on time for them to get to the train. Two, she could go out and find him, which ran a high risk of them missing each other and, thus, the train, which was clearly unacceptable. The third option, which she was most inclined to choose at the moment, was to head to the train station immediately while leaving a note for Spike to follow as soon as he got home.

Upon reflection, option three had some obvious problems. Mainly in that Spike may not see the note, or might not arrive at the station on time if he did. Which would mean that Twilight would still miss the train regardless. The more she considered it, the less viable it seemed. The only time savings would be in the purchasing of the tickets.

While she was considering her options, the clock ticked and sliced off another minute of her day. The low, frustrated growl that started building in her throat cut off as the library door opened and Spike stumbled in. The little dragon stopped in the doorway, bending over with his hands on his knees as he wheezed and tried to catch his breath.

Twilight’s annoyance was immediately swamped by a flood of sympathy. The little guy had obviously been running himself ragged in order to do what she asked. As she watched her number one assistant and best friend struggle for air, guilt also started to make itself known, welling up in her chest and crowding out the last of her frustration. She had given him an impossible task, she realized. Of course he’d have run himself ragged trying to achieve it.

Still, there was a schedule to keep, and the train would be arriving from Canterlot very soon. Twilight cleared her throat.

“Are you okay, Spike?”

“Yeah… just… out of breath.” He straightened with a grunt. “Told everypony but Rainbow and Fluttershy. Erin said she’d take care of it for me.”

“You did a great job, Spike,” Twilight said, making sure she had a smile on her face. Spike beamed back at her as her horn lit up. “I’ll carry you to the station, alright?”

Spike nodded, and Twilight lifted him onto her back. There was only one stop to make on the way to the station. About a block away from the library was a small cottage with a tiny but well-kept garden. Twilight made her way through the gate and knocked on the white-painted door.

It was hard to keep her hoof from tapping as she waited on the front step for the pony inside to answer. In fact, she’d just raised her hoof to knock again when an elderly mare opened the door, blinking in the sunlight and scowling at her.

“Let me guess,” the mare said without preamble. “Princess got you running to Canterlot again?”

“Hi, Mrs. Stacks,” Twilight said. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Could you watch the library again while I’m gone?”

Mrs. Stacks sighed and patted her iron-gray mane, which was already arranged in its standard bun. “How long this time?”

“Hard to say. A few days, at least. I’ll send a letter as soon as I know for sure.”

The old mare hmphed at her and scowled. “You know, I thought when I retired as the town librarian, that would mean that I’d actually get to stay away from the library from time to time.”

Twilight’s grin was both apologetic and a little impatient. The train would be coming soon, after all. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Stacks. When I get back, I can look into training somepony else to take over as backup, if you like.”

Worry flashed across the old mare’s eyes, and her frown slackened just a little. “No need, no need,” she said quickly, waving a hoof. “Youngsters these days have no appreciation for books, anyway.” She affected the long-suffering sigh that Twilight was almost positive was at least partially an act. “I’ll do it. You’d best be going. You look fit to burst, with the way your hooves are dancing.”

Twilight’s awkward grin morphed into a pleased smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacks! I’ll send a letter as soon as I know more!”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Mrs. Stacks replied.

“Bye!” Twilight said as her horn started glowing. A flash of magic later, and she had teleported half a block closer to the train station.

“Ugh! Warn a guy when you do that, okay?” Spike complained from his perch on her back.

With all the practicing she’d gotten in recently, it was easy for Twilight to forget how disorienting a teleport could be when you weren’t used to them, especially when somepony else was the one controlling the teleport. “Sorry, Spike. I’m just eager to get to the train, is all.”

“It’s not even going to be here for, what… four minutes? Then they have to board everypony, which takes… um… “

“About twenty minutes for the arrivals to disembark and for the departing ponies to get on board. Another ten minutes to pick up any stragglers, and then they’re leaving.”

“So, we have over thirty minutes before the train leaves. Why so panicky?”

Twilight rolled her eyes as she trotted along. Spike should know better than that. “Because anything could go wrong, Spike. Honestly, if we could have been waiting an hour early, I would have been much happier. Besides, what if they leave early?”

“Then they’d get a strongly-worded letter from a certain purple unicorn regarding the importance of keeping to a schedule?” Spike ventured.

Twilight looked back at him and arched an eyebrow. “Schedules are important, Spike. Besides, my coat is lavender.”

“Eh, looks purple to me,” Spike said before yawning. “I’m gonna close my eyes for a minute. Wake me when we get on the train, okay?”

Twilight chuckled. “Sure, Spike.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful, for which Twilight was grateful. Spike had long since adapted to sleeping through nearly anything while on her back, but if he was startled awake, he had an unfortunate habit of deploying his claws and grabbing onto her coat.

The ticket booth had a small line, which was another reason why Twilight had wanted to get here early. She didn’t mind waiting, ordinarily, but she absolutely despised waiting in a line. With the constant shuffling forward, it was impossible to do something even as simple as read a book while waiting for her turn to buy a ticket.

Fortunately, the line moved quickly. Twilight had just bought her ticket and made her way onto the platform when the train slowed to a stop with a screech of metal on metal. Naturally, this woke Spike with a start, and Twilight grimaced and tensed until the baby dragon relaxed enough to pull his needle-sharp claws out of her skin and fall back asleep.

As the porters began unloading passengers and their baggage, Twilight’s eye was drawn to a large peacock feather bobbing over the crowd. Her eyes followed the feather down, which showed that it was attached to a large, stylish hat. Under the hat was a very familiar face, which was also scanning the crowd.

Rarity met Twilight’s eyes, and both ponies broke into large smiles and began trotting towards each other, Rarity leaving her large pile of luggage behind her to be dealt with by several porters.

“Rarity! What are you doing here?”

The other unicorn snickered at that. “It’s nice to see you, too, Twilight.”

Twilight blushed at that. “Well… yeah, sorry. Nice to see you, Rarity. Are you heading to Canterlot, too?”

“Yes, it’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?” Rarity tossed her head and her elegantly-styled mane bounced and swayed along with the peacock feather in her hat.

Twilight had wondered on more than one occasion what it took for her friend to manage those curls every morning. Rarity, while keen on giving grooming and fashion advice, was strangely reluctant to go into the details of her own beauty routine.

“I’ve been invited, by no less than Fancy Pants himself, to consult on a new line of fashion accessories for ponies heading to Earth.” Rarity’s beaming smile lit up her face as she began hopping in place, the peacock feather bouncing wildly as she did so. “Ooh, it’s just so exciting!”

Twilight blinked, confused. While Rarity consulting on anything fashion-related didn’t seem unusual, the fact that she was being asked for her input on something so specific was a little confusing. Twilight decided to try for some clarification. “Fashion accessories for Earth?”

“Yes, to replace the standard torc that everypony wears now. They’re trying to store magic in everything from earrings to hair clips, tail bows and bracelets. Anything more fashionable and less obtrusive than the torcs which, while lovely, are a bit unwieldy.”

“Oh, I see! And Fancy Pants asked for you, specifically?”

Rarity positively glowed as she nodded. “Oh, yes! It’s wonderful having friends in high places, isn’t it?” Her smile faded slightly. “Oh, but listen to me, going on all this time about me without even asking about you. I understand that the Princess wanted you in Canterlot for a few days?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Twilight replied with a nod. “Didn't Spike mention why?”

“I’m afraid not,” Rarity said with a shake of her head. “The poor dear burst into my boutique while I was in the midst of packing, blurted out his message, and was gone before I could even ask him how his day was.”

Twilight flinched at that, looking guiltily over her shoulder at her assistant, who was still asleep on her back and smiling at whatever dream he was having. The fact that Spike didn't even stay to exchange pleasantries with Rarity, of all ponies, suggested that he’d been in something of a panic trying to follow her instructions.

“Sorry, little guy,” she murmured to the sleeping dragon.

Even though she’d been summoned by Princess Celestia, Twilight determined right then and there that their first stop in Canterlot would be Donut Joe’s donut shop. Spike deserved a treat for all he’d had to put up with today. To go, of course. He could eat on the way to the palace, provided he was careful not to get any crumbs on her coat.

The two of them chatted for a while longer, up until they started boarding the train. Spike woke up on his own at that point, stared at Rarity for a few seconds, then started desperately running his hands over his head to make sure his spines were straight. Twilight giggled, but Rarity politely pretended not to notice.

As the three of them sat together, talking and just enjoying each other’s company, Twilight felt some of the tension she’d been carrying all morning begin to fade. From Spike’s disappearance to the Princess’ letter, she’d been feeling nothing but frazzled and on-edge. But now, with the promise of a swift trip to Canterlot in the company of two good friends, she could finally begin to relax.

Erin got back to her house a little after five in the afternoon. Her second round of grocery buying had netted her such staples as sliced bread, jelly, peanut butter, and assorted fruits. In addition, she’d bought a few boxes of dry pasta and some sauces in jars. Hopefully, boiling some water in a pot wouldn't prove too much of a strain on her culinary skills.

She made her way to the bathroom once again in order to touch up her coat, mane and wings, since she didn't want to make a bad first impression on her neighbor. Well, third impression, if she was getting technical, but this would be her first time in Ditzy’s home, and she wanted to be sure she was at her best.

Then there was nothing to do but wait. Erin unplugged her tablet and broke out her hoof-strap and stylus in order to play a few time-wasting games, mostly involving blowing up floating piles of fruit with slingshot-mounted bombs. She’d never really stopped to consider the logic of that, but it was a fun game.

Her tablet’s timer went off five minutes before she was due at Ditzy’s house for dinner. She packed the tablet away, nabbed the box of pastries off of the counter and set it on her back before walking out of her front door.

From the outside, Ditzy’s house looked much like hers: a small, thatch-roofed house with a second floor that was about half the size of the first. The primary difference was that the siding was painted a light pink, with a bright yellow trim.

Erin knocked gently on the door and then spent a busy few seconds running her hooves over Ditzy’s welcome mat, trying to clear any dirt or debris off before her host opened the door. She was still at it when the door was flung open.

“Hello!” Ditzy said cheerfully.

“Hi!” Erin said as she looked up. Then she froze. One of Ditzy’s eyes was looking right at her, but the other one was looking up and to the left. After a moment of staring, Erin forced a smile, desperately hoping that Ditzy hadn't noticed.

It wasn’t meant to be. The pegasus chuckled and pointed a hoof at her right eye. “Oh, this? Sorry, that happens sometimes when I’m tired or distracted. I should have warned you. Some ponies find it a little unnerving. Hold on, I can fix it.”

Ditzy frowned and blinked a few times in rapid succession. All while Erin was babbling, “Oh, no! No, no, it doesn't bother me!”

“Ah, there we go,” Ditzy said, smiling. She looked at Erin, now with both eyes facing in the right direction. “How’s that?”

“Um. Much better?” Erin’s own eyes widened, then. “Not that it was bad before! I mean—”

Ditzy’s joyful laugh cut her off. “Don’t worry about it. I've had this condition my whole life. It doesn't bother me anymore, as long as ponies don’t tease me about it. Come on in!”

Ditzy stepped aside, and Erin began walking through the door. “Who would tease you about that?” she asked, feeling a little disturbed. Ponies always seemed to be so nice. Mean-spirited teasing seemed… wrong, and out of character.

With a shrug, Ditzy just said, “Foals can be cruel, sometimes. Oh, speaking of foals, Dinky is out playing with some friends. She should be home soon.” She pointed a hoof at the box on Erin’s back. “Are those the pastries? I’ll grab them, if that’s okay.”

Erin nodded, and Ditzy took the box in her teeth before planting it on her own back. Then she trotted off towards the kitchen, which Erin noticed was in the same location as her own.

“Make yourself at home! I’m just going to pull the casserole out of the oven and get the salad ready.”

“Okay!” Erin called before looking around.

Now that she’d gotten a closer look, it was obvious that Ditzy’s house was built with the same floorplan as Erin’s. Which likely meant a bathroom, largish bedroom and living room on the first floor, and a smaller bedroom upstairs with its own half-bathroom.

That was where the similarities ended. Erin’s own home was well-maintained but sparse in its decorating and furnishing, largely due to her having just moved in. Ditzy’s home was well-worn and obviously lived-in.

The living area was arranged so that several ponies could all relax and talk together, dominated by a large, somewhat faded and threadbare red couch facing two smaller, matching chairs with a coffee table in the middle. One smaller, non-matching chair was obviously for Ditzy’s daughter Dinky, considering that the small end-table next to it was loaded with coloring books. Next to the books was a green-painted tin can that held a variety of crayons and colored pencils.

Erin wandered through the living room, noticing the rug that covered most of the sitting area. It was a sky-blue, with patterns of fluffy white clouds. It would have been lovely, if it weren’t for the occasional colorful stain, ranging from deep reds to purples to, for some reason, bright green. Erin assumed the redder stains were probably from juice spills but, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out the bright green one.

The fireplace was almost identical to Erin’s, except for the childlike scrawling and stick-figure ponies on some of the lower bricks. On the mantlepiece were framed photos, mostly showing a lavender unicorn filly with a blond mane mugging at the camera. Erin guessed that this must be Dinky, and also noticed that the filly had a fondness for making silly faces. Out of all the pictures the filly featured in, only three had her smiling normally.

Two of those pictures also had a smiling Ditzy in them, the mother and daughter posing for the camera with Ditzy holding her daughter to her side with a wing. The third featured both Ditzy and Dinky, as well as a third, older mare, which Erin guessed to be Ditzy’s mother, judging by the family resemblance.

There were toys on the floor, Erin noticed, though they were all tucked behind the furniture. Pony ragdolls, balls, blocks and even some jacks, which Erin made sure to steer clear of. She’d stepped on jacks with bare feet before, and she had no intention of repeating the experience with hooves.

There were a lot of blocks, Erin noticed. In the back corner of the room was a carefully-created little town made of wooden blocks in various shapes and sizes, with small wooden pony figures standing in the “streets”. It was rough, and none of the buildings had roofs. Right then, Erin decided to buy a bucket of Legos for the filly, to see if that was something she’d like. It would be something else for Ditzy to avoid stepping on, but if the filly liked building things that much, then Erin was sure she’d appreciate the gift.

Just then, the front door opened. Erin looked up just in time to see the little filly in question walking through the front door. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw who was walking in behind her.

“Mooom!” Dinky called.

“I’m in the kitchen!” came the reply.

“Can I have a friend over for dinner, too? We already checked with her mom and it’s okay.”

“Sure, fine by me as long as you two behave yourselves,” Ditzy called back. “You want to help me set up the table? Your friend can wait in the living room with Erin.”

“Sure!”

Dinky trotted off towards the kitchen. Her guest, a unicorn filly with a golden coat and dark brown mane, looked around uncertainly for a moment before walking into the living room. Erin backed away, trying to get some moisture back into her mouth as her heart began pounding. The movement brought the filly’s light green eyes onto her, which widened in shock.

“Sunflower?” the filly said, the shock plainly evident in her voice.

Erin’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before an involuntary smile started growing.

“Hi, Marigold,” she said weakly.

Chapter 10: Dinner with Ditzy Doo

“Sunflower!” Marigold cried as she launched herself forward.

Erin froze a moment before being hit in the knee by a cannonball of filly cuteness. Marigold clamped on like a limpet, all while a rapid-fire flow of words poured out of her mouth.

“You’re here?! Mommy said you were gone! And you were a hu-mam! And that you went back to Earth!” Wide, liquid eyes gazed up at her, and Erin’s heart started to melt a little. “Are you really a hu-mam? You can change shape? Can you teach me how? Is that why you have a horn? And wings! Why do you have wings? When are you coming back home?”

That last question hit Erin right in the heart, leaving her feeling shaken and vulnerable. She sat down heavily as the strength went out of her hind legs, with Marigold still clinging tenaciously to a foreleg.

A noise from the dining area caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Ditzy and Dinky both in the dining room and looking back at the pair of them. Dinky was staring with her mouth open, while Ditzy just had a small, confused smile on her face.

“I take it that you two have met before?” Ditzy asked, her face crinkling into a grin as she put a large salad bowl on the dining room table.

“Yeah,” Erin said faintly as her brain played catch-up. She noticed that she was absently ruffling Marigold’s mane and drew her hoof back sharply as if she’d touched something hot. “I stayed at the Ponyville Guest House for a few weeks when I first came here.” She smiled awkwardly down at the wide-eyed little filly who was still clamped on to her leg. “I used to babysit Marigold, here.”

The filly in question was frowning, though she didn’t let go of Erin’s leg. She poked Erin in the chest with her stubby horn. “You aren’t answering my questions,” she said with a pout.

In Erin’s heart, a near-frantic desperation was building. Marigold’s mother Meadowlark had said in no uncertain terms that Erin wasn’t to associate with her daughter without her around. As much as Erin wanted to hug the filly, she knew that any contact with Marigold without her mom’s approval could torpedo any chances she had of reconciliation with her first real friend in Ponyville.

Marigold tightened her grip a little, and Erin realized that she’d been unconsciously trying to pull away. Erin hid a grimace. For now, at least, she was stuck. Unless she wanted to forcibly remove the filly from her leg. No matter what Meadowlark might have wanted, that simply wasn’t something Erin was willing to do.

“Well, which one do you want me to answer first?” Erin asked with a weak grin.

The filly’s brow furrowed as she thought about it seriously, a tiny frown etching its way across her features. Finally, she decided on her first question. “Are you really a hu-mam?”

“It’s ‘human’, sweetie,” Erin said, glancing up to see that Ditzy had once again disappeared into the kitchen, though Dinky was still standing there and staring with wide eyes. “And, yes, I am.”

“You look like a pony, though,” Dinky said, earning her a very serious look from Marigold.

“You can talk to her after I’m done asking questions, Dinky,” Marigold said bluntly.

“No fair!” Dinky whined.

Marigold ignored her as she turned her head to look back up at Erin. “Are you coming back home?”

“Uh… Well, if you mean to Ponyville, then yes. If you mean to the Guest House, then no. I have another place in town.”

“Where?”

Erin stopped herself from answering right away. Marigold was just the type of filly to start dropping by without her mom’s approval. She gave it some thought before saying, “I’ll tell you what, maybe I can invite you and your mom over soon, and you can see. Okay?”

That got a rare smile out of the typically-serious filly, who finally let go of Erin’s leg. “Okay!”

“Momma said she lives next door,” Dinky supplied helpfully.

Marigold threw a questioning look her way. “Really?”

“Uhh…” Erin sighed and deflated a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Ditzy’s call of “Dinner’s ready!” cut off any further questions for the moment. Marigold looked at the table, then back at Erin, obviously torn.

“Why don’t you go and have a seat with Dinky, Marigold.” Erin said. “I have to talk to Ditzy for a minute, okay?”

Ditzy raised an eyebrow at that, but allowed Erin to lead her back into the kitchen. In spite of the nauseating worry Erin was feeling, a small part of her couldn’t help but look around with interest and take some notes on how Ditzy’s kitchen was arranged.

The walls of Ditzy’s kitchen were painted a cheery dandelion yellow, with green vines painted along the trim. Pots and pans hung from a rack that was bolted onto the wall across from the oven, which was a more beat up version of the one Erin had in her own home. There was a large spice rack on the counter, a huge green mixer, and various other small appliances and utensils. On one wall was a framed piece of flower-patterned fabric that had the message “Mom’s special ingredient is love!” embroidered into it.

On the doorframe leading to the dining room were a series of marks, the highest of which had “Dinky, age 6” scrawled next to it. A refrigerator coated with Dinky’s school papers and drawings completed the look of a busy but well-tended kitchen.

“So, I take it something is wrong?” Ditzy asked quietly once they were out of range of the filly’s hearing. “And it has to do with Marigold, if I’m any judge.”

Erin grimaced and nodded. “You can say that.” She took a deep breath before just diving in. “Meadowlark was furious when she found out I was a human. Well, that and horrified.”

“Ah. I see.”

Ditzy’s voice was sympathetic enough, but Erin still flinched.

“I talked to her a while back, and she still hadn’t forgiven me for lying.” Erin pawed a hoof at the well-scrubbed tiles of Ditzy’s kitchen floor. “She kind of… well, forbade me from seeing her daughter without her around.”

Ditzy blinked, and her right eye went askew for a couple of seconds before snapping back into alignment. “Why? I mean, we all know humans aren’t really dangerous. Right?”

Erin cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well… there’s good and bad humans, but yeah. We’re kind of like ponies that way. But, for all she knew at the time, I could have been some horrifying brain-eating alien predator.”

Ditzy snorted and covered her muzzle with a hoof, though her shaking wings gave away the chuckles she was trying to smother. She cleared her throat and actually managed to look serious.

“So, Meadowlark doesn’t want you around her daughter because you’re an alien and she doesn’t trust you now?”

“Something like that.” Erin shrugged. “It’s complicated.” She sighed and added, “I really shouldn’t be here. I hate to do this, but I probably need to take a raincheck on dinner.”

Ditzy tilted her head quizzically. “Why? I mean, I’m here. I’ll make sure you don’t go slurping up any filly brains for dessert.”

Erin snickered in spite of herself. “Well, that’s what I brought those pastries over for. To curb any brain-slurping impulses I might have had.”

Ditzy laughed at that, and Erin couldn’t help but join in. They were interrupted by a small, almost scared voice coming from the doorway to the dining room.

“Is everything okay?” Marigold asked as she peeked around the doorframe. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

Erin felt her heart melting once again and opened her mouth to say the hardest thing she could imagine at that moment before Ditzy cut her off.

“Of course she’s staying,” the pegasus said. “We just had to have a little talk before dinner, that’s all.”

Erin looked over at Ditzy with a mix of trepidation and hope. “I don’t know—”

“It’s going to be okay,” Ditzy said quietly in her ear. “I’m pretty sure I can talk some sense into Meadowlark.”

Between Ditzy’s assurances and Marigold’s soulful stare, it was simply too much. Erin sighed and nodded. “I’m staying.”

Marigold offered up another of her rare smiles and did a little shuffling dance with her forehooves. “Yes!”

In spite of Spike’s best efforts to stay awake once the train had started moving, the rhythmic click-clack of the rails had gotten him drowsing less than five minutes out of Ponyville. Soon, he was curled up and fast asleep, snoring away in his typically adorable way, with his right thumb in his mouth and his left hand grabbing ahold of his tail. This left Rarity and Twilight to talk, which was a minor tragedy for the dragon but just fine with Twilight. Rarity had been extremely busy recently, and Twilight had missed having one-on-one time with her fashionable friend.

“So, Twilight, I have something to show you!” Rarity said. Her horn glowed, opening her saddlebags and removing a rectangular pouch of purple velvet that matched her mane and tail. After a quick tug on the drawstrings at the top, the velvet fell away, revealing Rarity’s tablet.

They really were a wonderful looking design, Twilight reflected as she admired the glossy white of Rarity’s tablet, along with the stunning blue diamonds painted on the back. Though, looking at her friend’s tablet reminded Twilight of something she’d forgotten.

“Oh, drat. I forgot my own tablet at the library!”

Rarity made a comforting noise and patted her on the leg. “I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. I’m surprised, though. Usually, you triple-check your bags before leaving on a trip.”

“I re-used an old packing checklist for efficiency's sake,” Twilight groused. “I forgot to put the tablet on it.” Her horn lit up and pulled a small notebook out of her own saddlebag, along with a quill and ink.

“What are you doing?” Rarity asked.

“Writing a note on my to-do list to update all of my old checklists,” Twilight said, a scowl of concentration on her features as she wrote. “There, all done. Hmm….” She tapped the feather of her quill against her chin. “I should probably make that a weekly task.” Another note was scribbled into the notebook, which was left open on the seat for the ink to dry while the quill and inkwell were tucked back into Twilight’s saddlebags.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve gotten that out of the way,” Rarity said with a wry smile. “I am a little disappointed, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well… I was thinking that we could show each other what we’ve discovered with regards to our tablets. Erin can only stretch so far, after all.” Rarity offered a broad smile. “We’ll all need to compare notes in order to truly learn how to use these.”

Twilight nodded with an irritated grunt. “It’s a useful tool, that’s for sure. Who knows how we’ll end up using it?”

“Well…” Rarity cleared her throat and leaned forward with her eyes gleaming. “Would you like to see what I’ve discovered so far?”

“Sure!”

Twilight watched with interest as Rarity first pressed a hoof on the power button in the corner, causing the screen to glow. Then she cleared her throat delicately.

“Oh, François, darling, could you wake up, please?”

Twilight’s momentary confusion was washed away when the tablet answered in a heavily-accented voice that was both husky and smooth at the same time, while also being extremely masculine.

“Oui, Mademoiselle Rarity,” the tablet crooned. “How may I assist you?”

Rarity giggled delightedly. “Oh, isn’t he lovely?”

Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly, hoping that the electric tingle that had raced down her spine at the sound of the tablet’s voice hadn’t been too obvious. “I, uh… I don’t recall hearing that voice in the selection.”

“Hmm…” Rarity pressed a hoof under her chin while she considered. “I believe it was ‘Romantic French Accent, male’.”

“Oh. I avoided that one because I thought it would be in French, which is the human version of Prench, neither of which I speak.” Twilight muttered.

She didn’t mention that the thought of reviewing a voice with a description of “Romantic” had sounded far far too silly the previous day. Then again, Erin did say that she could change the voices, if she wanted. Though, it would probably be pretty awkward if she used the same voice on her own tablet. “So, what did you find out? I spent all of my time looking at the books that Erin had put on mine.”

That caused another pang of regret at leaving her tablet behind. The books it contained had all been fascinating, and she’d planned on reading one or two of them on the train ride both to and from Canterlot.

Rarity’s laugh was like the tinkling of bells. “Of course you did, Twilight. However, I found something that I believe may be quite useful in my line of work. François, dear, could you open the drawing application?”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” came the deep, silky voice. “I would be most pleased to do so.”

Rarity tapped on the screen a few times with the stylus that she had suspended in her magic. “As it turns out, this lovely application allows me to sketch quite freely. Ah, here we are!”

Rarity turned the tablet, and Twilight saw an absolutely gorgeous dress sketched out and colored in, though the colors looked flat and artificial.

“Ooh, that’s amazing!” Twilight said as she leaned forward to get a better look.

“And, apparently, I can ‘save’ each drawing before moving on to the next. Why, I could carry all of my designs with me all the time!”

Twilight smiled at Rarity, who seemed positively giddy at the thought. “That’s wonderful! Though, you may want to be careful. If you had all of your designs on there and then lost or damaged… er… François, then you could lose it all at once.”

Rarity’s head drew back and her ears flattened. “Oh, my goodness! Perish the thought. That would be dreadful!”

“Maybe Erin can help with that?” Twilight suggested. “I remember her saying something about being able to print things out from the tablets. I bet she could make you paper copies of anything you draw on there!”

“Do you really think so?” Rarity’s ears lifted and she smiled. “Oh, I’ll have to be sure to ask her as soon as I return to Ponyville.”

Rarity happily showed Twilight a few more designs she’d come up with, as well as how she applied color to the drawing itself. There were many options with the application that Rarity either hadn’t noticed or simply chose not to experiment with yet, Twilight noted. It made sense, though. Nopony would just pick up something so complex and be able to do everything they wanted on it all at once. It would take time to get familiar with it.

After that, the tablet went back into its pouch and into Rarity’s saddlebag. The two friends passed the time in idle chit-chat until the train pulled into Canterlot. Twilight put her saddlebags back on, levitated the still-sleeping Spike onto her back, and exited the train with Rarity at her side.

“Poor Spike,” Rarity said as the stood on the platform. “He must be all worn out.”

“That’s what he gets for trying to stay up all night watching movies.” Twilight nudged him in the shoulder with her nose. “Wake up, sleepy-head. We’re here.”

Spike came awake slowly and looked around with bleary confusion before a shock of understanding washed over his face. “Oh, no! I slept through the whole train ride?”

“That you did, Spike.” Rarity reached out a hoof and ruffled his spines. “You were adorable!”

Spike blushed crimson and looked away, muttering something that Twilight couldn’t quite understand.

“Are you going to be all right here on your own, Rarity?” Twilight glanced at a nearby clock. “I’d offer to stay, but—”

“But the Princess awaits.” Rarity flashed a brilliant smile. “I know, darling. You look like you’re about to fly apart at the seams.” She waved a hoof in a shooing motion, though her smile never wavered. “Go on, I’ll be fine. I’ll hire a porter and a cab and be in my hotel within an hour, at most.”

Twilight sagged slightly with relief. “Thanks, Rarity. I really do have to get going.”

“I won’t keep you, then,” Rarity said as she drew Twilight into a hug. “Please give the Princesses my regards, would you?”

“Of course! I’ll stop by your hotel after I find out what the Princess wants, alright?”

Rarity broke the hug and smiled once again. “I look forward to it, dear. Farewell!”

“Later, Rarity!”

Twilight waved, and Spike mumbled a farewell of his own while waving from her back. They hadn’t even reached the gateway that led out to the street before Spike spoke up.

“Maybe I could stay with Rarity and give her a hand?” Spike ventured. “I mean, I doubt you’ll need me with Princess Celestia, and Rarity has all that luggage…”

“Twenty seconds,” Twilight said. It was a new record for him. Usually, he tried to come up with an excuse to stick with Rarity much sooner. Either he was learning restraint, or he was still a little groggy from his nap. Twilight was betting on the latter.

“What?”

“Never mind. Anyway, if you help out Rarity, then you won’t be able to go to Donut Joe’s with me.”

That got the little guy’s attention. Spike sat up straight on her back with a gasp. “We’re going to Donut Joe? Really?”

“Yup!”

“Why?”

Twilight looked back at him with a single raised eyebrow, and he held up his hands defensively.

“Not that I’m saying we shouldn’t!” he said frantically. “It’s just… a little out of the blue, you know?”

“It’s a reward for all your hard work,” Twilight said. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I am really proud of you, Spike.”

Spikes face lit up like a beacon. “Gosh... Thanks, Twilight!”

“You bet, Spike.”

They trotted along for a few seconds before a cautious voice drifted from Spike’s general direction.

“So… does this mean that I get my tablet back, now?”

Twilight laughed. “Don’t push it, buddy.”

“Aww…”

The meeting with Dr. Maggie Henson hadn’t been as comfortable as Mikel had hoped it would be. The stout older scientist had welcomed him with aloof politeness and then almost immediately offered to take him to his lab. In spite of his longer stride, he had to step quickly to keep up with Dr. Henson as she led him through the seemingly endless maze of the Harmonics compound. He pulled the sample of Black Tide along behind him in its trunk, which, he decided, was a large factor as to why it was hard for him to keep up.

“So, why here, Doctor Rost?” Dr. Maggie Henson asked after a minute or two of walking. She slowed down slightly, allowing him to catch up and speak more easily.

“Well, mostly for the view and the lovely mountain air.”

Dr. Henson favored him with a frosty scowl which indicated that, just perhaps, flippancy wasn’t the best course of action. He cleared his throat and attempted to inject some humility into his voice. “Coming here wasn’t my first choice. But I need Doctor Edwards. His work with cybernetics is leagues ahead of anyone else’s.”

Dr. Henson’s scowl twisted sourly as she nodded. “And Tom isn’t the type to want to leave the lab he’s spent the last year building from scratch.” An obvious effort of will on Maggie’s part smoothed her features over. “I’m just a little worried, is all.”

Mikel held a hand before him in a placating gesture. “Look, I understand the squeamishness when it comes to studying it, but you have to understand. There’s literally tons of Tide material left in the Scar, and we still know so little about it. Heck, they just uncovered an intact chunk of it the size of two Olympic-sized swimming pools!”

Maggie snorted at that. “I wasn’t aware that we’d adopted ‘Olympic swimming pool’ as a standard unit of measurement.”

Now it was Mikel who had a frown on his face. “You know what I mean, Dr. Henson.”

“I do. And, for what it’s worth, I agree.” Maggie sighed and ran a hand through her greying hair. “Though, most of those studying it are content to remain near the Scar itself. That’s not why I’m worried. I’m just worried that you’re doing it here, of all places.”

“What’s wrong with here?” Mikel asked. “State of the art facilities, a good distance away from populated areas, independent power sources… Top minds in genetics, engineering, cybernetics and nanotechnology call this facility home.”

“Not to mention Harmonics, Ascent, and the Cybernetics unit. You know what those are, Doctor? Eggs in a basket.” Maggie sighed again. “We’ve got too many of them here. And now we have your little project in the mix, as well. We’re a single good disaster from losing years of scientific advancement, not to mention our contact with the Equestrians.”

“I thought the backup site in Scotland was ready? We shouldn’t have to worry about losing contact with Equestria any time soon.”

“The Kinnoull Hill site is still a few weeks away from completion,” Maggie replied shortly. “So, what is it that you’re doing differently?”

“Everyone else is studying the chemical or structural makeup of the thing, but I have a different direction I want to go,” Mikel said as he unconsciously leaned towards her enthusiastically. “The Tide looks a little bit like brain tissue. The most common hypothesis as to why is that it was a gigantic semi-organic computer. Computers hold data. If I can interface with it somehow, I might be able to read that data.” His eyes gleamed as he smiled. “Imagine what we could learn! Not in the least where the damned thing came from.”

Dr. Henson shook her head. “This seems incredibly unwise, but Bob is the boss, and he said to give you what you need. Just consider yourself lucky that he was able to scavenge some Tide-specific lab equipment from another site, or there’s no way we would have gotten your lab set up by now.”

The corridor ended abruptly in a secured door. Maggie waved her badge over the card-reader and pushed it open, revealing daylight and fresh air. Mikel followed uncertainly, dragging the trunk over the short, patchy grass.

“Uh, where are we going?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“There,” Maggie said, pointing.

The windowless building looked to be about forty feet long on each side and was made of heavy grey cinder block. The low, flat roof and plain design made the whole thing look squat and ugly. To top it all off, it was only about twenty feet away from the huge concrete wall that surrounded the entire Harmonics compound.

“That’s going to be my lab?” Mikel asked flatly, unable to keep the disdain out of his voice at the sight of it.

“You got it. We were originally building it as a storage area. Just got done with the exterior about three weeks ago, actually.” Maggie jerked a thumb over to the left of the building, indicating a bulldozer, a backhoe, a front-loader and several Bobcat tractors scattered about in the large open area between the building and the perimeter wall that surrounded the whole compound. “Even with most of the lab equipment pre-built off-site, we barely got this done in time.”

Dr. Henson took out a key and unlocked the steel door. She then held out the key to Mikel, who took it with the same enthusiasm he would have had if it had been a dead fish.

“I’ve got to say, I was expecting better than this, Doctor Henson,” Mikel said as he pocketed the key. “I was expecting to be in a lab that was at least connected to the rest of the compound!”

“Too dangerous,” Maggie said dismissively as she ran her hand along the wall. “Besides, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Ah, there we go.”

She flicked the lights on, flooding the interior of the building with a bright light. The interior was covered with soft white wall panels, similar to the beige panels of the main Harmonics compound. If the lab followed the same standards as the rest of the facility, then the panels were removable, to allow easy access to wiring, plumbing and ventilation.

Immediately after the doorway was a small ramp that led up to a raised floor of pristine white panels. The drop ceiling above had still more panels, which seemed to almost glow softly in the fluorescent lights.

“I feel like I just walked into Aperture Labs,” Mikel said wryly. When Dr. Henson treated him to a blank look, he added, “The Portal games? Uh… they had a lot of panels,” he finished lamely.

Maggie grunted and walked forward up the short ramp. Mikel followed, dragging his trunk behind him.

“That’s where you’ll be storing your sample at all times,” Maggie said, pointing.

Mikel looked, letting out an involuntary whistle. A cube, about eight feet on each side and made primarily of what looked like thick glass, dominated the center of the room. The top of it was sided in steel that extended up into the drop ceiling. The glass bottom of the cage rested not on a raised floor, but on still more steel.

On each wall of the cube there were controls that linked up to robotic arms that were retracted up against the roof. A pedestal holding a large plexiglass bowl stood in the center of the cube, looking just about the right size to hold his sample of the Tide. The pedestal was surrounded by a larger, barrel-looking device.

After he’d gotten his fill of looking at the cube, he glanced around the rest of the lab with quiet satisfaction. Along the wall to his left were large lockers, and desks with glowing computer screens already fired up. To his right was a utility sink, two emergency safety showers, and other equipment that Mikel couldn’t be bothered to take in right away.

“We had to hurry to build this, and containment was our top priority. So, if you need any further equipment, let us know,” Dr. Henson said. “The lab is yours to do with as you please, with the exception of the safety protocols. You will not violate these protocols, do you understand?” Dr. Henson fixed him with a glare that immediately put Mikel’s back up.

He swallowed back his initial reply. Instead, he nodded. “I got it.”

“Here’s a quick rundown of the most important points: One, the Tide sample will stay on the pedestal,” Maggie said, confirming his suspicions. “You can use the control panels to lower it into the containment system at any time. That barrel contains liquid nitrogen. Whenever you’re not actively working on the Tide, you’re required to keep it frozen.”

That rankled a bit, but it wasn’t anything Mikel hadn’t expected. “Understood.”

“You see those cameras in the corners of the lab?”

He hadn’t. He’d been too focused on the containment cage. “I do now,” he said.

“There will be a security guard monitoring the lab at all times,” Maggie said. His outrage must have shown, because she held up a hand to forestall whatever it was he was going to say. “Non-negotiable, Doctor. If you somehow manage to reactivate this sample, you may be compromised too quickly to hit the alarms.”

Mikel’s voice was tight and angry. “This sample doesn’t have any nanomachines on it. It’s been checked.”

“Really,” she said flatly. “You’ve checked the entire twenty pounds of it for microscopic machines, and you’re one-hundred percent sure you didn’t miss a single one?”

The sardonic tone of voice didn’t do anything to calm him down. “The Tide’s nanomachines relied on a signal to activate them,” he said. “The damned Equestrian princesses themselves even said so. That signal has stopped.”

Maggie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “And if it starts again?”

“Unlikely. But we’d have plenty of time to get it back into the nitrogen, I’m sure,” Mikel said stiffly.

“I’m glad you’re confident. But I’m more concerned with the sample attacking you directly.”

“What do you mean? It’s a blob of semi-organic brain-like tissue. No musculature.”

Dr. Henson’s eyes narrowed and her mouth set into a firm line. “First of all, I don’t usually explain myself like this. Consider it a gift to the newbie. Second, you didn’t see what it did to Princess Celestia.” Dr. Henson shuddered. “I did. The Tide has been shown to have some sort of abilities that some might call ‘psychic’. If you somehow manage to activate this thing and it does something to affect your mind, it could render you helpless before you can do anything to stop it.”

“I think you’re greatly overestimating its abilities,” he said.

Maggie stared at him for a long moment. “Are we going to have a disagreement here, Doctor Rost? Because I’m more than happy to shut all this down and send you packing.”

Mikel knew he only had one trump card, but at least it was a doozie. “Robert Thomson—”

“He’s the one who told me to set up the security as I see fit,” Maggie interrupted. “If I tell him you’re not playing ball and had to shut you down, he’ll back me.”

Apparently, his trump card wasn’t quite the doozie he’d thought it was. He stared at Dr. Henson for a few moments. If she was bluffing, she had the best poker face he’d ever seen. He held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I understand.” He offered what he hoped was a sincere smile and added, “I’m not used to working in situations like this, is all.”

Dr. Henson grunted. “If you hated that, you’re really going to hate this next bit.”

Mikel braced himself, struggling with his temper. Making peace was important, he reminded himself. Once he was established, he could push at the boundaries. For now, he needed to at least have Dr. Henson’s tolerance, if he couldn’t manage her outright approval. “And what’s that?”

“Every person who goes into or out of this lab is going to be subject to a mandatory weekly CAT scan and check-up. To discount any chance of mental manipulation from the Tide.”

“Are you serious?”

“Again, not negotiable. I’m taking no chances, Doctor, remember?”

He exchanged a somewhat heated glare with her for a few seconds before dropping his gaze. “Anything else?” he asked, hating the sullen tone to his voice.

“A couple of things. One, see those nozzles in the ceiling of the cage?”

Mikel looked, spotting several devices that looked like larger-than-average fire suppression sprinklers, though they were made of acrylic rather than metal.

“Yes?”

“In the event of any kind of containment breach, enough hydrochloric acid to fill the cage is going to be dumped down from the ceiling in a matter of seconds. That can be triggered here in the lab, or remotely from the security office.”

“So, what you’re saying is that my work is going to be at the mercy of a security guard, who may or may not have an itchy trigger finger?”

If Mikel’s outraged sarcasm had any impact, Dr. Henson’s face didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded.

“That’s not all. Check the corners.”

Mikel did so, noting for the first time that large metal and plastic pylons were attached at each corner of the lab. “What are those?”

Dr. Henson’s face didn’t have any trace of humor as she locked her eyes on his. “Harmonics emitters,” she said, her tone deadly serious. “In the event of a full breach, if the acid doesn’t do its work, they will be triggered before the Tide can compromise the entire facility.”

“Harmonics…” Mikel felt a little weak in the legs as the realization hit him. “Where do they go? Not Equestria, I’m assuming.”

Doctor Henson shook her head. “In the case of a full breach, security will trigger the emitters, which are hardwired to rip open a gateway to the world we call ‘Hades’. This entire lab will be dumped there, and then the gateway closed. You’ll want to be out of the lab before that happens. That world is extremely active, volcanically. The atmosphere is incredibly toxic, with heavy concentrations of sulfuric acid. If the Tide doesn’t kill you, then Hades will, and it won’t be pleasant.”

Mikel took in Dr. Henson’s expression. She was somber but determined, resolve etched in every line of her face. In a flash of insight, Mikel realized that she would hate herself for the rest of her life if anyone were still in the lab when she ordered the emitters to be triggered, and that still wouldn’t make her hesitate for even a second.

A cold fear froze his chest. This entire lab was a deathtrap. It was also his best chance to tap whatever information was held in the Tide. A fierce battle between ambition and fear warred within him for a few seconds before he smiled cheerfully.

“Well, then. I’d better hope I’m right, and that this sample is as harmless as I think it is.”

He doubted that the falsely chipper tone in his voice fooled Maggie for one second. Still, she smiled back.

“I certainly hope so too,” she said, holding out a hand. “Welcome aboard, Doctor Rost.”

He only hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking her hand. She would kill him in an instant, if the situation demanded it. It was absurd enough for him to laugh.

“Glad to be here, Doctor Henson.”

“Thank you,” Twilight Sparkle said to the guard as they let her and Spike into Celestia’s private study.

The guard nodded, keeping a stoic expression on his face that remained until Spike passed a donut over to him. He blinked and took it in his magic out of reflex.

“Enjoy, dude,” Spike said before taking another donut out of the box for himself.

The doors closed behind them as the baffled guard considered his chocolate donut. Twilight smiled and rolled her eyes at Spike’s antics. He’d been pretty happy the whole way to the palace, though he’d likely ruined his appetite by now.

Princess Celestia was seated on several dark red cushions piled up on the floor. She
glanced up from her desk as they came in and broke into a warm smile as soon as she saw them.

“Twilight, Spike! So good of you to come.” Princess Celestia stood and embraced Twilight with a wing.

“Of course, Princess,” Twilight said as she leaned into Celestia’s coat. Twilight was never sure if Celestia wore perfume, but the scent of her was familiar and comforting, like sun-warmed grass and wildflowers on a summer’s day.

Celestia broke the embrace and indicated a low table in the center of her study, which already contained a teapot and several glasses, as well as a plate of scones and cookies. “Please, relax and help yourselves.”

“Oooh,” Spike said as he hopped off of her back. Twilight’s magic snagged him just before he grabbed a cookie. “Aww…”

“Hold on, there, greedy guts,” Twilight said. “You had a bunch of donuts on the way over, remember?”

“Only four, Twilight!”

“That’s still enough sweets!” Twilight scolded. “You’re going to be sick!”

Celestia chuckled, reminding Twilight that she was supposed to be here talking to the Princess. Blushing, she removed her saddlebags and put them down near the table, in order to have easy access to them if needed. The box of donuts went next to them. She sat, and Spike sat next to her, grumbling.

“How was the trip out?” Princess Celestia asked as she sat down.

“It was nice. I forgot to bring my tablet, though.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow as she poured some tea into her cup. “Tablet?”

“Oh! Yes! Erin bought a tablet for me,” Twilight said. “For our other friends, too.”

“Including me!” Spike added with a big grin.

Celestia chuckled softly. “Human technology is spreading, I see. I’m afraid I haven’t used mine very much.”

“But you can do so many things with it!” Twilight said eagerly. “Like, read books! And there’s a calculator, and you can draw with it.”

“And movies!” Spike added.

“Movies, too,” Twilight acknowledged. “And you can keep books on it!”

“You said that already,” Spike noted.

Twilight blushed. “Well, it’s important.”

Celestia smiled. “Hmm. Perhaps I should take another look at mine. Still, that’s not why I’ve asked you here, Twilight.”

This was it. Twilight put her teacup down on the table and braced herself, making herself ready for whatever it was the Princess needed. “Why did you ask me here, Princess?”

Celestia looked away, a tiny smile curling the corners of her mouth. Twilight followed her gaze and saw that she was looking in the direction of her private apartments, which were attached to this study by large oak doors.

“I’ve been ruling over Equestria for well over a thousand years. I know that most ponies believe that I can do practically anything.” Celestia turned her head and met Twilight’s eyes, still smiling that gentle smile. “The truth is, though, that I’m still only one mare. I have a limited amount of time, and no amount of experience or magical power can change that. If I am to spend the proper amount of time caring for Prince Verdant, I’ve got to make some difficult choices. And, after careful consideration, what I’ve decided is that I should turn over the majority of my duties to Princess Luna.”

The last statement seemed to stop time itself. Spike was frozen in the act of stealing a cookie off of the tray. Twilight, herself, was stuck in place like a fly in amber. She began to feel light-headed, which confused her until she realized that she was holding her breath.

“You… You’re retiring?” Twilight asked. The room seemed to vibrate around her as one of the very pillars of Equestria shook. “That can’t be right.” She let out a high-pitched laugh. “I must have heard you wrong!” Celestia just looked at her with kindness etched on every feature. “Or, it’s a joke. It’s a joke, right? I mean, I can’t remember you ever playing a joke on me before, but it’s possible. So, you’re playing a joke on me, because you wouldn’t ever step down and stop being a princess, because you’re Princess Celestia, and you can’t just stop being that. It’s absurd. So, it must be a joke. Right?” Twilight’s desperate grin melted in the face of Celestia’s compassionate expression. The world around her shook again. “It’s not a joke…”

“Breathe, Twilight,” Spike said urgently next to her. “You’ve got to breathe.”

Twilight looked down and saw his concerned face staring up at her. She also noticed that she was holding her tail in her lap and was petting it anxiously, which she forced herself to stop doing.

“I’m not retiring, Twilight,” Celestia said softly. “Yes, I’m turning over most of my responsibilities to Luna, but only for a few years. The time will fly by, I’m certain.”

Twilight latched onto the statement of “only a few years” like a drowning mare with a life preserver. “How many years?”

“I think five will do, though that may change if circumstances do.” Celestia leaned forward, looking at her intently. “So, Twilight, I now come to the favor I must ask you.”

“Anything, Princess,” Twilight blurted instantly. Though, she knew that was a conditioned response. Pure reflex, without engaging her higher functions, necessitated by the fact that those higher functions were currently engaged with whirling and reeling like a ship in a storm. She felt like somepony had disabled gravity, and she wasn’t able to find purchase.

She looked into Celestia’s eyes and immediately started feeling calmer. Whatever else changed, Celestia was there. Celestia was an anchor. No matter what changed in the world, she could always count on the Princess. Twilight cleared her throat and stated with certainty, “Whatever you need from me, Princess Celestia, I’ll do it.” Her mind raced ahead, making a list of the things that the Princess might need of her. “Do you need administrative help? Organizational skills? Perhaps you’ll need somepony to look up relevant laws or help draft new ones?”

Celestia chuckled and shook her head, sending waves cascading down her flowing mane. “None of those things, Twilight. We have a considerable number of highly competent staff in place already. In fact, Luna will be getting several of my own staff, including two of my personal secretaries, to help her. No, I have have something much more important for you to do.”

Twilight nodded and managed to sit up even straighter, somehow. “What is it?”

“Luna will have all the advisors she needs. All the clerks, guards, servants, everything required to help her run the country. She’ll even have me as her primary advisor. However, there’s one thing that she’ll need that not even I can give her.” Celestia reached across the table and placed her hoof on Twilight’s. “She needs a friend.”

“A friend?” Twilight asked, blinking.

Celestia nodded. “You got to know Luna last Nightmare Night, didn’t you?” When Twilight nodded hurriedly, Celestia continued. “I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that! Luna has never been good at meeting new ponies, and returning after a thousand-year absence hasn’t made it any easier for her.”

The Princess gave her an earnest look. “She needs somepony who will give her a sympathetic ear whenever she needs it, who will give advice and listen to her problems. I can do that to a degree, but I’m still her big sister. Some of the problems she faces may very well come from me. Can I ask you to be her friend?”

Twilight stared, confused, at Celestia’s heartfelt expression. “No,” she said. Spike gasped next to her, and she hurried to add, “Because friendship doesn’t work that way, I mean. I’ll be her friend because I already am, not because you ask me to.”

Celestia blinked, and Twilight felt the world wobble once again when she realized that she’d somehow managed to surprise the Princess. A smile rose like a sunrise across Celestia’s features.

“Thank you, Twilight,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

The bow had been too much. Twilight blushed and looked away, mumbling, “Don’t mention it.” She drew a circle on the table with her hoof and stared blankly at her tea for a few seconds. A question rose, and she asked it as soon as she thought it. “What brought this on, anyway? It seems sudden. Is it really just Prince Verdant?”

When Celestia didn’t answer right away, Twilight looked back up to see her mentor staring at the ceiling, her teacup still suspended by her side in a golden aura.

“Not just Verdant, no,” the Princess replied eventually. “This will be good for Luna, as well. She needs some time in the spotlight in order to shine. And… Well, this feels a little silly to admit, but I’ve been thinking about my legacy, recently.”

Twilight tilted her head, confused. “Legacy? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Perhaps I’m getting old,” Celestia said softly. “Or, perhaps it’s just because I’ve made myself responsible for the raising of a colt. I’ve started thinking about the things I may leave behind.”

The fear and confusion from earlier raised its head. Twilight shivered and asked, “Leave behind? I thought it was only for five years. Give or take.”

Celestia didn’t answer her right away, instead gazing down towards the table. A few seconds passed, enough for Twilight to start feeling fidgety. Right before she broke the silence to repeat her question, Celestia spoke again.

“Have you ever heard of Queen Sapphire the Vile?”

Twilight blinked, her thoughts completely derailed by the question. She wracked her memory, trying to come up with a match for the name. After some deep thought, she shook her head. “No, Princess. I can’t say I have.”

“Not surprising,” Celestia said with a short laugh. “A thoroughly unpleasant pony, as you can likely gather from the epithet.”

“Why would she pick that?” Spike asked. “Seems like a good way to give a pony a bad opinion of her.”

“She didn’t pick it, Spike,” Celestia replied. “Her subjects did, not long after her death. It’s those that survive you who will decide how you’re remembered.” Celestia shook her head gently. “No, during her reign she was called ‘Queen Sapphire the Magnificent’, or ‘the Righteous’, or even ‘the Beautiful’.” Celestia frowned and added, “And probably a few others I’m forgetting. But after she died, it was ‘the Vile’ that was remembered until history apparently forgot her name entirely.”

“Why was she called that?” Twilight asked as her horn glowed. A scroll floated out, along with her inkwell and quill. Celestia nodded approvingly as Twilight prepared to write down the story as accurately as she could manage.

“Long ago,” the Princess began, “the three pony races joined themselves into one Equestria. This… was not universally popular. Queen Sapphire was a descendant of the old unicorn kings and queens, a great-granddaughter to King Diamond. Her grandmother, Princess Platinum, had betrayed her lineage, or at least that’s what young Sapphire and her supporters believed. She left the newly-born Equestria with a number of unicorns who felt the same way. They gathered up as many pegasus and earth pony loyalists as they could. Though, there were some rumors that not all of those pegasi and earth ponies went willingly.”

“That’s horrible!”

Celestia nodded. “Yes, Twilight. But I’m afraid the young Queen was just getting started. She and her followers founded a kingdom of their own and named it Corinica. Unicorns ruled absolutely, as they believed they should. Pegasi and earth ponies were treated harshly. At best, as servants. At worst… Well, the rumors were bad.

“She developed a technique, you see. A way to punish those who were disloyal or disobedient, which the Queen considered the most heinous of crimes. It was a process that they called the Separation. They would take the offending pony, and they would forcefully remove them from the magical field.”

Twilight gasped. Celestia nodded, her expression somber.

“Indeed. She stripped those poor ponies of their magic. Their cutie marks would fade, and they would become dull and listless. Many didn’t survive their first month. Those that did were treated little better than animals, used for hard labor. They called these poor ponies ‘the Fateless’.

“The unicorn elites weren’t spared, for all their power and position. The Queen grew increasingly paranoid as she grew older, and began to see plots and conspiracies everywhere. Due to her harsh methods, those conspiracies soon became a reality. She was assassinated in her own bedchamber by a coalition of unicorn nobles, each of whom had lost someone dear to them to the Separation. They’d been pushed too far, you see.

“And that is how Queen Sapphire the Magnificent became known as Queen Sapphire the Vile. A name well-earned, perhaps.” Celestia smiled, and the room seemed to brighten as the shadows cast by her story fled. “When your friend Erin stopped by a few days ago, she reminded me of the story once again.”

“She did?” Twilight asked, feeling a little stunned by the statement.

“The first hint I had of Erin’s existence was when Professor Glimmer came to me a while ago and mentioned that you were writing a story about a mare who wasn’t part of the magical field.” Celestia said, either not noticing or ignoring Twilight’s flinch when reminded of the lie she’d told. “I was afraid that somepony had somehow discovered the means to create more Fateless. Imagine my relief when I discovered that it was only a disguised pony from another world looking for a new home for several billion people!”

Celestia laughed, and Twilight joined in weakly.

“Perhaps that’s why I’ve been thinking about it,” Celestia said before taking another sip of her tea. “I’ve been thinking about what I’ll leave behind, should I ever stop being ‘Princess’ Celestia. Verdant will be a part of that, I think. As will a stable, thriving nation, I hope. But still, I wonder… what will the ponies think of me, should I ever step down? What byname will they attach to me?”

“‘The Radiant’,” Twilight said instantly, blushing when she realized she’d said it out loud.

Celestia stared at her for a moment before breaking into soft laughter. “Thank you, Twilight, but I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” She sighed and set her cup down on the table. “Just the musings of an old mare, perhaps. In any case… enough of old, dead queens and such unpleasantness. Tell me, Twilight, how has life been in Ponyville recently?”

Twilight smiled, feeling some tension ebb. She’d discovered what Princess Celestia’s big secret project was, and it was something she was planning to do anyway. And all the talk of her stepping back from the throne… well, that would take some getting used to, but it wasn’t the end of the world. She put her scroll aside, though after she made a note to ask about whatever happened to the Kingdom of Corinica.

“Well, first,” she said, “let me tell you about the name Pinkie Pie came up with for her tablet…”

“So, what do you think?”

Erin didn’t answer right away, concentrating on chewing and swallowing first. The casserole was sweet and tangy and savory all at once, with a mix of crunchy and smooth textures. It wasn’t something you’d find in a fancy restaurant or anything. It had that undefinable something that identified it as something a Mom cooked. She looked up to see Ditzy’s smile, though the pegasus had an undercurrent of worry around the eyes. Erin smiled back.

“It’s delicious,” she said, and Ditzy relaxed visibly.

“‘Course it is,” Dinky piped up. “Momma’s the best cook in Ponyville.”

“No, my mom is,” Marigold replied in her matter-of-fact voice.

“Nuh-uh!”

“She is, though. Tell her, Sunflower.”

Erin froze in a panic as two sets of intense filly eyes locked onto her. Fortunately, her mouth was full of more casserole, so she didn’t have to answer right away. Ditzy laughed and came to her rescue.

“Now, now, it’s not fair to put her on the spot like that.” She reached over and ruffled Marigold’s mane. “Dinky thinks my cooking is the best because she grew up with it, just like you grew up with your mom’s, right?”

Marigold’s eyes narrowed. “My mom is the best cook, though.”

“Opinions can’t be right or wrong, Marigold,” Erin said. “You think your mom’s cooking is the best, Dinky thinks her mom’s is the best, and you’re both right.”

“Well, whose do you think is the best?” Marigold asked, her eyes a little heated.

“The best cook ever?” Erin asked. Marigold nodded. “Hmm… That’s easy: My mom.”

The answer didn’t seem to please Marigold, but both Dinky and Ditzy started laughing. Marigold looked a little put off for a while before the corner of her mouth tilted up slightly. She shoveled more carrot casserole into her mouth to hide the smile.

The dinner carried on without much conflict after that. The two fillies dominated the conversation, mostly by asking Erin question after question about what it was like to be a human. When she told them about skyscrapers and jet airplanes, their faces went from intrigued to skeptical.

“Are you just messin’ with us?” Dinky asked.

“Nope!” Erin grinned and speared a cherry tomato out of her salad with a fork that she’d secured to her hoof with a thick rubber band. “We have all sorts of really cool stuff. Haven’t you seen the big TV screen in the library?”

“Yeah! That’s really cool!” Dinky said.

Marigold nodded somberly and added, “Sometimes Miss Buttercup will take a class there and we’ll watch a movie.”

“Miss Buttercup. Is that your kindergarten teacher?” Erin asked.

“Yeah,” Marigold said with a nod. Her face scrunched up. “The movies are usually about animals. I don’t care about animals! Not if you have metal tubes with wings that can fly.”

“Yeah! I want to see stuff like that!” Dinky said, standing on her chair with her forehooves on the table.

“Dinky, manners!” Ditzy scolded lightly.

The filly blushed and sat back down, the perfect picture of politeness. For all of about two seconds, and then she was grinning and bouncing in her seat. “So, ya think we can get documentaries on cool stuff? Or see some regular movies, sometime?”

“There are tons of movies with the entertainment center I gave to Twilight,” Erin said. “You haven’t seen any of them?”

“No!” Marigold huffed, crossing her legs across her chest. “Miss Buttercup says only educational stuff.” She snorted.

“And the screen thing in the library looks so much cooler than the one in the movie theater!” Dinky said, still bouncing.

An idea took root in Erin’s mind. “I’ll have to see what I can do about that.”

The fillies seemed satisfied with that, and the rest of dinner passed in idle chit-chat, mostly filly-driven talk of school and art and playground shenanigans. When the dinner plates were cleared away, Ditzy came out with the box containing the last of Erin’s Sugarcube Corner treats. If the fillies noticed that the treats were a little stale, they certainly didn’t complain about it.

Ditzy had just refused Erin’s second offer to help wash the dishes when a sharp knocking sounded at the front door. Ditzy excused herself to answer it, which allowed Erin to sneak into the kitchen and start stealth-washing some dirty plates in her sink. Marigold sat in the kitchen doorway, watching her with curious eyes.

“Why don’t you use magic?” she asked. “You’ve got a horn.”

“I haven’t learned how to use it, yet,” Erin admitted. She was standing on only her rear hooves, using her front hooves to try and clean the dishes in the hot, soapy water. It was clumsy and awkward work for her.

“Hmm…I’m still learning, too.”

“You can probably use more magic than I can, kiddo.” Erin looked back over to shoot the filly a grin, which froze on her face at the sight of the expressionless mare that stood behind her.

“Marigold, get your things,” Meadowlark said coldly. “We’re going home.”

Marigold had jumped halfway out of her skin at the unexpected sound of her mother’s voice. Now she was sitting there with a trembling pout as she looked up at her mother.

“But—”

“No. Get your things. We’re leaving.” She shot an icy glare at Erin. “I thought I told you to stay away from her.”

Erin’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds. Meadowlark wordlessly scooped Marigold up with her magic, ignoring the squawk of protest from her daughter, and deposited her on her back.

“Why should she stay away from me, mom?” Marigold asked.

Meadowlark didn’t answer her, instead turning and walking away. As Meadowlark got further away, Marigold’s whining got more and more distant, until it was finally cut off by a slamming door.

Erin’s head spun, and the strength seemed to leave her all at once. She slumped against the kitchen sink, staring at the floor as tears burned at her eyes.

She tried to plan. She tried to think of something she could say or do that would make things alright again, but all she could think of was that she’d blown it. She didn’t know if Meadowlark would ever forgive her, which not only meant that she might not ever be friends with her again, not to mention that she wouldn’t be allowed to see Marigold.

When Ditzy cleared her throat, Erin shook herself and realized that she’d been staring at nothing for the last minute or two. She blinked her eyes and rubbed her leg across her eyes before looking up to see a shame-faced Ditzy standing in front of her.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Ditzy said sheepishly.

Erin let out a pained chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, it really could have.” She glanced up to see Dinky peeking around the doorframe. The filly’s head jerked back the moment she realized she’d been spotted, which turned Erin’s laugh a little more genuine.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Ditzy said. “I didn’t realize that she was that mad…”

“Not your fault,” Erin said, shaking her head. She pushed away from the kitchen counter and dropped back to all four hooves. “I’m the one who was supposed to stay away from Marigold.”

Ditzy snorted, sounding a little angry. “That filly adores you. Meadowlark isn’t doing her any favors.”

Erin grunted noncommittally.

“Gotta be disappointing, though,” Ditzy said thoughtfully.

“What?”

“All that work being nice, and you didn’t even get to slurp up one single filly brain!”

Erin gaped at Ditzy, who was wearing a big, cheesy grin.

A tiny voice came from around the corner, tinged with horrified, eager fascination. “You eat filly brains?” Dinky asked.

Erin started laughing along with Ditzy as most of the tension fled the room. In the aftermath, Ditzy relented and allowed Erin to help with washing the dishes, which turned into a three-pony affair. Erin scrubbed off the food, Ditzy rinsed, and Dinky’s little face scrunched up in concentration as she used the cloth in her hooves to dry them.

When Erin finally went home an hour later, it wasn’t as bad of a mood as she had been in immediately after Meadowlark’s departure. Still, as she lay on her couch and stared off into the shadows, she wasn’t able to get Meadowlark’s coldly furious face out of her mind. It seemed pretty likely that she might have made any kind of reconciliation impossible.

Erin sighed and tried to make herself comfortable. It was a long time before she managed to fall asleep.

Chapter 11: Flying lessons

”Magic is all around us. It exists in air, in water, and in the ground itself. Magic is simply everywhere!”

Or, at least, that’s what page one of “Beginner’s Magic Exercises” had told her. With Twilight away at Canterlot, and with her wings still not working, Erin decided to do a little self-study and hope that she could get started using magic on her own.

The book was easy to understand, at least. Though, she opted not to follow the book’s suggestion of making sure a parent or teacher was present before trying to gather energy.

According to the book, Erin had to “think... but don’t think too hard!” about her horn “filling up” with magic. If done right, the book told her, then her horn should start feeling tingly after a while. “Like a leg that needs stretching,” had been the way it was described.

So far, after an hour of lying on her couch while staring at nothing in particular and trying to both relax and concentrate at the same time, the only thing she felt was an encroaching headache.

It didn’t help Erin’s mood that a long and restless night had led to her giving up on sleep before the sun was even up. Then her run had been even slower and more painful than it had been the day before, leading to her staggering into her house once again with every muscle on fire.

And now, here she was just before noon, unable to even manage a foals’ horn illumination spell. It was beyond frustrating, to say the least. Not even the successful manufacture of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast had turned her mood around for long, as it had only served to remind her that she still couldn’t use basic unicorn magic.

Erin sighed and pushed herself off of her couch, which, after the last few nights of her sleeping on it, was now in severe need of pony-hair removal. She was just debating what to do with the rest of her day when a sharp pounding came from her front door.

Erin froze, surprise fading into nervousness. Whoever it was knocking sounded impatient, or possibly angry. She approached the door slowly, worried that it might be Meadowlark come to bite her head off for the previous night.

It was a huge relief to hear Rainbow Dash’s voice through the front door. “Hey, Erin, you in there?”

Erin popped the door open, a grin already on her face. “Hey, Rainbow! Good mor… er… what’s that?”

Rainbow Dash grinned and held up what looked like some sort of harness, along with straps, buckles and some padding. “What’s it look like?”

“Uh…” Erin tried desperately to come up with something to head off her first guess and failed utterly. “Some sort of pony bondage gear?” she ventured.

Rainbow’s grin vanished as her mouth dropped open in shock. “No! What? No! Why would… This is an assistance harness!” She shook the thing furiously at Erin’s face. “Why would you even think I’d have something like that?”

Erin started giggling. “Sorry, sorry. I still have no idea what that is, though.”

Dash was starting to recover, though her face was still redder than normal. “It’s a harness designed for one pegasus to help another out with flying. You know, if they’re injured or whatever, to help get them back in the air faster.”

It took a few seconds for those words to sink in. Erin took in a deep breath and said, with a very thin veneer of calm overlaying a rising torrent of excitement, “Do you mean you’re going to take me flying, Rainbow Dash?”

“Well… I figured, just because your wings don’t work so hot, that doesn’t mean we can’t start on the basics. I know you’ve got pegasus magic, or you couldn’t have walked on clouds, so that’s where we can— Agh!”

Erin launched herself into Rainbow’s chest, sweeping her up in a huge hug. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Eh-heheh, yeah,” Dash said, pushing awkwardly with her forehooves to try and pry Erin off of her. “Don’t mention it, okay?”

After finally allowing Rainbow to free herself, Erin grinned and said, “When do we start?”

Rainbow grinned back. “Does right now work for you?”

Erin gaped at her. “Are you kidding? You’re not kidding!” She squealed and did a little jump. “Yes, now works for me!”

“Cool, let’s go!”

Erin, radiating excited giggles, followed Rainbow out the front door.

You could tell a lot about what an office was like just by listening when you walk into it. This particular office, the Administrative Wing of the Earth Diplomatic Corps, was mostly silent except for the rustling of papers, the click-clack of typewriters, and the distant murmuring conversations between the ponies working there. The conversations were quick, efficient and, above all, quiet. It was an office that was dedicated to Very Serious Business, and the ponies that worked there treated it as such.

Rose Quartz looked around her desk, feeling a little lost. Piles of paperwork were stacked up in a tray marked “In”, which was next to a woefully empty “Out” tray. The pencil-holder, a brightly painted clay cylinder, was filled with quills and pencils. Other items on her desk included an inkwell, pencil sharpener, stapler and a variety of stamps resting on covered ink pads.

A typewriter sat on its own small stand to her left. Behind her was a filing cabinet, which she’d checked briefly just a moment earlier. It was filled with folders, each of which was full to bursting with papers.

The chair was comfortable, at least. Rose reclined and stretched, trying to work out some kinks in her upper back, after which it was back to staring at the top of her desk while trying to connect what it was she was supposed to do with her day.

“Rosie!”

The mare that had said her name was a slightly heavy-set earth pony with a brown coat and a light green mane. She was trotting up with sparkling eyes and a huge smile. “Welcome back from your vacation! Do anything fun?”

“Hey, uh, Mintie.” Rose shook her head. “Nothing much, really. Sat around reading, mostly.”

“Whoah, you kicked out all the stops!” Mintie reared up on her hind legs and stuck her elbows on the edge of Rose’s desk, cradling her chin on top of her hooves. “I thought you were going to travel out of town or something? Seriously, you’re so boring without me around.”

Rose offered a small and apologetic smile. It seemed the right thing to do at that moment. Some of the ponies around the pair of them looked up from their work with disapproving frowns, and Rose found herself desperately hoping that Mintie would tone her energy down a little bit.

“So, guess what?”

Rose blinked. “Uh. What?”

Mintie waggled her eyebrows. “Come on, you’ve gotta guess!”

“We get to go back to the human world,” Rose said.

Mintie just gaped at her.

“Uh, the Director stopped by and mentioned it this morning. We’re leaving when the next gate opens up in a month.”

“Well, dang.” Mintie scowled. “I was hoping to surprise you. Ah, oh well!” The mare shrugged and chuckled. “I can still surprise you with this much, though. Keep it hush-hush, but apparently we’re going back on a weekly schedule with the gateway.”

Rose blinked. “Really? Well, that’s… that’s good news. So, we’re leaving this weekend?”

“Yeah… Huh.” Mintie’s brows lowered a little. “I expected you to be more excited! Didn’t you enjoy your last trip to Earth?”

Rose blinked before smiling. “You know I did. I just… well, I wanted to plan things out a bit more, this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, more meeting important humans and seeing important sites and less… well, less shopping and goofing around, honestly.”

Mintie snorted. “You sick or something? I thought you loved shopping. You sure didn’t complain while we were over there the first time!”

“I know,” Rose Quartz shrugged. “I just thought… well, it may be a good idea to take things more seriously this time.”

“Well, I suppose, if it bugs you that much.” Mintie shrugged. “We can still do some shopping, right?”

Rose considered that for a while before relenting with a nod and a small smile. “As long as it isn’t excessive. I’d like to see human commerce in action again.”

Mintie chuckled. “‘Commerce in action’ is a nice way to put it! So, lunch?”

Rose stared blankly for a moment. “What about it? Oh! Uh, no thanks. Not really hungry at the moment. I think I’ll stay here and try to get back into the swing of things. You know, vacation and all.”

Mintie’s face scrunched up into an expression that Rose recognized as concern. “I was just kidding before, but I have to ask... you didn’t get sick when you were on vacation, did you?”

Rose smiled. “No, I’m just fine. Maybe a little tired, that’s all. First it was the diplomatic trip to Earth, then my vacation. It’s hard to come back to work after a week off, you know?”

“I get that. Never as long as you want it to be, right?”

Rose was about to answer when a booming male voice spared her the need to. The Director was marching down the aisle, his horn glowing with a voice-amplification spell.

“Alright, everypony! We get a small break today. Princess Celestia is addressing everypony Grade Eighteen and above in the big auditorium in half an hour. Pack up what you’re working on and assemble out front!”

Rose and Mintie watched as the stallion trotted away, repeating his message as he went.

“What do you think that’s about?” Rose asked.

“What do you think?” Mintie asked. When Rose just stared at her blankly, the mare scoffed and said, “The schedule change for the Earth gateway, duh.”

“Oh. Makes sense.” Rose hopped out of her chair and smiled at the taller mare. “Shall we get going?”

“Sounds good!”

Mintie kept up a cheerful monologue while the pair of them walked out of the office. Rose only listened with half an ear as she chewed her bottom lip. Things were moving a bit faster than she’d expected. She thought she’d have more time to research and plan the next trip out. After all, she had better things to do than go shopping while on Earth.

Still, Rose decided, that was something she could worry about later. For now, she slipped on a smile and trotted off after the chattering Mintie, while idly wondering if the gateway was the only thing Celestia was going to be talking about.

The murmur of voices in the Grand Hall was getting steadily louder as the clock ticked closer and closer to the time for the announcement. The two Royal Sisters were standing side by side behind a red velvet curtain, waiting until the hall filled to capacity.

Luna shifted her weight from one forehoof to another while muttering something under her breath. Celestia looked over to see her younger sister staring blankly at the bottom of the curtain with a scowl on her face and her ears flat against her skull. When Celestia brushed a wing across her back, Luna jumped slightly and reared her head back.

“Are you alright, Luna?”

“I am fine,” Luna said, her voice clipped. She looked back and forth before sighing. “I am not certain that this is wise,” she said quietly. “The ponies do not respect me as they do you. There may be… trouble.”

Celestia arched an eyebrow. “What kind of trouble could there possibly be?”

“There shall certainly be a clamor over this announcement. Perhaps even an uproar.” Luna’s eyes widened. “What if they react poorly? What if… what if the announcement leads to unrest which leads in turn to a riot? They may swarm the stage and murder me!”

Celestia snorted. “Nopony is going to murder you, Luna, I promise that.”

Luna looked away with a sullen pout. “Later tonight, when Canterlot is burning and the unruly mobs rampage through the streets, I shall try to avoid saying ‘I told you so’.”

“I thought you were planning on being murdered?” Celestia said, chuckling at the annoyed look that Luna shot at her. “Everything will be fine, Luna. I’ll stand with you the whole way.”

“Ponies don’t like change, sister,” Luna pointed out. “And you must admit, this is a fairly large change.”

“It is. But, given time, I just know the ponies will come to love you just as deeply as I do.”

Celestia was glad to see that her statement had managed to bring out a small, if strained, smile onto Luna’s face. That smile vanished when one of the Royal staff stepped up and cleared his throat.

“Princesses? They are ready for you.”

“Thank you, Clear Thought. We’ll be right out.” Celestia turned to Luna to offer some last-minute encouragement, only to hesitate when she saw her sister staring at her. “What?”

“You knew that stallion’s name,” Luna said, her voice faint.

“Yes?”

“You know everypony’s name.” Luna’s eyes widened and her wings flared slightly. “I do not! I don’t know anypony’s names! They are not going to like me! They shall think me… rude! Or arrogant!” She brought a hoof up to cover her mouth as she gasped. “Or both!”

“Luna, you’re panicking,” Celestia said flatly. “Stop it.”

“We are not panicking!” Luna very nearly shouted. “Our reaction is perfectly normal in these circumstances!”

“You’ve slipped back into the royal ‘we’,” Celestia pointed out. She sighed and stepped forward, bringing her sister into a firm hug with one ivory wing. “I will be with you every step of the way. I promise.”

“Even when the ponies decide to defeather, tar, and re-feather me?”

“I’d never allow it. Besides, they would have to do that to me, first,” Celestia assured her.

“I’m going to be awful, I just know it.”

“Nonsense. You know what you’re going to say, right?” Celestia nodded at the stack of note cards sitting on a nearby table. “You have all of the notes that you and Twilight worked out last night, don’t you?”

“Yes. Twilight Sparkle was very kind to assist me with my speech. She helped me considerably with modern vernacular.” Luna frowned uncertainly at the towering stack of cards. “I am just uncertain about the current length.”

“Well, make sure to bring them with you,” Celestia said, hugging her sister once again. “Come along, now. Our subjects await.”

Luna took a deep breath, released it, and nodded. “Very well, then.”

On stage, Clear Thought was announcing them. It was time to go. Together, the two sisters walked out onto the stage in order to address their subjects.

La Balle de Foin was one of Twilight’s favorite restaurants in Canterlot, and its reputation was impressive enough for Rarity to squeal in delight when Twilight had stopped by to invite her to lunch. After a short walk, and a much longer wait for a clean table, the two friends found themselves sitting at a small table outside of the restaurant, enjoying both the breeze and the shade provided by the white parasol that blocked the early afternoon sun.

Rarity had barely been seated before she said, “Tell me all about it! What happened?”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably on her seat, a thick cushion set on top of the grass. “Well, Celestia talked first. She said some things about how happy she is to be our Princess, and how much joy it gives her every day to see us healthy and happy. And then she told them about Verdant.”

“Oooh!” Rarity leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “I bet the audience just loved that!”

“The existence of yet another alicorn?” Twilight snorted. “Yeah, that caused a few waves.”

“I can only imagine,” Rarity said. “Did they seem upset, or just curious?”

“Mostly curious. They asked if he came from the human world, like Erin, and Celestia said no, that he was from Equestria, but that she wasn’t currently at liberty to say what his origins were.” Twilight shrugged and rolled her eyes. “A few of the press started shouting questions, like if he were her baby, or Luna’s, or Cadance’s. Which is just silly. Cadance is still pregnant with my niece!”

Rarity looked surprised at that. “Oh, it’s a girl?”

“Cadance thinks so. Shiny wants a boy, though.” Twilight waved a hoof and shook her head. “That’s nothing to the reaction she got when she said she was turning the government over to Luna. I’ve never heard a gasp so loud!”

If she were to be honest, Twilight had been pleased with that reaction. It showed that she wasn’t unique in being completely blindsided by the idea of Princess Celestia becoming less active in government.

“I can only imagine,” Rarity said. “I was simply shocked when you told me last night!”

“Yeah. But I think I’ve come to grips with it.” Twilight grimaced and looked at her menu, not willing to look her friend in the eye after saying something that was disturbingly close to a lie. “You should try the panais avec sauce au beurre, Rarity. I think you would like it.”

“Hmm…” Rarity glanced at her own menu with a contemplative frown. “I need to take off a pound or two, so I was thinking of a nice, simple salad.”

“You’re dieting?” Twilight looked her friend over. “You look fine, you don’t need to lose weight.”

“Perhaps,” Rarity said with a dainty sniff. “However, being surrounded by fashion models all day yesterday gave my self-image a good thrashing.”

“Rarity, you look as good as any of them.”

She meant it sincerely, and Rarity laughed and patted her hoof, but Twilight wasn’t sure if the other unicorn truly accepted what she said or not.

The waiter came out, then, to take their drink order. Twilight asked for an apple juice, while Rarity requested a sparkling mineral water with lime. The waiter left them with a basket of fresh, warm rolls, which got Twilight’s stomach rumbling. She quickly nabbed one of the rolls in her magic, split it, and spread a little butter on it.

Rarity, who had spared a longing look at the basket, turned back to Twilight. “And what happened after that?”

“There were tons of questions, of course,” Twilight said after swallowing her first bite of her roll. “Celestia let them run their course, then calmly told them that more information would be forthcoming, but that this wasn’t a question and answer session.”

“Oh, my. I bet they didn’t like that!”

“Well, she put it more diplomatically than I did,” Twilight said with a shrug. “Anyway, she said a few more comforting things, which did manage to calm everypony down, and then she turned it over to Luna.”

Twilight tore what was left of her roll in half and popped one half into her mouth.

“And what happened then?” Rarity asked. She giggled when Twilight rolled her eyes at her. “Sorry, of course you can wait until you finish chewing, I’m just eager to hear it all!”

“Well, I told you that I was going to help Luna with her speech, right?” After Rarity nodded, Twilight continued. “Well, I spent half the night with her, writing everything up on index cards. And then she didn’t even use them!”

“Darling, you’re pouting,” Rarity chided.

“I am not pouting,” Twilight said in her most rational tone of voice, which for some reason got a smirk out of Rarity. “I just don’t know why I put all that effort into a comprehensive speech if she’s not even going to use the cards!”

“Did you ask her about it after the audience?” Rarity asked, still holding onto her smirk.

“I did. She said it would have taken too long, and she just wanted to get it over with.” Twilight grabbed another roll from the basket and tore it into pieces before slathering butter on the mangled remains. “Glad I spent all that time helping her.”

“How long would the speech have been?” Rarity asked, her eyes following the floating bits of bread roll as Twilight ate one after another.

Twilight held up a hoof and took a sip of water before answering. “About half an hour, if she got through it smoothly.” She scowled at the table. “It would have answered so many questions the reporters had if she’d just stuck to the speech.”

“Well, she’s a princess,” Rarity said in what Twilight felt was an insufferably reasonable tone. “They’re known for doing things their own way.”

Twilight was about to answer when they were interrupted again as the waiter brought out their drinks, then efficiently and politely took their order before disappearing once again.

And, whatever Rarity had said, Twilight wasn’t pouting.

“Now you’re sulking,” Rarity said once the waiter was out of earshot.

“No, I’m not!” Twilight cleared her throat, blushing as half of the restaurant looked her way. “I’m just a little upset, is all.”

She glared at her friend, then noticed that Rarity was still wistfully eying the bread basket on the table between them. With a smug grin, she picked up another roll, spread some butter on it, and then levitated it back and forth across the table. Rarity’s eyes followed it the whole way, causing Twilight to laugh for the first time since the Princess’ audience.

“Rarity, you’re obviously hungry. Just take a roll. You’ll feel better, and maybe be a little less snippy.”

“But my diet…” She cut off when Twilight levitated the roll over towards her. “Oh, you are such a bad influence, Twilight Sparkle,” she said, chuckling as her magic took the roll.

Rarity barely managed to maintain her ladylike air as she tore into the roll, though the groan of pure delight almost pushed her over the line. Twilight smiled and picked up the thread of her story once again.

“Luna did the rest of the announcements. We’ll be opening the gate to Earth weekly, starting this weekend. I mean, we were planning on opening it this weekend anyway, since we have the cultural exchange students coming over, but now we’ll tell the humans that they can open it every weekend.”

“That’s wonderful!” Rarity said, helping herself to the last roll in the basket. Twilight watched it go mournfully.

“She also announced the creation of the Dreamguard. Or, the re-creation, I guess.” Twilight grinned as her eyes sparkled. “A whole new school of magic! And she’ll teach me the spells first!”

“You mentioned that last night. But what does the Dreamguard actually do?”

“Their primary duty consists of casting and maintaining a dreamward spell. In the event of the ward failing, they cast a spell to go into a trance, enter the Dreamrealm, and stop whatever creature is causing trouble.”

Rarity shivered. “Are there really creatures that attack us while we’re dreaming? That doesn’t seem very fair!”

“According to Luna, they’re very rare. Plus, ponies have natural defenses. But they can cause nasty nightmares.” Twilight smiled. “Sort of like fighting off a flu and getting a fever, I suppose.”

“Still, that’s very disturbing.”

The waiter showed up then with a tray held in his telekinetic grip. He set their food on the table and left a moment later, promising refills on their drinks in a little while. Twilight quickly dug into her meal of pasta parmesan, and a side salad with vinaigrette dressing and little cherry tomatoes. She also made a mental note to check her breath after eating the garlic bread that came with it. After a few seconds of eating, she realized Rarity wasn’t joining in, instead staring morosely at her dressing-free salad.

“You sure you don’t want anything else, Rarity?” Twilight asked. She lifted up the small plate that held her bread. “You can have this, if you want. I’m gonna be stuffed if I try to eat everything I ordered.”

“Thank you, darling, but no.” Rarity sighed and lifted a forkful of lettuce to her mouth. “The things I do for fabulosity.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. For Twilight, it was time to gather her thoughts and try to sort out her feelings. There was something about the audience earlier that day that had bothered her, but she just couldn’t put her hoof on it.

“So, was there anything else?” Rarity asked suddenly, dispelling the silence.

“A little bit,” Twilight said. “She also reiterated that Erin is not a real alicorn, since I guess there’s been a lot of speculation in the news about it.”

“Now, see, that confuses me,” Rarity said. “I had always thought that an alicorn was simply a pony who had all three types of pony magic. Is that not the case?”

“Well, not exactly.” Twilight sat up straighter, her ears perking up as she remembered the conversation she’d had with Celestia the previous day where she’d asked a similar question. “Erin’s magic is compartmentalized. It’s like each magic type is separate, distinct.”

“And the Princesses aren’t like that?” Rarity asked.

Twilight shook her head. “No. The three types of magic actually combine into one magic. That allows for greater flexibility in its use. Not to mention, each type of magic enhances the other two, which greatly increases an alicorn’s raw abilities.”

“I never knew that! That would explain why Celestia and Luna are so much stronger than average ponies, I suppose.”

“You got it. But that’s not all. You know how a pony’s magic will oftentimes line up with their special talent?”

“Like mine with gems, I imagine,” Rarity said with a nod. “I know that location spells like that would be much too difficult for me, ordinarily.”

“That’s right. Your special talent gives you a boost in that regard.” Twilight smiled, enjoying having such an attentive listener. “But, for alicorns, the effect is much, much greater. Then there are additional talents. Like Luna’s dreamwalking, for example. Anypony with the right skills can enter the Dreamrealm, but only Luna can actually enter a pony’s dream if she wants to. That’s a skill unique to her. Even a very powerful unicorn wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“I wonder what Celestia’s alicorn talent is?” Rarity asked while drinking her sparkling water.

“Well, I asked her about it, and it seems like she has a few.” Twilight tapped a hoof on her chin as she recalled the previous night’s conversation. “She can manipulate light, control any open flames, and can control gravity in a highly localized area. And, like Luna, she has a gift for limited foresight.”

“Well, that’s very impressive!” Rarity smiled as she skewered a cucumber on her fork. “Not unexpected for our Princess, though.” The smile fell away. “What did you mean by foresight?”

Twilight smiled. She spent the next few minutes describing how some ponies in history had been able to see the future, at least to an extent. She listed some of the most famous, from Eagle Eye the griffon, to Shademist, to Clearsight the Seer. The book that she’d used to predict the return of Nightmare Moon had been a collection of visions called Predictions and Prophecies, containing prophecies from many different sources.

As the meal went on and Rarity poked morosely at her salad, Twilight happily continued to expound on the differences between limited and unlimited foresight.

“Limited tends to be far more accurate, but only focuses on events in the next few months. Unlimited means that the events could be taking place in the far distant future.” She took another bite of her pasta before continuing after a hasty swallow. “Also, the unlimited variety tends to be frustratingly vague. Most times, there’s no way of knowing for certain what it means until after the events have happened.”

“That’s fascinating, Twilight,” Rarity said with a smile. Though, her eyes seemed a little glassy.

“Are you alright, Rarity?”

“Quite alright, dear.” She blinked a few times and smiled again. “Not to change the subject, but I’m wondering how you are holding up.”

“Me?” Twilight sat back on her cushion, frowning. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know Princess Celestia better than most anyone. She’s been your teacher for years. I have to imagine that this little semi-retirement of hers must be…” Rarity twirled her fork in the air for a moment while she hunted for the right word to use. “...upsetting, to you.”

“What? Pfft, no.” Twilight waved a hoof dismissively. “No, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Everything’s just peachy. I mean, it’s just a little time off of work, and I’m sure Celestia’s earned a little vacation after all these centuries, right? I mean, just because she’s taken this time to spend with Verdant, it doesn’t mean that she’s any less my teacher.” Twilight laughed, shifting uncomfortably on her cushion. “I mean, sure, she’s going to be spending less time with me, because Verdant will have to come first. And, granted, she never took time off of being a Princess to spend time with me, but I’m not a little foal, right? I mean, I was a foal way back then, but I wasn’t an infant, so it’s different, right? It’s not like I have any reason to… to be jealous...”

Twilight’s voice ran down as the words she was saying filtered back into her head. Rarity was sitting calmly across from her with a sympathetic look on her face.

“Oh my goodness, I’m jealous of a little foal.” Twilight groaned and lowered her head to the table. “I’m a terrible pony.”

“Twilight!” Rarity said sharply, causing Twilight to raise her head in surprise. “You are not a terrible pony. Trust me on this.”

“But I’m jealous of Verdant…”

“True. But your feelings don’t make you good or bad. How you act upon them does.” Rarity smiled. “And you’ve been supportive of Celestia’s decision, even though it means you now have to share her as a teacher. I think that speaks volumes for your character, darling.”

Twilight smiled wanly back. “Thanks, Rarity.”

“Please, don’t mention it.” Rarity said loftily. “I do have one last question, however.”

“Okay?”

Rarity pushed aside her half-empty salad bowl. “Are you going to finish your garlic bread?”

Twilight laughed and lifted the plate with the bread over to her friend.

Rainbow set a quick pace. Erin, already a little worn out from her morning workout, grimaced and clenched her teeth, determined to keep up with her pegasus friend, who was trotting along and chattering away, without even a shortness of breath to show she was exercising. Erin, struggling not to pant, thought ruefully about how much she’d lost in becoming a pseudo-alicorn. Hopefully, once she fully realized her earth pony magic, she’d get her speed and endurance back.

The pair of them ended up trotting out to a hilltop a few miles away from Ponyville. They were surrounded by high, untamed grasses and wildflowers, with the occasional batch of bushes scattered here and there. There wasn’t a pony in sight, though there were plenty of birds flitting around. Erin watched them fly, eager for her own chance.

Getting the harness on had been an exercise in awkwardness. There was no way for Rainbow to fit the thing on her without intruding into some very personal space. The harness was a one-size-fits-all kind of thing, with the straps and buckles designed to be adjusted to whatever length needed to fit snugly—but not too tightly—on any pegasus.

Rainbow was the one who did most of the work, all while explaining how pegasus flight worked. During her instruction, she would occasionally ask Erin to lift or move a leg, followed by her tightening or loosening one of the many straps hung around Erin’s body. Three times, Rainbow had to duck under her belly to take a strap in her teeth to adjust it, which inevitably caused Erin to burst out giggling every time something brushed across her belly.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish there before today, Erin,” Rainbow said after the latest bout of giggles.

“I didn’t either,” Erin replied airily. “New body, you know?”

Rainbow shuddered. “Ugh, don’t remind me. It’s pretty freaky. But, hey, at least you have wings, now!” She reached out and gave Erin a little shove with her hoof. “That’s the most important thing, right?”

“Right!”

Rainbow grinned, and then studied her hoofwork closely. “Hmm… Looks good. How does it feel? Stretch those legs out and tell me if anything pinches.”

Erin did so, and even walked in a lazy circle just to be sure. “Feels good.”

“Great! We’re just about ready. So, you think you can manage to do what I asked you?”

Erin scowled at that. “I don’t know, Rainbow. That explanation didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.”

“What’s so hard? All pegasi learn this stuff.” She shrugged. “It’s just basic atmospheric alteration, though nopony calls it that outside of flight school.”

“Rainbow, you said that pegasus magic can make the air seem thicker on the wings, but without altering either the wings or the air. That’s not possible.”

Dash rolled her eyes. “I do it every day, Erin. It’s not like even my wings are big and strong enough to support my weight on their own. And it’s not just the wings, though that’s a big part.” She looked up into the sky and gestured with a hoof. “A pegasus can also make the air in front of them act like it’s thinner, cutting down wind resistance, and the air beneath them seem denser, helping with buoyancy.” She smirked. “And, if you’re really talented, like me, you can make the air seem denser behind you, pushing you ahead. You know, like if you’re doing a sonic rainboom?”

“Yeah, but…” Erin shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense! You say you can change the way things interact without actually changing anything! How… Physics doesn’t work that way!”

Rainbow casually flexed her wings and grinned. “Magic, I guess.” She snickered at Erin’s frustrated expression. “Look, it’s just like the cloud, right? You didn’t actually change it, and you didn’t change yourself, but you were able to climb up on top of it. It’s the same thing!”

Erin shot her a cynical look. “Really?”

“Yeah! Well, sort of. That was ‘tensing’, making clouds seem thicker. What you’re going to be doing now is ‘thinning’. Look, don’t worry too much about it. For now, all I want you to do is imagine that the air in front of you isn’t holding you back when we fly, okay?”

“But—”

“You don’t need to understand it, just do it!” Rainbow snorted and stomped a hoof. “Get to thinning, girl!”

Erin opened her mouth to protest before stopping herself. Rainbow was going to take her flying, and she was going to complain about it?

“Alright,” Erin said, feeling a grin stretch across her face. “Let’s do this!”

“That’s more like it! Now, just give me a minute to hook up the harness, okay?”

Rainbow quickly shrugged herself into her own harness, managing to get into it in roughly half the time that it took for Erin to get into hers. Then she attached some straps between the various rings set into each of their harnesses. Flapping her wings, Rainbow hovered over Erin, slowly descending until each of her hooves were almost touching her back while shortening the straps with sharp tugs of her teeth.

“You ready?” Rainbow asked.

Erin, who had spent the last few minutes in steadily rising anticipation, was practically dancing in place on the hilltop. “Yes!”

Rainbow was managing to hover above Erin, keeping place with lazy, slow wing beats that drove what felt like perfectly normal air downwards. Whatever it was that the pegasus was doing to the air, it didn’t feel any different to Erin.

“Okay, when I tell you to, start running forward, and jump when I tell you. Don’t worry about me keeping up, just go. Got it?”

“I got it!”

“Okay,” Rainbow said. “Get ready… set… Start running!”

Erin took off, running full-tilt towards the side of the hill, which cut off sharply. Panic started welling up as the edge got closer, and every instinct she had was telling her to slow down, to stop. She ignored them and, when Rainbow shouted “Jump!” Erin leapt, laughing with the sheer joy of it as the ground dropped away underneath her hooves.

Rainbow grunted above her as the straps between them tightened. The ground below sped by faster and faster, and Erin let out a wild whoop of complete joy.

“You okay down there?” Rainbow’s voice rasped down at her.

Erin could only answer with excited giggles as her legs instinctively kept running on air. She was too distracted to even notice that her wings had spread open a few inches when the air hit them.

“How about you start thinning the air, like I told you?” Rainbow called down. “I’m not doing this just for the exercise!”

“Okay!”

Erin did her best, imagining the air in front of her as not being a barrier, trying to cut down wind resistance. She folded her legs up underneath her and stretched her head out, trying to make herself feel more aerodynamic.

Almost immediately, the air around her seemed to change. The wind still moved just as fast, but the impact of it didn’t feel as strong, as if something were blocking most of it from actually touching her. Erin shook her head and grinned widely. Understanding could wait. For now, this was just too cool!

“You’re doing great!” Dash called down from above and slightly in front of her. “Keep it just like that! We’re going to have a little fun.”

“What fu—aaaaah, Rainbow!”

Dash pulled up sharply, wings beating as she shot into the air like a rocket. With the pegasus going up nearly vertically, this had the unfortunate side-effect of the back of Erin’s head pressing into Rainbow’s belly, just under the ribcage. Erin’s concentration shattered, and suddenly the air was pressing against her full force once again.

The ground was dropping farther and farther away as the wind roared in her ears, and suddenly flying seemed like a lot less fun and a lot more terrifying. Rainbow finally leveled out, and Erin dropped away from her, dangling helplessly in the tethers of the harness.

Erin had no way of knowing how fast they were moving. Her eyes were shut tight against the sting of the wind, which streamed over her coat and pulled at her mane and tail. Her ears were folded down to protect them against the constant roar of it.

Eventually, Erin was able to lever her eyes open, blinking away the tears that instantly sprung up. Her breath caught in her throat. The sky was empty for as far as she could see, with the exception of some distant clouds. The wind was a constant torrent, much stronger up here than it had been closer to the ground. Erin’s mane and tail were streaming and fluttering behind her wildly, with the occasional wisp of mane getting in her eyeline before whipping back again. The wind also tugged on her wings, which she vaguely noticed were slightly open, pushing on her feathers and making them bind closer together, sealing the air away from the skin underneath.

“Take a look at this!” Rainbow’s shout was barely heard over the rushing air. “All of this around you. This is what it means to be a pegasus! The sky is yours!”

If Rainbow was waiting for a response, she would be disappointed. Erin was far too busy drinking in the sight of the ground slowly moving far beneath them. She’d seen this sight before, or one very much like it. But seeing the video recovered from the first exploratory drones was completely different from seeing the same thing with her own eyes.

Fields and hills as far as the eye could see stretched out in every direction, the grasslands around Ponyville mottled with color and broken by wide stretches of plowed land, the farms budding with green from the new growth of spring. Then there were the deeper textures of the Everfree forest, stretching away like a rippling ocean of leaves as far as she could see.

The only roads from Ponyville were made of dirt, stretching away from the town in vaguely wandering lines so unlike the straight, black-topped roads Erin was used to seeing on Earth. The roads branched away constantly, becoming narrower as they led to the farms that surrounded the little town. The railway, currently without a train, glimmered like a silver needle across the land, straighter than the roads, pointing towards Canterlot one one side of Ponyville and towards Manehattan on the other.

The air even smelled different up here. Cleaner and less humid, with a chill crispness that invigorated her and stung the back of her sinuses if she breathed too quickly.

I could get used to this, Erin thought.

“You okay down there?” Rainbow asked, lowering her head to look down between her own forelegs.

Dash’s concerned, upside-down face would have caused Erin to start giggling in any other situation. Instead, she nodded slowly with a huge grin spreading across her face.

“Well, get back to thinning out that wind,” Rainbow shouted. “This isn’t as easy as I’m making it look!”

That finally broke Erin’s trance. She giggled and began focusing on making the air seem thinner before her once again. Even if she wasn’t flying under her own power, this was one of the most profound experiences she’d ever had so far. It was nearly perfect, and she desperately didn’t want it to end.

Deep underground, long-dormant systems activated. Air began to circulate in the maze of tunnels and chambers that had been left unused for ages. Lights began to glow from the walls and floor themselves, chasing away the darkness that had abided in these corridors for a longer time than a living mind could easily grasp. When the area was once again capable of supporting life, the systems began the process of waking the Caretaker.

In a small chamber, red lights in the walls pulsed, then grew in intensity, illuminating a space of smoothly carved rock and gleaming metal. The chamber was very nearly empty except for the large crystal in the center. The pulsing lights revealed a figure inside the crystal, stuck like a fly in amber.

The red lights faded into white and the pulsing slowed and eventually stopped, bathing the entire room with a scintillating brilliance. Inside the crystal, the figure stirred. It was long and slender, six frail-looking limbs moving and stretching in the new light. The front of the crystal holding the shape dissolved into nothingness, allowing the Caretaker to step out and stand on two thinly-toed feet.

Deep blue irisless eyes blinked in the harsh light, and he inhaled the stale air through thin nostrils set into a slightly protruding muzzle. The Caretaker’s skin was roughly pebbled, forest green in color over most of it, though with bright rainbow frills along the head and neck. Most of the rest of the thin and frail body was obscured by a thick and intricately-folded robe of creamy white, embroidered with whorls of blue and red up the front. A narrow tail, nearly as long as his body, undulated in the air behind him, with its own set of rainbow frills down the center that ended in a plume of thick, feather-like white hairs. The tail acted as a counterbalance, keeping him from pitching forward when he walked, though it wasn’t needed when he was standing upright.

Sluggish thoughts stirred in the Caretaker’s mind. Automated systems had woken him from a slumber too deep for dreaming, which could only mean that something had gone horribly wrong, something which the self-correcting systems couldn’t deal with on their own. Something that he, himself, would have to deal with.

A thinly-fingered hand, one of four, reached out and waved over the floor of the chamber, and concentric rings of light shot up from the floor. Images resolved in the air before him, and his eyes narrowed at what they showed.

A gateway from another world had opened many days ago, allowing mechanical devices to ramble their way in, tearing up the grass and disturbing the lesser animals. The Caretaker’s throat let out a series of irritated clicks. The most recent hibernation had been a long one, and the system hadn’t woken him as quickly as it might have. This had allowed plenty of time for the intruders to open still more gates in other locations, sending more of their metal devices through.

Disruptions and distractions. It will have to be corrected, the Caretaker decided.

The Caretaker’s upper left arm reached back into the recently-vacated crystal cocoon and retrieved his staff. Nearly as tall as he was, the staff was made of carved ebony wood twined with ivory, and set with dimly-glowing runes along the length of it. Leaning on his staff and muttering to himself in a language that hadn’t been heard in ages, the Caretaker made his way slowly out of the chamber and into a vast hallway outside.

He was on his way to see a Goddess.

Author's Notes:

BrilliantPoint had this editor's note:

BP’s Editor’s note:
Dun dun duuuun!

If you’re wondering what the Dreamrealm is all about, hoopy has a terrific story about that. It gives a lot of background information, and it’s a good read.

Chapter 12: Confrontations

It was well past noon when flight practice ended. Rainbow Dash and Erin, out of their harnesses and back in town, decided to make a quick stop at a local cafe for lunch. And, all that time, Rainbow had kept up an almost non-stop stream of advice and information about flying.

“For example,” Dash said after their food arrived, “you can increase the air resistance on the downstroke, and decrease it on the upstroke. It really helps to avoid tiring you out.”

Erin, who hadn’t been able to stop smiling since before they had landed, simply nodded.

“That’s another reason to work up strength in your wings, of course,” Rainbow continued. “The stronger you can flap, the higher you can make the resistance on the downstroke. You get a lot of speed that way!”

Rainbow kept on talking, giving tidbits of advice and relating stories. She even started using parts of her lunch as visual aids, sketching out a few basic maneuvers with carrot and celery sticks indicating altitude and a cherry tomato acting as the pegasus.

“I should get you a sports camera,” Erin said vaguely as she picked at her salad. “You could wear it and record yourself as you flew.”

It took a few seconds for it to register that Rainbow had stopped talking. Erin looked up to see Rainbow staring at her, the cherry tomato still under her hoof.

“A… a sports camera?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s like a little movie camera. Lots of people use them for stuff like doing tricks or skydiving and stuff like that.”

“And it could record my stunts?”

“Well, yeah.”

Rainbow put her forehooves on the table and leaned forward, crushing her impromptu diorama underhoof as she did so. “Erin, I need one of those! I’ll... How much do they cost? I’ve got money!” She blinked and frowned. “I’ve got some money. How much? Wait… didn’t you say that tablet you got for me has a camera?”

Erin couldn’t help laughing at her friend’s sudden intensity. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t use that. Not unless you’ve got some way of keeping it really secure, and to keep water out of it. Sports cameras can take more of a beating. I’ll get one for you, I promise. Honestly, I feel a little bad I didn’t think of getting one before I came here.”

“Awesome," Rainbow said with a grin as she sat back down. Then she looked down at the table. "Oh, heck. I mushed my tomato!”

Erin started giggling at that, and Rainbow’s coarse laugh joined in a moment later.

The conversation went back to flight basics for the rest of her meal. Erin didn’t mind, and tried her best to pay close attention to everything Rainbow told her. After the bill came, they went their separate ways, with Rainbow needing to take care of some of the local weather.

After trotting away from the cafe, Erin stopped by Whirlygig’s Flight Emporium once again in order to pick up a set of flight goggles, something she had decided to get when Rainbow, in a fit of optimism, had taken her on a loop-de-loop. She’d spent the entire time screaming in mingled joy and terror, her eyes squeezed nearly shut as the wind tore at her corneas.

Whirlygig, as quirky as ever, seemed overjoyed to see her. “Twice in one week!” he said when she walked in. “I’m feeling particularly blessed, today!”

In the end, Erin settled on two pairs of goggles, one with clear lenses and one tinted. When it came time to try them on, she took one look at herself in the mirror before bursting out laughing.

“Something wrong?” Whirlygig asked.

“No, no. I just know now why Rainbow Dash keeps her mane so short.” Erin ran a hoof across her wilder-than-ever mane, the mass of hair all tangled and swept back from her face. “It’s got to make it easier to manage.”

“Aw, don’t worry, missy!” Whirlygig said with a chuckle. “You look great with that windblown look! To a pegasus, at least.”

Erin’s first reaction was to resort to her standard “smile, blush and look away” technique of dealing with unexpected compliments. This was followed by the mild discomfort of knowing that, not only did a pony find her attractive, but that his attraction was to a face that wasn’t even really hers, wasn’t even human.

It had happened before, and she still wasn’t really sure how she felt about that.

“Well,” she said, deciding to ignore the compliment, “let’s see how these things fit.”

Erin became aware of the not-quite-shouting discussion as she approached her home. Two ponies, both voices distressingly familiar, were having an argument. And, unless Erin was badly mistaken, she had a good idea of what, or rather who they were arguing about.

She broke into a quick trot, arriving quickly on the scene. As she feared, Meadowlark and Ditzy were having an argument in Ditzy’s front yard. Fortunately, both Dinky and Marigold seemed to be absent, most likely at school. Which was probably the reason why Meadowlark had decided to stop by now, rather than later.

“—doesn’t matter,” Meadowlark was saying, her voice harsh. “Stop trying to defend her! She knew my wishes, and even if it was your idea, she should have—”

Ditzy cut her off, a vexed expression over her features. “And I keep telling you, she wanted to leave! She wouldn’t have stayed, but I talked her into it!”

Ditzy’s right eye was pointing in a different direction than her left. Erin, remembering what her neighbor had said about stress contributing to that particular problem, picked up the pace, trying to get there before either one said something they’d regret after they calmed down.

“I have half a mind to forbid Marigold from playing with Dinky ever again!”

Something like that, Erin thought wryly. Out loud, she said, “I hope you’re not serious.”

Both ponies froze, then looked around at her. Ditzy looked slightly panicked for some reason. In contrast, Meadowlark narrowed her eyes and folded her ears flat against her head. Turning her back on Ditzy, Meadowlark trotted forward.

“About time you showed up. We need to talk.”

Those four words were never a good sign, Erin reflected. She braced herself, schooling her expression to neutrality.

“Okay,” Erin replied carefully. “Would you like to come into my house? We can talk more privately there.”

Meadowlark looked wary for a moment, then nodded. “Fine.”

“Do you mind if I stop by later, Ditzy?” Erin asked.

Her neighbor blinked a couple of times, her eyes going back to normal as she looked back and forth between Erin and Meadowlark. “Uh, sure.”

“Thanks.”

Erin led Meadowlark into her house, noting that the other mare, as angry as she probably was with her, still took the time to clean her hooves off on the welcome mat before coming inside.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Erin asked. “I’m afraid all I have right now is water.”

“Forget it,” Meadowlark said stiffly. “I’m not staying long.”

Erin checked the sigh that tried to erupt from her chest. Obviously, Meadowlark was in lecture mode and intended to have her say.

“I can’t say how disappointed I am Sun— Erin,” Meadowlark said. “I had made my wishes perfectly clear, and the first chance you get, you violate them.”

“That’s true,” Erin said. “Well, almost. I’ve had chances every day this week to stop by the Guest House. I decided to give you a chance to come to me, instead.”

“And, if I hadn’t?” Meadowlark huffed.

Erin flinched at the thought. “Then I guess that would have been that.”

“So, why, then? Help me understand, Erin!” Meadowlark gestured out the door towards Ditzy’s house. “Why would you so blatantly violate my wishes?”

“I didn’t want to,” Erin said. “What Ditzy said was true, I wanted to leave.”

“Don’t blame this on her!” Meadowlark shouted, lowering her head and pawing her hoof across the floor as if she were about to charge.

“I’m not!” Erin said, raising a forehoof defensively. She repeated herself more calmly. “I’m not. It’s true that she suggested I stay, but the real reason is because I decided to.”

“Well, then—” Meadowlark started, but Erin wasn’t done yet.

“The main reason I stayed? It was because I couldn’t think of a way to say to Marigold that I had to leave. She would have wanted to know why. What was I supposed to say?”

“Nothing. Anything. I don’t know, whatever.” Meadowlark’s mouth twisted as if she’d eaten something sour. “That’s not my problem. My problem is you.”

Erin felt her heart rate climbing. “So, what? I should have just walked away without a word? Made Marigold think I was mad at her, or that I didn’t like her, or that she’d said something wrong? Is that what you wanted?”

She had said that more forcefully than she’d intended. One corner of her mind was frantically trying to get her attention, to make her aware that she was getting upset. The rest of her was too focused on the situation to notice.

“Of course not!” Meadowlark snorted. “You shouldn’t have been over there in the first place!”

“Ditzy is my neighbor and she invited me over! I didn’t know Dinky was Marigold’s friend. Or that she was coming over last night!”

“Fine. You still should have left! Found a way not to make Marigold upset and left.”

Erin pursed her lips as she considered her response to that. “We’re going around in circles, now,” she said after a few seconds. “We’re right back where we started. I already told you, if I could have thought of a way to leave without hurting her, I would have!”

Meadowlark’s face was tight, her eyes narrow and her ears pinned back, the muscles of her jaw bulging as she glared at Erin.

“Look,” Erin said after half a minute had gone by. “I am more than happy to stay away from the Guest House, if you still want me to. And I’ll try to avoid Marigold if I can. But do you really want me to act like I don’t care about her anymore?”

Meadowlark flinched and looked away. “No. But, this? This isn’t going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“You living here. Next to Ditzy. You have to move.”

Erin barked an incredulous laugh before she realized that Meadowlark was serious. “Wait, you actually want me to move?”

“If you want Marigold and Dinky to still be friends, yes.”

“No,” Erin said, shaking her head. “No, I… I just got settled in! I have a bed showing up later today, if they haven’t delivered it already! I can’t… I’m not going to move.”

“That would be the best solution!”

Erin shook her head as an ember of resentment started glowing in her chest. “It’s not a solution, it’s just more avoidance!”

“Do you really want me to have to tell Marigold that she can’t be friends with Dinky anymore? Because that’s what this is coming down to!”

Erin’s mouth hung open as she absorbed that. Confusion turned to incredulity, which in turn fanned that ember of sullen resentment into anger. “Don’t you dare lay that on me!” she snapped.

“Now, you look here—” Meadowlark started, her ears going back again.

“No!” Erin stomped a hoof. “You don’t get to put this all on me!”

“If you had listened to me—” Meadowlark began, but Erin was in no mood to listen.

“I did listen to you! I stayed away from you, just like you asked, for months. Months! You said you needed time, and I gave it to you, but I’m not going to wait forever!” Erin stomped on the floor once again with a forehoof, and Meadowlark flinched back defensively. “If you want our friendship to be over, that's fine! Just tell me so I stop hanging on and hoping you’ll forgive me one day. But I won’t let you blame me for your decisions!”

Meadowlark, who had drawn back and raised a foreleg defensively across her chest when Erin had started yelling, slowly put her hoof back down. And then, without a word, she turned and walked back out of Erin’s house.

Erin watched her go, guilt and anger mingling with regret, her stomach churning with nausea. She felt a strong urge to call out, to apologize for what she’d said, but it was almost as if she could hear Applejack’s voice in her ear, asking if what she’d said was honestly how she felt.

It was. She let Meadowlark leave without another word.

The Earth Diplomatic Corps was contained in a large and nicely-appointed office building in downtown Canterlot. As Twilight trotted up, she took in the marble facade and the fluted columns, which indicated that the building had likely been built roughly one hundred and eighty years ago, when that sort of look had been in style. A quick glance at the bronze plaque on the side of the building confirmed her suspicion. She walked into the building with a satisfied smile.

After entering through the main door, her hooves sank into the plush red carpeting almost up to the fetlocks, making for very comfortable yet simultaneously uncertain footing. A little like walking on pillows, Twilight decided. She looked around for some indication of where to go, and spotted an information notice on the dark oak wall.

According to the sign, she could find the Equestrian Cultural Exchange Committee in room 227, up on the second floor. Twilight climbed the staircase and ended up finding the room she was looking for at the end of the hallway.

From what Celestia had told her, the director of this particular project, Backstitch, had gone to lunch a few days ago and had never come back, leaving the project somewhat in disarray on the Equestrian end. Twilight, with her love of organizing, was only too happy to look things over. Spike, the great little guy that he was, had offered to help, but Twilight had left him to be pampered by her mother until she knew a little more about what she was getting into.

Twilight took a steadying breath and knocked a hoof against the door. After a minute of nopony answering, she cautiously opened the door and peeked inside with a tentative “Hello?”

There were four desks inside the room, each in its own corner. Large metal filing cabinets took up whatever wall space wasn’t being used by the desks, or by the window on the south wall. A quick glance assured her that nopony was around.

“There was supposed to be somepony here,” Twilight muttered darkly as she let herself in.

She took a closer look at the desks and had to repress a flinch. The office was a mess, with piles of paperwork and empty paper coffee cups everywhere. With nothing better to do until the missing ponies returned from wherever they were, Twilight began idly clearing things up.

She had only meant to get rid of the empty coffee cups and other obvious refuse, but curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she soon found herself reading through the stacks of paper on the desks, and even straightening things up as she went. She knew better than to remove any paperwork from the desks themselves, though; she might lose somepony hours of work if she did so.

Still, stacking everything a little more neatly wouldn’t hurt anypony, would it?

It was while she was simultaneously reading through an exchange student’s folder and rearranging the pencils on one desk that she heard approaching hoofsteps and voices in conversation. The door was flung open and three ponies came marching in, two mares and a stallion.

“—and tell her that we don’t need any… who the blazes are you?” the stallion demanded.

Twilight quailed a little at the hostile look and tone, but quickly put on her best winning smile. “Ahem. Hello. I’m Twilight Sparkle. I was asked to stop by and make sure everything was going well after Backstitch left her job.”

“Oh. Yeah, I heard about that,” the stallion said, frowning. “I said I didn’t need anypony’s help. We got this under control.”

“I’m certain you do. Still, having an extra pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt, would it?” Twilight held up the folder she’d been reading. “For example, I see that you’re telling the students that it will be alright to bring their electronic devices—”

“Yes. Our human counterparts told us that their young people are practically inseparable from those things.”

Twilight’s smile got a little bit brittle around the edges. “From what I understand, that’s true for most humans. And please, this will go a lot faster if you stop interrupting me.”

The stallion grumbled something that Twilight decided that she was glad she couldn’t make out.

“The problem is, I haven’t seen anything regarding power converters. Have the humans said they would provide them?”

Now that seemed to finally throw the stallion off. His eyes narrowed as he frowned. “Power converters?”

“Yes. Human electronics won’t plug into Equestrian outlets. Also, the voltages are typically incompatible. Oftentimes the wattage is insufficient, requiring some sort of battery arrangement.” Twilight tilted her head to one side and smiled sweetly. “These humans won’t have any way to use their fancy technological devices without some way of recharging them, after all.”

“Oh.” The stallion let out an annoyed sigh and flicked his tail. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, most ponies wouldn’t,” Twilight said kindly. “I just happen to know more about humans and their culture than most ponies. After all, I’m good friends with one of them.”

“Well, shouldn’t the humans provide them, then?” the stallion huffed.

“Yes, but we need to pay for them,” Twilight said, holding onto her patience with all four hooves. “Just like the humans requisitioned and paid for all the magical torcs that our students will need, even though they had to be built in Equestria.” She waved a stack of forms with her magic. “That’s these forms, here, which were supposed to have been filled out last week.”

“Ah,” the stallion said, chewing his lower lip. Then he sighed again, seeming to deflate. “Damn.”

Twilight glanced at the two mares, who had been staying silent for the duration of the exchange, and then looked back at the stubborn stallion. “Maybe we should start with introductions? Once again, I’m Twilight Sparkle. And I’m very happy to meet you, Mister..?”

“...Rivets. Iron Rivets,” the stallion said somewhat grudgingly.

The unicorn mare dipped her head. "I'm Ember," she said.

"And I'm Snowdrift," the pegasus mare said with a wide grin. "Thanks, I think we can use the help."

Twilight’s smile turned more genuine. It was progress, at least.

“All right, then,” she said, pulling out a quill and placing the stack of paper on a nearby desk. “Let’s start filling out forms!”

“So, how did it go?” Ditzy asked, sitting across from Erin at the dining room table. Little Dinky had come home by this point, and was coloring quietly in the living room.

“Could have gone better,” Erin said with a sigh. She was grateful that she had at least managed to stop crying by now, though it had taken her some time standing in her living room before she'd settled down.

She related the entire story, keeping her voice down so that Dinky wouldn’t overhear. The entire time, Ditzy listened with a thoughtful expression, staying silent except for the occasional encouraging noise in order to keep Erin talking. When Erin finally finished her recap, Ditzy frowned and sighed.

“That mare is too stubborn for her own good, sometimes,” Ditzy said. “I mean, she’s incredibly smart, but she latches onto things and refuses to let go.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Erin said dryly, which caused Ditzy to laugh.

“Yeah, well… Hopefully, in a few days she’ll see reason. I’m glad you stood up for yourself, though.”

Erin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Meadowlark has a tendency to just push forward relentlessly. She usually won’t change course unless something makes her.” Ditzy grinned and reached across the table to pat Erin on the shoulder. “So, congratulations on pushing back!”

“Yeah, well…” Erin’s mouth quirked up in an uncomfortable half-smile. “If I’d known that, I would have yelled at her weeks ago.”

Ditzy gave a sympathetic chuckle at that. “Well, it could still explode in your face either way. I swear, that mare’s mind is a treacherous path to walk, sometimes. Especially where Marigold is concerned.” She cast a warm look over her shoulder, to where Dinky was coloring, and smiled. “Not that I can’t understand why.”

“Yeah, I can too,” Erin replied with a sad smile.

"Well, enough about that," Ditzy said. "Let's talk about more pleasant stuff! How's the new house coming along?"

Erin offered up a lopsided smile. "Pretty good. It turns out that my new bed was delivered earlier today, so I don't have to sleep on the couch anymore."

"Oh!" Ditzy blinked a few times. "That can't be good for your back. Or your wings, for that matter!"

Erin shrugged. "It's a pretty comfy couch. Still, I'm glad to have an actual bed."

"You know, I never had to use one before I had Dinky," Ditzy said, a wistful tone in her voice. "I'd just scrape together a cloud and sleep on that."

Erin straightened up. "Oh, why did I never think of that? I can sleep on clouds, now!" She grinned, feeling happy again for the first time since Meadowlark had left her house. "I totally have to try that!" A thought occurred to her, then. "Do the hotels in Cloudsdale have cloud-beds?"

"Huh... I think so?" Ditzy shrugged. "I don't know, I never stayed in a hotel there. Whenever we visit Cloudsdale, we usually stay with my aunt or my cousin."

"Lucky." Erin sighed wistfully. "I really want to visit Cloudsdale."

Ditzy's ears perked up. "Oh? Why is that?"

"I saw it for the first time on my way to Canterlot," Erin said. "It just seemed... Well, it might sound silly, but it seemed so magical. Even more so than Canterlot." She chuckled wryly. "Of course, I couldn't have visited it then. No cloud-walking for me."

"Eh, they have unicorns to cast cloud-walking spells on visitors," Ditzy said with a dismissive hoof-wave. "How do you think Dinky visits?"

"Oh, yeah." Erin considered that for a moment. "Come to think of it, I seem to remember Twilight talking about a cloud-walking spell."

"So, how about this weekend?" Ditzy asked, leaning forward with an eager smile on her face.

"This weekend?" Erin repeated, confused. "What?"

"Visiting Cloudsdale!" Ditzy winked an amber eye at her. "I'm sure my aunt would love to meet you! We could go together, and I could show you around."

Erin gaped at her for a moment before letting out a joyous laugh.

“Oh, wow, that would be great! But… I don’t know…” Erin trailed off, frowning. “I was going to head to Canterlot this weekend. Twilight said she might need my help on some sort of Cultural Exchange thing, and I wanted to order some stuff from Earth while the gateway is open.”

“Hm… Well, Dinky has always wanted to see Canterlot. How about we go up there together on Saturday, then we can all take an airship to Cloudsdale if Twilight doesn't need you? It's a win-win, as far as I'm concerned.”

Erin couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across her face if she'd wanted to. “That would work for me!” She bounced in her seat and raised her forehooves over her head. "Yay, Cloudsdale!"

"Yay, Cloudsdale!" Dinky echoed from the other room.

Ditzy and Erin stared at each other for a second before they both burst out laughing.

The Caretaker stood at the entrance to the Chamber of the Goddess and struck his staff once upon the floor. The room was a giant sphere, thirty paces across and almost perfectly round. The interior was made of milky-white stone with veins of glowing red that provided the only light with which to see. Otherwise, the room was featureless, with the exception of the narrow staircase that led from the hallway outside to the bottom of the chamber, ending in a flat circle three paces wide.

The Caretaker descended the stairs, his staff tapping each step as he went down. When he reached the center platform, he set the staff into a hole that had been bored into the rock. Then he folded his four arms and waited.

The wall in front of him began to glow red, brighter and brighter, then faded. A line of pure blackness, wider in the middle and tapering to a point at the top and bottom, appeared down the center.

The Chamber, when active, had always unnerved the Caretaker. It was like standing inside of a gigantic eye. Which, in effect, is exactly what it was. A sense of energy filled the air, and he knew he was the center of the Goddess’ attention.

He bowed low and spoke in a language that no living ear had heard for time uncounted. “My Goddess.”

The voice that replied was low and smooth, reverberating from the walls, sounding mildly amused. “Am I, still? And are you still my worthy Ardent?” The voice of the Goddess took on a darker tone. “Or are you still as I named you, so very long ago? Betrayer. Destroyer. False Prophet.” There was a short pause. “Murderer.”

The Caretaker straightened, ignoring the taunt. The Goddess would try to divert and distract him, he knew. Instead, he got straight to the point. “There are intruders on our world, Goddess. Have you let them in?”

He waited patiently through the long silence that followed. He finally got the answer when the Goddess began hissing with laughter.

“I see,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “To what purpose?”

The laughter continued, taking on a more frantic and insane pitch. It cut off suddenly, and the Goddess once again spoke, the sharpness of her voice indicating the fury that lie beneath her words. “Free the Dreamers, my Ardent. The Dreamers, and myself. Free us, or this world shall burn. Your precious order, this stagnant world, it will crumble into chaos and madness, and you with it! This, I Foretell. Your only hope is to break the system yourself. No action you undertake can save you now, but if you free us, perhaps the world itself can still be saved.”

A shiver ran down the Caretaker’s spine. Talking with the Goddess was like walking a treacherous path in full darkness. He steadied his breathing and reminded himself that it wasn’t impossible for the Goddess to lie. Even if she were telling the truth, no Foretelling was perfect or immutable. Not even when the one who Foretold was the Goddess herself.

“No. Order shall be maintained.”

As the Goddess began to wail her protest, he snatched his staff from the hole in which it rested. The great Eye of the Goddess began to fade, her cries dwindling away to nothing as the Caretaker stood and watched, cradling his staff in his arms. Eventually, the stone dimmed and returned to normal.

The Caretaker turned to walk back up the stairs. He hesitated, then spoke quietly, though he knew she could no longer hear him.

“And, I am sorry. But you shall never be free.”

The vast, empty hallways once again echoed with the sound of his staff as he made his way back to the room in which he’d first awoken. He waved one of his four arms, calling up a holographic representation of his world. It was small enough that he could reach around it with two arms, if only barely. Continents and seas in miniature were displayed before him as the model world turned slowly. Weather patterns were clear to the eye.

If he wished it, portions of the holographic display could be enlarged to show whatever level of detail he wanted, down to the individual leaves on trees. With a word, he could switch from the air currents to the magnetic field. It could even display the fields of magic that surrounded the world: The greater field, which was strong, wild and restrained, and the lesser field which was much tame and weak.

The resonance of the intersecting veil had been recorded, and it was a simple matter at that point for him to begin acquiring information. Interestingly enough, it appeared that the invaders’ world had no magical field of its own. All the more wonder that the Goddess would bother with them, if that were the case.

If the invaders were unable to use magic, then they posed very little threat overall. In addition, the portals opened so far were small, and they all opened within a relatively contained area. This made the incursions easy enough to defend against. This wasn’t an invasion, it was a nuisance.

Once again he puzzled over what the Goddess was planning. Caution was required. For all that he knew, responding aggressively would play directly into the Goddess’ plans. He needed to gather information before any response could be made. With that thought in mind, the Caretaker uttered a word. The holographic display changed, the world itself becoming indistinct and transparent. Brilliant dots of lights appeared across the display, swarming in the millions over the land, through the seas and across the skies.

They were the Dreamers. And it was these Dreamers that the Caretaker had devoted himself to protecting. Thus it was with a sense of grim necessity that he reached a thin-fingered hand into the display and hooked a claw into one of those bright specks at random, drawing it from the teeming multitude.

The Dreamer squirmed and twisted, trying to escape, but the Caretaker’s clawed hands allowed it no release.

“I am so very sorry, my friend," he said sadly.

He brought the struggling Dreamer with him to another display, first examining the mind he held. Astoundingly enough, there were still some faint memories, a vague sense of self, still lingering. Even after all this time, this Dreamer still had some individuality. Amazing.

The fragmented memories had to go, of course. They were stripped away and discarded. The sense of individuality, however, was reinforced. And, with it, new information was added, a new purpose. The Dreamer, or what was left of it, stopped trying to escape as it finally accepted its new purpose.

Remaking the Dreamer had taken a considerable amount of time. And it needed a new name, as it was no longer a Dreamer.

“Infiltrator,” the Caretaker said, giving it a name. “The first of your kind. And, I can hope, the last.”

The Caretaker was under no illusions; this thing that he had created was a monstrosity. A work of art, maybe, but a horrific one. Still, it was a necessity. The Goddess was many things, but she was no fool. There was more to this situation than was immediately apparent, and the information this one gathered could prevent untold tragedy from befalling his world.

They didn’t need to wait long. The intruders opened a gateway the next day, once again violating the world he was sworn to protect. He imagined the Goddess laughing as he brought up a holographic display that showed the location.

A room of metal and concrete existed on the other side of that hole in reality. The Caretaker released the Infiltrator, telling it bring back all the information it could. Then there was nothing left but to wait.

Chapter 13: A very busy weekend, part 1

Twilight yawned hugely as she made her way through the streets of Canterlot, which were painted a cheerful gold by the freshly-risen sun. Breakfast that Friday morning was at The Silver Crescent, at Rarity's suggestion. According to her, the place had just opened up recently and had quickly become locally popular.

Rarity had been right. Twilight saw the line before the café itself even came into view. The line of ponies went out the door and down the street before disappearing around the corner at the end of the block. Twilight let out a short groan at the sight, and started wondering if she’d be able to convince Rarity to eat elsewhere. As she got closer, though, she noticed that there were two sets of doors. The set on the left was for to-go only, which was responsible for the long line. The second set of doors was for sit-in dining and had no wait at all.

Her mood much improved, Twilight picked up the pace at the prompting of her grumbling stomach and let herself into the second set of doors. She immediately spotted Rarity sitting at a small table in the dining area, reading from a menu and sipping tea. Her friend’s mane was up in a business-like bun on the back of her head, though, for Rarity, ‘business-like’ still included several jeweled pins to keep it in place.

“Hi, Rarity,” Twilight said as she sat down, slinging her saddlebags over the empty chair between them.

“Twilight!” Rarity beamed and put aside the menu. “How lovely to see you. You look… hmm… Not exactly well rested, actually.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “Yesterday didn't go smoothly, I take it?”

Twilight uttered a short, bitter laugh. “You could say that. Their paperwork was such a mess, I actually took a break to bring Spike back to help out. They only had half of the visas completed and properly signed off—I had to run over to the Ministry office itself to rush everything through! And, even then, I had to drop Princess Celestia’s name more than once to get anypony moving.” She sighed, massaging her temples with her hooves. “On top of that, I have the strangest feeling I've forgotten something important.” Shrugging, she offered up a weak smile. “Oh, well. At least the most crucial stuff should more or less be ready by now. I’m heading back there after breakfast to make absolutely sure.”

Rarity smiled. “Another crisis averted by Twilight Sparkle’s amazing organizational skills! This calls for a celebration.”

Twilight chuckled. “Well, yes. I am good at organizing. I just wish everything hadn't been so…” she waved a hoof vaguely, trying to get the right word to pop up in her tired and stress-addled brain.

“Last minute?”

“Yeah, that works.” Twilight looked around. The line at the to-go window was moving pretty quickly. Ponies would walk up and order their drinks, shuffle off to one side, and a few moments later one of the baristas would pass over an insulated paper cup full of coffee. “This place sure is busy,” she noted.

“They have excellent coffee,” Rarity said. “It doesn't hurt that they're also very quick. Plus, they have their logo emblazoned on every cup of coffee they sell. It’s all about branding, dear. Ponies see those cups everywhere, and so they want the same thing.”

Twilight frowned at the logo printed on her menu. “You know, I have to think Princess Luna might be upset about that, since it looks an awful lot like her cutie mark.”

“Well, it’s not as if a crescent moon is an uncommon symbol,” Rarity replied. “Doesn't your father also have a crescent moon cutie mark?”

“Well, yeah, but it looks totally different!” Twilight rolled her eyes and grimaced. “Okay, you’re right. Maybe I’m just a bit cranky after the day I had yesterday.”

“It’s quite alright, darling.”

Twilight smothered a yawn behind her hoof. “Sorry. Anyway, how did your day go?”

“Quite well, actually! They desperately needed my help with the aesthetics of the planned designs, the poor dears. Here, I have something to show you that I think you might be interested in.”

Rarity’s horn glowed, and a bundle of papers came floating out of her own saddlebags. Twilight took the papers in her own field and looked at them with growing interest.

“Is this...?”

“The diagram for the magical construct that goes into the cachettes?” Rarity grinned. “Why, yes it is!”

Twilight tilted her head, perking her ears forward curiously. “Cachettes?”

“It’s what we've been calling them. ‘Magical batteries’ and ‘aetheric storage’ sounds so technical, and ‘torc’ doesn't apply to earrings, necklaces and the like.”

“Oh, I see!” Twilight said as she leaned in to get a closer look at the diagram. “Wow, they've made some refinements since I worked on it last.”

The initial concept for the magic batteries had been to form an incomplete spell circle, one that lacked any release conditions or triggers. The circle would gather magical energy up to its maximum capacity, but not be able to release it on its own. A pony would have to consciously draw magic from it for it to release any of the stored energy.

“Hmm… Looks like they've made the energy gathering even more efficient than when I helped with the initial design.” Twilight's eyes traced along the circle. "They've simplified it considerably, as well."

“So I understand,” Rarity said. “It’s fairly easy to replicate, though it is a little tedious.”

“It would be.” Twilight took out a sheet of paper from her own saddlebags and began taking notes. “So, what new materials are they trying to use for infusing this circle?”

“Well, they have some success with various precious metals, and some dense hardwoods. Those go fairly quickly, but aren't as stable. Gems have the highest stability, but take considerably longer to inscribe.” Rarity smiled. “That’s what I wanted to ask about. Altering crystal structures enough to etch this design into it takes a qualified unicorn a good amount of time. I was wondering if you could think of any way to speed up the process?”

“Hmm... “ Twilight frowned while she studied the designs. They really were elegant in their simplicity, with hardly any room for improvement. Still, Rarity was counting on her, so she set herself to studying the designs, looking for any way to improve things at all.

Her quill flew as she took notes, even going so far as to replicate the design itself on a piece of paper in minute detail in order to make sure she understood the circle in its entirety. While her quill flew, so did her mind, trying to figure out any small tweaks or changes that could result in an even simpler version of the circle.

“Twilight?”

“Yes?” Twilight looked up, flushing when she saw both Rarity and their waiter looking at her. “Oh, sorry. I was a bit caught up in this. Did you order already, Rarity?”

“Yes, I did. Did you know what you wanted, dear?”

“Um… I’ll have whatever you’re having, I guess,” she said.

The waiter made a note on his pad. “Right. I’ll have your food out in a jiffy!”

“You do that,” Twilight said absently as she returned to studying the design in front of her. She chewed on her bottom lip, making notes and writing out calculations on a piece of scratch paper beside her. “Maybe... invert the second matrix,” she muttered. “No… That would throw the third quadrant out of balance. We’d need to adjust the initial phase to gather… Hmm…”

As she kept working on the problem, she slowly became aware of something tugging at her attention. Finally she looked up to see Rarity looking at her with an amused smile.

“What?”

“Your food is getting cold, Twilight,” Rarity said, pointing with the fork held in her magical grip.

Twilight looked down to see a plate with a single poached egg, rye toast, and some sectioned grapefruit sitting before her. She poked at the toast with her hoof while frowning. “Uh. I really should have ordered something else.”

Rarity smirked. “Consider it revenge for tempting me with garlic bread yesterday.”

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” Twilight’s eyes slowly gravitated back to the design schematics. "I don't think I'll be able to simplify that any further, though I do have a suggestion."

Rarity lowered her teacup and smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, Twilight?"

"We could increase the capacity for storage by making larger circles," Twilight said. Her horn glowed and her quill began sketching. "Look. You could make a larger structure that would store a similarly larger amount of magical energy and ship those to the homes of the host families where the Equestrian students will be staying. That would decrease their reliance on torcs, which, in turn would allow for fewer torcs being required."

"Twilight," Rarity said.

"And I bet we could even use the larger stations—I should come up with a name for that, really—I bet we could make it so that they could actually recharge the torcs! Right now, we're planning on recycling the ones we ship to Earth. You know, having the students send theirs in to be recharged and sending back fully charged ones in replacement. This could cut down on a lot of the logistics required for that!"

"Twilight, dear, I—"

"Material composition wouldn't be as large of a problem, either. It could be made out of any kind of metal or wood. Or, heck, even stone for a circle this large." Twilight frowned and crossed out some of the notes she'd written down before starting over with some calculations. "What would really be perfect, though, is if we found some way to convert other forms of energy into magic. Say, electricity."

"That's not—"

"I mean, humans have electricity in abundance! They even make it directly out of sunlight. Sunlight! That's pretty amazing, don’t you think? If we could make a solar-powered aetheric converter—Ooh, I like that name! I'll make a note of it—then a pony could stay on Earth indefinitely!" Twilight looked up and grinned. The grin started fading when she noticed the glassy-eyed look on Rarity's face. "Um... I got carried away, didn't I?"

“Just a bit, darling,” Rarity said. “I was asking for the jewelers, not for the sake of the exchange students. Though, I must say, having a larger store of magic to charge the cachettes is a grand idea, and solves another problem we've been having.”

“What problem would that be?” Twilight asked.

“Well, apparently the smaller cachettes have storage issues.”

“Well, they would have,” Twilight said, nodding. “The ability to retain magic increases drastically as the size of the circle increases. Something the size of an earring would last less than a day of minimal-to-moderate use.”

“And that is the issue they’re having,” Rarity said with a sigh. “However, if we can give them something larger to use to recharge it… well, that opens up many new possibilities, doesn't it?”

“Yes.” A flash of inspiration hit Twilight right then and she grinned hugely. “And I may have a way to speed up the inscribing process!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Rarity beamed and leaned forward eagerly. “What would we need to do?”

Twilight’s quill was already racing over a new sheet of paper as she answered. “Simply put, we can use a mock-up of the design, scaled to the correct size and adjusted for the materials used. A unicorn could use a simple transcribe spell to push it from the first medium to the second. If you use a printing press for the circle and the target material used is standardized enough, then you could push through several inscribed cachettes in the time it takes to do a single one now!”

Twilight sat back, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction at the overjoyed look on Rarity’s face.

“Oh, Twilight, you have no idea how much time this will save us!”

“Well, I could probably come up with an estimate. How long does it take now?”

“For a gem inscription?” Rarity hummed and tapped her hoof on her chin. “On a good-quality gem, it takes a skilled unicorn roughly a full eight hour day.”

“Well, then, if this works out as well as I hope it will, then I believe you’d be able to complete an inscribed gem in roughly one-tenth that time. So, you would save approximately seven hours and twelve minutes per gem, at a guess.”

Rarity was staring at her with a confused little smile on her muzzle. Twilight decided to clarify.

“Of course, that’s just a rough estimate based what you've just told me and on what I believe would be the optimal results from transcribing onto a gem. I may be missing some variables, since I’m not all that familiar with the current process.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Rarity said before she began laughing. After a moment, Twilight joined in, though she wasn't completely certain how what she said was funny.

Ponyville’s open market was thrumming with activity, even before noon. Early harvests had already started coming in from the local earth pony farms, mostly leafy green vegetables, and ponies were lining up to get the fresh produce. Sweet Apple Acres was geared more towards growing grains and legumes while waiting for the apples to come in, though they typically did have a field or two devoted to alfalfa.

AJ wandered the open market, checking the prices, even though she didn't need any produce at the moment. Granny’s garden had several types of lettuce growing in it, which was plenty for the Apple family’s meals.

What AJ needed had been a bit more complicated. Winter had passed but it had left its mark on the farm. They needed fresh paint for the barn, new nails, and a variety of other durable goods. She had just arranged a delivery from Filthy Rich’s Barnyard Bargains, and was now in the mood for a quick snack before heading back and getting to work.

It was while Applejack was trotting towards Sugarcube Corner that she spotted Erin. Her friend was walking around and scanning the sky with a thoughtful frown on her muzzle.

“Hey, there, Erin,” Applejack said as she approached. “What’s up?”

Erin blinked and looked over, breaking into a huge smile. “Hey, AJ. How are you doing today?”

“Fine, just fine. I was headin’ to Sugarcube Corner to pick myself up a bite to eat. Care to join me?”

“Sure, sounds fun!” Erin fell in beside Applejack.

Erin was limping, Applejack noticed as they walked. Not very much, but she was definitely favoring her right foreleg.

“Everything okay there, sugar? Only, I noticed you seem to be havin’ trouble with your leg.” Applejack pointed her muzzle at the limb in question.

Erin’s muzzle twisted into a grimace. “Just a little sore. My morning runs are a lot harder than they used to be. I keep hoping my earth pony magic will kick in, but so far it hasn't happened.”

“Earth pony magic?” Applejack shot Erin a confused smile. “Ain’t sure I know what you mean.”

“You know, increased strength and endurance?” Erin glanced over at her and frowned. “I thought that was part of having earth pony magic.”

“Well…” AJ chuckled. “It is and it ain’t. Earth ponies tend to be hardy, and we can get knocked around more than most ponies and still stay standin’, but it ain’t like we just get it hoofed over to us. We have to work to get stronger, just like anypony else.”

Erin let out a dissatisfied grunt. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to get that. Granted, I've only been going for runs for a few days, but… Well, my old body was a lot stronger and faster. It’s annoying to be so out of shape.”

“You’ll get there.” AJ nudged her with a shoulder. “And, speakin’ of ‘gettin’ there’, here we are.”

Applejack held the door open, letting Erin go in first. Mrs. Cake gasped at them, an expression of relief on her face as she came around to the front of the counter.

“Oh, girls! I’m so glad you’re here!” the shopkeeper said as she trotted towards them. “Are you here to help with Pinkie?”

AJ blinked, confused.

“Something is wrong with Pinkie?” Erin asked, sounding concerned.

Mrs. Cake’s ears drooped. “Oh, I just thought… well, she’s been up in her room for the last three days and has barely left it.” Her brows knit as she cast a worried glance towards the top of the staircase. “I don’t even know if she’s been eating! We haven’t seen her out of her room for days, now.” She scuffed a hoof on the floor. “Every time we try to talk to her, she shouts through the door that she’s ‘researching’. I’m starting to get really worried!”

AJ looked upwards, in the general direction of Pinkie’s bedroom. Her snack would have to wait. “We’ll see what we can do, Mrs. Cake.”

“Oh, thank you, girls!”

Erin followed Applejack up the stairs until they reached Pinkie’s door. Applejack was about to knock, but something just felt… off.

“You reckon’ she’s okay?” AJ whispered to Erin.

The other mare’s mouth was set in a firm line. “I think I know what the problem is,” she said, her voice sounding a little exasperated.

AJ frowned and scratched a hoof along the back of her mane. “What’s that?”

“She’s probably been locked up here with her tablet this whole time,” Erin sighed. “I should have expected something like this.”

Applejack frowned at the other mare. “Uh, them doohickeys ain’t actually dangerous, are they? Only, I told Apple Bloom I’d let her use mine some time.”

“They’re not at all dangerous by themselves,” Erin replied. Applejack noticed that her ears were drooping as she said it, though. “It’s all in how you use them, really.”

With that, Erin rapped a hoof sharply on the door three times.

“Go ‘way!” Pinkie’s voice said through the door. “M’busy!”

“Pinkie, it’s Er—um, Sunflower. I’m here with Applejack, and we—”

A huge commotion could be heard through the door, followed by the sound of hooves scrambling across a wooden floor. Half a second later, the door was flung open with a crash. The lights were off in her bedroom, and Applejack got a quick impression of bloodshot eyes and a snarled mane.

There was a shriek of “Sunflower!” as two pink forelegs shot out the doorway, wrapping around Erin’s neck and pulling her into the darkness.

“Uh…” Applejack proceeded more carefully, looking around as she stepped into Pinkie’s bedroom. All of the shades were lowered, casting the room in gloomy shadows. Empty bags of snack chips littered the floor, and every surface had a bakery box stacked on it, some empty and others still partially full. It looked like Pinkie’s diet for the last three days had been nothing to brag about.

Pinkie herself was looking even rougher. Her coat was greasy and sticking up in all directions, which AJ judged meant that she hadn't showered or even brushed herself in the last few days. The food crumbs stuck in Pinkie’s coat and mane were a pretty big hint that she was right.

Definitely gotta keep an eye on Apple Bloom, if I ever let her use mine, Applejack thought.

Pinkie had Erin in the middle of the floor, holding Erin’s muzzle between her pink hooves while she shot off question after question, barely seeming to take the time to breathe as she did so. Erin was frozen, staring at Pinkie like a mouse would stare at a snake.

“...to why they had to go there? Does it really matter who was on first? Why just a thermos? Do your toys really come to life when nopony’s looking? Do you guys really have magic board games, and how can I get one? How many humans actually try to raise leopards?”

Applejack put a hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Pinkie…” she said, trying to get a word in edgewise.

“... was completely obsessed with honey, only he spelled it wrong! There are ogres in the swamps?! Was Gary really king of the humans? And video games! I know I missed so many references and I need you to explain them to me!”

“Pinkie!” Applejack said, giving her friend a little shake.

“Someone should tell that cricket that wishing on stars doesn't do anything! I've tried it!”

Enough, Applejack decided, was enough. She pulled Pinkie Pie away from Erin and turned her around so they were facing each other “Pinkie Pie! Snap out of it!”

“P. Sherman,” Pinkie rasped weakly, her eyes darting and haunted. “42 Wallaby Way…”

“Pinkie, stop!”

“Where did they get the coconuts, Applejack?” Pinkie’s eyes focused on her, intent and frantic. “Where? They’re tropical!”

“The prop department,” Erin said, finally shaking off her shock. “It was just a movie, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie’s head slowly rotated to look at Erin. Her eyes blinked slowly, and a look of realization started to settle over her features.

“Oh… that’s right…” Pinkie said in a whisper. The tension fled and her body slumped. “I kinda forgot. I… I haven’t slept in a while, I think.”

“Have you been watching movies on your tablet this whole time?” Erin asked, frowning at a glowing lump on Pinkie’s bed.

“Mister Hugglebunny,” Pinkie corrected absently, her head drooping toward the floor. “And… uh, kinda. I guess?”

“Pinkie, that was three days ago.”

“Oh.” Pinkie blinked owlishly and looked around as if seeing her room for the first time. “Really?” she asked in a meek little voice.

“Really,” Applejack said. “At least, that’s when I got mine. An’ you been holed up here this whole time, doin’ nothin’ but watchin’ movies?”

“And shows. And short subjects.” Pinkie shuddered and whispered, “There’s so many...”

Applejack snorted and walked over and flicked on the light switch, which caused Pinkie to flinch and suck in a breath of air while clenching her eyes shut. The light didn't do the room’s appearance any favors. And, now that the initial shock was over, she became aware of the smell: a combination of sugar, stale air and unwashed pony.

“First things first,” Applejack said, trotting over to a window and opening the shade. “We get these windows open and get some fresh air in here.” She suited words to action, pushing the window up. A welcome breeze immediately started to freshen the room as she made her way to a second window. “In the meanwhile, Pinkie, you’re going to take a shower,” AJ said as she struggled with the second window. It was stubborn, requiring a bit more muscle than the first one. “You’ll feel better if’n you’re clean, I reckon’.”

“Oh…” Pinkie looked down at herself, blushing. “Yeah, I suppose I’m probably pretty stinky, huh?”

“Just a bit,” Applejack said with a smile. “While you’re cleanin’ yourself up, Erin an’ I will clean up your room.”

“We will?” Erin asked, flinching a little when AJ turned to stare her. “I mean, yeah. We will.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Just hold it there sugarcube,” Applejack said. “You need a clean place to sleep. An’ you’re gonna sleep, just as soon as you get back out of your shower.” She butted Pinkie gently with her head, urging her towards the door. “Go on, now. Git. We got this.”

Pinkie sighed and, defeated, slunk towards the bathroom. Applejack took a moment to look around the room.

“Right,” she said with a decisive nod. “Erin, can you go and ask Mrs. Cake where the clean bed sheets are? These need changin’.’”

“On it!” Erin said, heading towards the doorway.

“And bring up a garbage bag when you come back up!” Applejack looked around and sighed. “Make that two!”

“Right!” Erin called back as her hooves clattered down the stairs.

AJ worked on getting the rest of the windows open. Between the fresh air and the natural light, things were already a lot better in Pinkie’s room. The next order of business, Applejack decided, was to strip the bed. She started to make her way over only to stop and stare at what she saw there.

Pinkie’s bed wasn't unoccupied. Propped up in a sitting position was a large stuffed rabbit, roughly the size of a small dog. It was a dark, cloudy grey with a dingy white belly. It had shiny black button eyes, and one of its large ears was flopped over its face. That, along with a mouth that seemed to be stitched into a frown, gave the thing a morose appearance.

The rabbit was wearing denim overalls, but that wasn't the strangest thing. The front of the overalls had been cut away and inexpertly sewn back together into a kind of harness. Something glassy was being held in the harness and, after a moment, Applejack realized it was Pinkie’s tablet. The power cord trailed out of the pocket of the rabbit’s overalls and down towards the outlet.

“So,” Applejack said with a grin as she approached it. “You must be Mister Hugglebunny.”

She wasn't expecting the screen to light up, and she sure wasn't expecting a sad-sounding voice to emanate from the stuffed rabbit.

“That’s right,” Mister Hugglebunny said.

“Huh,” Applejack said, taking a step back. “That’s creepy.”

“What’s creepy?” Erin asked from the doorway. She had a bundle of clean sheets on her back.

Applejack pointed wordlessly. Erin trotted up to get a better look, then stopped and stared for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Erin said. “That is so Pinkie Pie.”

Applejack couldn't help a chuckle of her own. “Reckon’ you’re right. Come on, let’s get this room cleaned up.”

Between the two of them, it didn't take too long. Mister Hugglebunny got moved to the nightstand, the sheets were changed and the blankets vigorously shaken to expel any wayward crumbs. The stale old baked goods and snack bags were piled into the garbage bags. Gummy, Pinkie’s pet alligator, was standing by his food dish, which had separate bowls for food and water, both of which were full. That meant that Pinkie had at least still taken care of her pet, even though she’d stopped taking care of herself.

They had just finished cleaning the floor when a freshly-showered and much saner-looking Pinkie Pie walked back into the room.

“Oh, wowie!” Pinkie said, looking around with wide eyes. “You didn't have to do all that! Now I feel bad…”

“I’m the one who should feel bad,” Erin said with a sigh. “I didn't mean for my present to make you stay up for three days straight.”

“Well, that’s my fault,” Pinkie said, then yawned until her jaw cracked.

“Nice work on Mister Hugglebunny,” Erin said, nodding towards the stuffed rabbit which was currently slumped over itself on the nightstand.

“Thanks!”

“Now, Pinkie,” Applejack said, putting on the voice she used to talk to Apple Bloom when the girl was up to her usual shenanigans, “I don’t wanna hear about you doin’ this again. You understand? You need sleep, and you can’t shut yourself away for days just to play with a new toy, no matter how fun it is.”

Pinkie sighed, her head drooping towards the floor. “Yes, mom.”

Applejack spluttered. “I ain’t…” She stopped, noting that Pinkie was looking up at her with a gleam in her eye and a small smile curling up the corner of her mouth. She chuckled. “Right, sorry. I’m just worried ‘bout ya, that’s all.”

“Thanks AJ,” Pinkie said, coming up and giving her a hug. She smelled a lot better, like soap and shampoo, AJ noted. Then Pinkie hugged Erin, too. “Thank you both. If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll get some sleep, now.” She yawned again. “I’m pretty tired…”

“You got it,” Applejack said as she and Erin moved out to the hallway. As AJ shut off the lights, she noticed that Pinkie had already slid between the sheets.

“G’night, Mister Hugglebunny,” Pinkie murmured as Applejack shut the door.

“Good night, Pinkie Pie,” the stuffed rabbit replied.

Applejack shuddered. “That’s just plain weird,” she whispered to Erin, who was already making her way downstairs.

Erin chuckled. “You get used to it, if you set up the personal assistant feature.”

“I ain’t so sure I want to, now,” Applejack replied as she followed Erin down to the main floor.

Mrs. Cake was overjoyed to hear that Pinkie had showered and was now sleeping off her three-day movie binge. In fact, she was so happy that she refused to take their bits when they ordered, no matter how much Applejack argued. AJ finally gave in with a sigh, and settled down to eat her pastry.

Applejack’s apple tart didn't last very long, and neither did Erin’s chocolate-drizzled donut. Soon enough, the two of them were back out on the road.

“Well, that was sure strange,” Applejack said as they walked along.

Erin, who looked a little downcast, nodded. “Yeah. I really should have checked up on her sooner.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Applejack asserted. “Pinkie’s a grown mare. She should know how to take care of herself.”

Erin grunted and walked in silence for a few seconds. Eventually her eyes turned skyward again.

“Lookin’ for somethin’?”

Erin smiled sheepishly. “Um, yeah. Rainbow Dash took me flying yesterday. I was kind of hoping she’d be able to do it again today.”

Applejack whistled, impressed. “You’re up and flyin’ already? That’s sure impressive!”

“I’m not exactly flying,” Erin said with a wince. “More like being dragged through the air. My wings still aren't working right.” Erin scowled at the offending appendages.

Applejack shot her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure it’ll all work out, Erin.”

“Yeah,” Erin said morosely. “I’m probably just too eager. Heck, I haven’t even been here a week, yet.”

They walked in silence for a little while. Then Applejack had an idea. “Tell ya what. Why don’t ya come out to the farm for a bit, and we’ll see if I can’t help ya figure out how to get in touch with your earth pony magic.”

Erin perked up at that. “Really?”

“Why not?” Applejack chuckled. “Gotta warn ya, though. It ain’t like learnin’ unicorn magic. To get you in touch with earth pony magic, I gotta work ya, and hard. It’s the only way.”

“That’s fine!” Erin said with an eager smile.

“Well, come on, then!” Applejack said, grinning. She broke into an eager trot, heading for home.

The rhythmic click-clacking of the train provided an underlying rhythm to Erin and Ditzy’s conversation on what had turned out to be an absolutely beautiful Saturday morning. The two of them were sitting across from each other on the Canterlot Express, talking quietly while Dinky ignored them both in order to stand up on her hind legs and peer out the window at the scenery that was drifting by.

Erin’s wings twitched uncomfortably under her simple green sundress. It was one that Rarity had made for her before she’d gone back to Earth and, as such, it was lacking in wing-holes. Fortunately, her first pony body had been just a bit broader across the shoulders, which meant that there was enough room for the wings underneath. Still, the fabric was pressing her wings into her sides, causing the feathers to ruffle occasionally.

To Erin, the mild discomfort was worth it. She wasn't getting nearly as many stares as an apparent unicorn than she had as an alicorn.

Ditzy had seen Erin in her dress that morning and had immediately panicked, asking if it was expected to wear clothes while in Canterlot. Erin had assured her that plenty of ponies went without. Ditzy had compromised with a wide-brimmed white straw hat with a bright yellow daisy tucked into its pink band, which had the advantage of looking nice while also keeping the sun out of her eyes. Dinky had given in to her mother’s demands to look presentable, but only to the extent that she’d allowed her mane and tail to be combed and tied back with dark purple ribbons.

Currently, Erin was relating her experiences with trying to unlock earth pony magic, trying to embellish the story here and there to make it more interesting. Still, there was only so much one could do when working with stories about weeding and hauling bags of seed until every part of your body ached.

“At least they fed me,” Erin said with a chuckle. “Applejack insisted. Told me all my work was worth at least a meal.”

“And you said yes, right?” Ditzy asked.

“Of course! Have you ever had Granny Smith’s cooking?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Ditzy cleared her throat and glanced at her filly, who was still totally enraptured by the view outside of the window. “I imagine Big Macintosh was there?”

“Yeah,” Erin replied. She tilted her head, looking curiously at Ditzy. There had been an odd note in the mare’s voice when she asked that. “He was there. Why?”

Ditzy cleared her throat and looked away.“He’s… Well, he’s nice. And he’s a good worker.” She blushed and leaned closer, adding in a near-whisper, “And he’s not bad to look at, either.”

Erin gasped, clapping both forehooves up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, are you...?”

“Shh!” Ditzy said, nodding towards her daughter, who was still glued to the window. “Let’s just say… Sometimes, the view is so nice that I sometimes find myself staying longer than strictly necessary when I deliver their mail.”

Erin couldn’t help giggling, and Ditzy joined in a moment later. This caught Dinky’s attention, who turned and scowled at them.

“What’s funny?” the filly asked.

“Nothing,” Erin and Ditzy said at the same moment, which got them giggling harder. Dinky grunted in annoyance and went back to staring out the window. Erin resolved to try to find some subtle way of sounding out Macintosh to see if he’d be interested in dating a mare with a young filly.

“So, do you think it did any good?” Ditzy asked after the giggles died down. “Do you feel any closer to being able to use earth pony magic?”

Erin grimaced. “I don’t know about that, but the earth felt a lot closer to me by the time I was done.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was caked onto my hooves, crusted into my coat, and I even had some in my mane and tail.” Erin sighed. “You should have seen the state of my shower once I got done washing it all out.”

Ditzy gave a sympathetic wince. “I can imagine. I know what it’s like when Dinky comes in after rolling around in the mud for a day.”

Dinky pulled her attention away from the window. “I don’t roll in the mud!”

“What about last Tuesday?”

“That was a mud fight.”

“Well, that mud fight took me almost two hours of cleaning after you tracked half of Ponyville through my house, little filly,” Ditzy said with a frown.

“Yeah, well…” Dinky blushed before letting out an annoyed huff. “Rumble started it!”

Ditzy shook her head. Dinky, in an apparent bid to pretend like the last few seconds of conversation never happened, turned resolutely back to the window and pointedly ignored them.

“So, what were you two planning on doing while I’m looking up Twilight?” Erin asked. “Did you want to see if I could give you a quick tour of the palace?”

Dinky whipped her head around to stare at her mother with pleading eyes, which Ditzy ignored. “That’s okay,” Ditzy said, ignoring the whine her daughter let out in response. “I’d feel pretty out of place around all those important ponies. I was thinking of taking Dinky to see the Royal History Museum. We could meet up there, once you’re done talking to your people, if you want?”

Erin wanted to make some assurances that Ditzy would fit right in with the “important ponies”, but decided not to push it if the mare felt uncomfortable about it. Besides, the museum was actually a place she was interested in, as well.

“Sounds good,” she said.

They chatted for a little while longer, mostly just exchanging small talk about life in Ponyville. The train pulled up to the Canterlot station slightly after noon. As they put their saddlebags on, Erin and Ditzy confirmed their plans to meet at the museum’s gift shop in three hours, said their goodbyes and went on their separate ways.

As opposed to her last visit to Canterlot, this time everypony ignored her. Erin grinned as she trotted along, glad that she’d thought of wearing a dress this time. Even if it did make it feel like a bunch of sweat was gathering under her wings.

The guards at the castle gateway took a quick look at the ID that Erin produced from her saddlebags before ushering her in. Erin asked a palace servant where to find Twilight’s quarters. The first servant didn't know, but she was able to bring Erin to a second servant, who gave her what were probably the most convoluted directions that Erin had ever heard.

With an eye on the time, Erin trotted through the hallways, occasionally asking for directions, until she found herself outside of what she was pretty sure was the apartment that Twilight was currently staying in.

She knocked and waited. After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a startled Twilight Sparkle.

“Oh! Erin, I wasn't expecting you,” Twilight said.

There was a long pause while Erin worked that over in her head.

“Uh… You asked me to stop by, remember?” Erin studied the blank look on Twilight’s face. “The exchange students, and how having a native Earthling might help?”

Twilight’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as the fur on her cheeks darkened with a blush. “Oh… Um… That all happened last night, actually.”

Erin gaped at her.

“Um… sorry?” Twilight said with a feeble smile. “I totally forgot I asked you to come out! The paperwork was a mess, and everything was so last-minute, it was insane. I was running my tail off the minute I walked through the door. The only one I could count on was Spike from my parent’s place for some extra help and it was still a close thing.” She scuffled her hooves and ducked her head. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Erin blinked several times in rapid succession. Then her shoulders started shaking. A moment later, the first chuckles bubbled up, quickly turning into full-blown laughter. “Oh, Twilight,” she said. “Don’t ever change. No, I’m not mad. This actually works out well for me.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. My neighbor, Ditzy, wanted to see Canterlot anyway. She has some relatives in Cloudsdale, so if you didn't need me, we were going to head out and stay with them while she showed me around the city.” Erin grinned. “You know how much I've always wanted to go to Cloudsdale, right?”

Twilight let out a relieved sigh. “Right,” she said with a nod. “I’m still sorry. I shouldn't have forgotten.”

“It’s fine, really. So, what are your plans for today?” Erin asked. “I’m meeting up with Ditzy and her daughter for a late lunch after taking care of some things in the Harmonics compound. We’re meeting at the Royal History Museum. Did you want to join us?”

“Ooh, museum!” Twilight said, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, but I can’t. Princess Luna was going to give me my first lessons in dream magic in about ten minutes.”

“Well, that sounds even better!” Erin smiled and nudged her friend with a hoof. “You’ll be the first unicorn to learn this magic in centuries, right?”

“The first of many,” Twilight replied, nodding and doing a very poor job of hiding the gleeful smile on her face. “And not just unicorns. It seems like pegasi and earth ponies can learn aspects of this magic, too.”

“Oh, neat!”

Twilight nodded again. “Luna sent out couriers all over Equestria with recruitment posters, and apparently the first volunteers have already started to arrive.”

“Well, that’s great!”

“I should get going to Luna’s chambers,” Twilight said. “Did you want to walk with me?”

“Sure,” Erin said, stepping aside so Twilight could exit her apartment.

The two friends filled each other in on their days since they’d last seen each other. They were only able to cover the very basics before they reached the doors to Luna’s own quarters. The two Royal Guards standing outside of her door gave them both implacable looks before returning their stares to the opposite walls.

“I guess I’ll see you when I get back to Ponyville,” Twilight said, giving Erin a hug. “Give the girls my love for me, okay?”

“You got it,” Erin replied, returning the hug. “You take care. And have fun!”

“How can I not?” Twilight asked with a smile that lit up her face. “I’m going to be learning new magic!”

Erin laughed. Twilight disengaged the hug and turned to the guards, who knocked and then opened the doors to Luna’s chambers without a word. With one last wave, Twilight turned and trotted eagerly through the doorway.

Watching her friend go, Erin couldn't help but feel a little sad. It would be at least a few more days before they got to see each other again. Still, maybe this dream magic was something that Twilight could end up teaching her, along with regular magic.

Perked up by that thought, Erin gave both of the guards a polite nod—which was, of course, stoically ignored—and then walked away, making her way towards the Royal Gardens and the Harmonics gateway back to Earth.

Doctor Maggie Henson frowned down at her tablet, flipping through page after page of expenses and budget items. She could feel a headache coming on and, not for the first time, she marveled at how different math could feel when it was used in physics versus, say, a cost-analysis report.

A brief knock at her door broke her concentration. “Come on in,” she called, immensely grateful for the excuse to put the tablet aside.

The door was opened by a familiar auburn-maned pony. “Hi, Maggie,” Erin said with a smile.

“Erin! Good to see you. Come on in!”

“Thanks,” Erin said. She opened the door wide enough to accommodate for the saddlebags she was wearing over her light green dress and stepped inside. “Do you have a minute?”

“I have all the time in the world for anything that doesn't involve budgets, shipments and line-items,” Maggie said with a chuckle.

Erin froze in the process of sitting down in one of the pony-adapted chairs in Maggie’s office. “Ah,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Well, about shipments…”

Maggie sighed. “What about shipments?”

“Well, I may have just ordered a ton of stuff online, and used the address here as the shipping address.”

Maggie chuckled. “That’s fine. I told you that you could do that, remember?”

Erin nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah… though, this might be a bit more than you intended for when you made that offer.”

“What do you mean?” Maggie asked with a sinking feeling in her gut.

“Well… It may be easier if I just showed you.” Erin pulled her own tablet out of her saddlebags with her teeth. After tapping a few times with a mouth-held stylus, she passed the tablet over to Maggie, who began flipping through various order confirmations.

“Ah… wow.” Maggie let out a low whistle. “This is kind of a lot of stuff.”

“Um, yeah.” Erin fidgeted in her chair for a moment. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you send the order confirmations to my email? I’ll put the mail room on alert.” One particular item caught Maggie’s attention. “A bulk order of Lego bricks?”

Erin blushed and cleared her throat. “My new neighbor has the cutest little filly,” She said by way of explanation.

Maggie laughed, shaking her head as she passed the tablet back. “Might be kind of tricky, taking them back apart by mouth,” she pointed out. Then she laughed again at the dismayed look on Erin’s face.

“I didn't think of that…” Erin frowned and ran a hoof through her mane. “Well, I suppose I’ll still order them. Maybe she can figure out how to take them back apart with her magic.”

“Oh, she’s a unicorn?”

“Yup!” Erin grinned and perked back up. “Her name is Dinky. I’m actually meeting her and her mother at the Royal Museum in a little bit. And then, we’re all going to Cloudsdale!”

“Oh, nice!” Maggie said, straightening up in her chair. “Make sure to take lots of pictures!”

“Are you kidding? I’m probably going to fill up the storage on my tablet with ‘em!”

“Send them to me next week when the gateway opens back up, if you can.” Maggie said. “Oh! That reminds me. We’re finally getting the contractors out there next weekend. They’ll get the WiFi working, get the solar tiles installed, and then leave the weekend after.”

“Oh, cool,” Erin said, her ears perking up. "I know the mayor was concerned about it."

“You’ll probably find my letter waiting for you when you get back to your house, asking you to get a place for them at the local inn.”

“Oh, sure. I can do that. Pony beds might be a little on the short side, though. How many will be coming?”

“Four for the solar panels, and six for the WiFi setup. And they’ll be bringing air mattresses, so no worries there,” Maggie said. “You think you have enough bits on hand for that?”

Erin chewed her lower lip for a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah, I should.”

“Well, here,” Maggie said, rummaging around in a desk drawer until she found a cloth bag. She passed it over to Erin, who took it in an upturned hoof. “There’s eight bars and a hundred bits in there. That should cover lodging and food. Try to get receipts for everything, if you can, so we can track it all.”

“Got it,” Erin said as she tucked the bit pouch into her saddlebags. “I should probably get going… I’m not sure how long it will take me to get to the museum, and I don’t want to be late.” She snorted and stamped a hoof. “I probably shouldn't have called my mom and just stuck to sending her an email, like I’d originally intended. I really didn’t think we would talk that long.”

Maggie thought about how she would have felt just getting an email from one of her daughters after that daughter had moved to an entirely different world for a week. “Well, knowing Lynne, I’m sure she preferred the call over the email. Moms never stop worrying about their kids, after all.”

Erin’s ears flattened and she ducked her head sheepishly. “Um, yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

“Well, I suppose I should get back to this budget,” Maggie said, casting a loathing glance at her own tablet and the hateful budgetary analysis contained within. “Don’t forget to send those email confirmations to me.”

“Got it,” Erin said as she slid out of her chair. “I’ll get them to you before I go back across the gateway.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Maggie said.

They said their goodbyes. Maggie stared at the door of her office for a few seconds after Erin left, then sighed and picked up her tablet to begin once again trying to make heads or tails out of her third quarter budgetary requirements.

It was a small town in the middle of nowhere, so far north that there was some dispute if it was even inside the borders of Equestria. As far as the locals were concerned, it could go either way. When things were going well, then the town was independent and Equestria could mind its own business. When things were going poorly, which was more often than not these days, then the Equestrian government wasn't doing their jobs right.

Some ponies would tell you that the name of the town was Trotter’s Mill. Others would tell you that it was called Northreach. The one tavern in the town saw the occasional brawl because of this. In fact, brawls happened often enough that the proprietor of that tavern never bothered replacing the glass in the windows that got broken, instead installing sliding wooden shutters which were left open during business hours on the rare days when the weather was nice enough.

The roads were deeply-rutted with wagon tracks, left there after the rains had turned the streets to mud, which happened every spring. A brown-cloaked mare stepped carefully between the ruts, not wanting to twist an ankle. She had a long way to go, still, and an injury at this stage of her journey was unacceptable.

She didn’t know much about this town. In fact, she didn't know anything about it, other than the name that was on the map she’d purchased three towns back. The map had listed the town’s name as “Hay Junction”, and it was a fortunate thing that she never mentioned that name to anypony who lived there. The resulting fight would likely have lasted for days.

After all, there wasn't much else to do besides fight in this town once the day was done.

Her plan, such as it was, was to find an inn to spend the night. She had a small bag of bits around her neck, and a larger bag secured firmly under her belly. This was a rough countryside, after all. Robbery was a definite possibility. With any luck, any thieves would be satisfied with the smaller bag of bits around her neck and not be bothered to search her.

She’d worked hard for those bits. She wasn't about to let some dirty ruffian take them away.

Her plan was interrupted by the crowd. There were about twelve of them gathered outside of a large notice board, grumbling and griping to each other as they eyed a young pegasus attaching a notice to the board.

She slowed to a halt, eyeing the ponies and occasional griffon warily from under her cowl. In her experience, a muttering crowd was rarely a good thing. Fortunately for her, the crowd’s ire was focused on the young pegasus stallion, who was dressed in a sash of midnight blue and silver.

The mare recognized Princess Luna’s colors when she saw them. Curiosity welled up and, against her better judgement, she approached the scene.

The pegasus was ignoring the crowd, though the way he was twitching his ears and ruffling his feathers indicated that he wasn't unaware of the mood. The large notice was being attached in the center of the board, the pegasus beating the nails in with his steel-shod hoof instead of using a hammer. When he was done, he cast a wary eye over his shoulder, spread his wings, and launched himself into the air.

The mare faded back into a convenient alleyway as the townsponies crowded around the sign. There was arguing, a little bit of shouting, and a scuffle or two. Eventually, everypony moved on, either to their homes or to the tavern, where they could complain loudly about the notice.

The mare stepped out of her hiding place, glancing around to make sure nopony was looking her way. It was clear. With a light step, she trotted up to the notice. It was on creamy white paper with a red scroll-work border and lovely calligraphy. It was a pity that somepony had spat on it.

She read the notice once, quickly. Then, surprised, she read it again more slowly.

The bottom of the notice had the promised address, as well as Princess Luna’s royal seal.

The mare hummed uncertainly, considering her options. On the one hoof, she had a plan already. Granted, it was a plan that had dragged her halfway across Equestria, through tiny little ramshackle towns, and would soon continue into lands unknown—by which she meant unknown by anypony civilized, of course.

On the other hoof, it was entirely possible that she was chasing a fantasy, and would find nothing at the end of her quest aside from bitter disappointment. That was assuming she managed to avoid the robbers, the wolves, the bears, and freezing to death in the bitter cold of a land that hadn't quite realized that it was supposed to be spring.

This Dreamguard, though… A new school of magic. New opportunities. And a chance to be taught by a Princess!

The mare stood, frozen with indecision, in front of the notice board for a good ten minutes. Finally, with a sigh, she let her head droop. Chasing power for power’s sake was one thing, and she was even alright with the potential disappointment that would set in if it turned out she was only chasing shadows.

But she was so very tired, already. The thought of continuing on through such an unpleasant course when a much more appealing opportunity presented itself was simply too much to bear.

Besides, she could get a room in Canterlot that had actual hot running water for a bath.

A light blue hoof reached up and pushed the cowl of her cloak back, revealing a silvery-blue mane perched over a weary but determined face.

“I shall join this ‘Dreamguard’,” the mare said, her voice resolute in spite of the exhaustion she felt. “Just you wait, Twilight Sparkle! I will master this new magic! And then, you will have to acknowledge that the Great and Powerful Trixie is a mare to contend with!”

“Hey! Shut up out there!”

Trixie jumped, letting out a startled squawk. She looked around and noticed, with great discomfort, that very nearly every window she could see had the face of a scowling pony or griffon staring out of it. Each and every one of them was focused on her.

“Trixie believes she should be going,” she muttered, turning away from the notice board and starting to trot away. She heard a door slam open behind her. “With haste!”

She magicked a smoke bomb out of her saddlebags and dropped it behind her as she broke into a run. And, as she galloped away from the town, she started laughing. Maybe this was a sign that her life was finally starting to turn around!

This could be the start of great things, indeed! she decided.

With another laugh, Trixie increased her speed, heading south. Back towards Equestria, where, with any luck, her destiny awaited her.

Author's Notes:

Yay, Trixie!
Don't worry, this won't be her only appearance. She's got a pretty big part to play in this story. Not as much as the Mane 6, of course, but she'll definitely be back. And, yes, this alters her story from Magic Duel. Rather than continuing her quest for the Alicorn Amulet, she's going to go to Canterlot and try out for the Dreamguard.

For Applejack's scene, you can see what happens next (from Big Mac's perspective) in Sunflower: Side Projects, Red Apples chapter 4.
And now, some editing shenanigans:

~~~
BP’s editor’s note:

Imagination is a good thing during writing and editing. But sometimes it can backfire...

“I don’t wanna hear about you doin’ this again. You understand? You need sleep, and you can’t shut yourself away for days to play with a new toy, no matter how fun it is.”

BP: Bad thoughts! No, brain!
Hoopy: Oooh... I didn't think of that connotation...
Lycan: LMAO! Don't hate me, but I downloaded a copy of this doc to read in class. I burst out laughing and startled a few classmates. It was funnier still until my instructor started to get curious... Then it got awkward...

Ekevoo’s editor’s note:

This deserves the light of the day, too:

Brilliant Point: NOW it's creepy? Not the whole teletubbie bunny thing?
Ludicrous Lycan: Hated those things... The L4D2 mod gave me the willies!
Hoopy McGee: I have to go check that out...
Hoopy McGee: WHY DID I CHECK THAT OUT?!

Chapter 14: A very busy weekend, part 2

The world of dreams shifted and swirled around the Infiltrator as it moved, the colors and shapes that represented the real world fuzzy and indistinct. Around it, the Dreamers swarmed through the sky and along the ground, going on their lazy way.

The Infiltrator saw none of that. Though it existed primarily in the dream, its senses were tuned to the real world; every blade of grass, every mote of dust leaving an impression as it etched itself indelibly on the Infiltrator’s mind and soul.

It moved through the shifting dream until it found a place defined by a sense of wrongness, two worlds trying to mesh into one spot. This was the gateway. On the other side, its mission awaited.

The Infiltrator wasn’t capable of fear. It flitted through the gateway without hesitation, as insubstantial as a dream and going unnoticed by any of the beings standing on the other side.

Every sense was wide open, measuring and recording every detail it could find. Some time after it began, a jarring sensation indicated the closing of the gateway. It was now cut off from its home world.

The Infiltrator discovered quickly that the intruders called themselves “human.” Bipedal, with slim-fingered hands and binocular vision. The Infiltrator flitted around, unseen, taking in physical characteristics and noting the differences in height and gender, coloration and clothing. No detail was too small, none went unrecorded.

The Infiltrator tried to interface with the nervous systems of these beings on multiple attempts, slowly and gently so as to avoid notice. For its trouble, it received nothing but chaos and a welter of sensations in return. The humans were simply too alien. It logged these impressions as best it could.

It moved on to the machinery, which existed in amazing abundance and variety. The electron flows that made up what passed for the “minds” of the machines were found to be cold, inflexible and utterly logical. Some form of thought moved through the electronic switches and relays, but it was beyond the Infiltrator’s ability to decipher it at all. Again, it simply recorded what it found.

Progress was slow. There was a great deal of information to record. With very little in the way of context to determine what was important what was not, it resorted to recording very nearly everything.

The day faded to night as it toured the complex it found itself in. The structures were made of metals, woods and a variety of shaped silicates, some solid and some transparent. Electrical currents surged everywhere, powering lights, doorways and other devices.

Surrounding the complex was a wilderness. It recognized alien varieties of trees, plants and insect life. Directives implanted in the Infiltrator’s consciousness dismissed these as momentarily unimportant, and it returned to the complex to gather more information.

More data was collected, organized and stored. In one of the smaller structures, there was a small mass, semi-organic and placed in the center of some sort of translucent cage. The Infiltrator studied it, then attempted to access it. Unlike the machines from earlier, this was cold, lifeless and inert. No impressions to be gained. It left to explore further.

It was during the third day of slow, methodical exploration that it found a true oddity. If the Infiltrator had been designed with the capacity to be surprised, it would have been. The Infiltrator studied the new being it found most carefully. It was quadrupedal, with two each of eyes and ears. And, unlike the original beings, this one had a spiralling horn protruding from its head. This one called itself “pony”, specifically a “unicorn pony.”

Of critical importance was the fact that these new unicorn ponies—it eventually found a second one—wore devices containing a small reservoir of aether, which the creatures could manipulate in an extremely flexible fashion. That fact was flagged as critical, as per the Caretaker’s directives.

Again, it tried to interface with the creature that it had found. Again, it received only a chaos of incomprehensible flickering thoughts and emotions, gone too quickly to leave more than the briefest of impressions.

On the fourth day, it had explored the facility as best as it could, and had moved outside once again. It examined trees, grasses and wild plants. It catalogued fungi, viruses and bacteria. Each animal it came across, it studied and then tried to interface with. For the most part, it received even worse results than it had with the beings in the complex. However, it seemed to have an affinity for insect life, particularly those that lived in their underground colonies.

Only so much can be learned from insects, however. Eventually, it moved on, drifting slowly down the side of the mountain.

It was on the sixth day that it felt a familiar sense of convergence. The gateway had been opened once again. The Infiltrator abandoned its cataloging and returned quickly to the complex. The data it had needed to be returned to the Caretaker as quickly as possible.

It was here that the Infiltrator ran into something unforeseen by the methodical instructions left to it by the Caretaker—the gateway led to a different world, one that bled magic into this world the way sunlight filtered through a window.

Through the new portal came a host of creatures, nearly all of them quadrupeds, though some had a pair of wings in addition to the four legs. And, though the Infiltrator did its duty to catalogue each and every one, it was also caught in confusion, unable to determine which course of action to follow next.

Two of its primary directives were in conflict: It was a top priority for it to gather data. It was a top priority for it to retain the ability to return home and report. It needed to gather data from the world on the other side of this new gateway, but it also needed to stay in the current world in order to be able to return to its own.

The Infiltrator was frozen with indecision for nearly two entire days, though it still catalogued everything it could during that time. That new portal remained open throughout. And then, on the third day, something happened that broke the deadlock.

A new type of creature came through, blazing with active magic. The Infiltrator approached, cataloguing everything about this new being that it could detect. Then, as it had with every other life form it had encountered, it tried to interface with the creature’s nervous system.

Disorientation. A sense of falling while staying still. Being compressed and expanded all at once. And then, minds, tens of thousands of them, all of them aware of the Infiltrator’s presence, studying it like a spider might study a fly in it’s web.

One mind stood out amongst the teeming multitude. It was stronger by far, holding the threads of all the other minds in an uncompromising grip. This mind examined the Infiltrator as closely as the Infiltrator had examined the subjects of this world.

And then the mind spoke. The language was unknown, but the concepts came across directly from the other mind, bypassing language completely. It asked a question:

What are you?

Princess Luna’s sitting room often surprised the ponies who visited her chambers. Though, outside of castle staff and guards, there weren’t very many of those who made the effort; being a thousand years out of your own time could make it difficult to adjust and make friends.

The room was circular, typically arranged with low couches, tables and a desk. The ceiling was a hemisphere, painted a sky blue. What had enchanted Luna the most about the room was that it also functioned as a clock; currently, the miniature sun was beginning its descent along a nearly-hidden rail, indicating that it was now getting to be later in the afternoon. The ticking of clockwork was an ever-present background noise, which Luna found somewhat comforting; time was moving with her, now, rather than leaving her behind.

At night, the brightest and most consistent of the stars would make an appearance across the clockwork sky, running across the ceiling along with a mechanical moon that accurately represented the current moon phase, even centuries after it had been built. The room-clock was a work of pure genius, and Luna regretted that she’d never been able to meet the stallion responsible for the design of it.

The nature of the room meant that there were no external windows. If desired, the mechanical sun had an enchanted crystal that would glow at whatever brightness the occupant wished for. This suited Luna well, as she more often used the room for meditation or reading than she did for receiving guests.

Today, though, she had prepared the room for her first student in centuries, making miniscule adjustments to the cushions and tables in between bouts of pacing while glancing at the false sun to estimate the time.

The tea had been brewed, the tiny glazed cakes were arranged on their elegant silver platter, and the candles were lit. Luna was in the process of rearranging the cushions once again when a knock sounded, causing her to half-spread her wings while her heart began climbing up into her throat. The door opened, and Twilight Sparkle came trotting into the room, bringing with her a set of modest saddlebags and an eager smile.

Princess Luna cleared her throat and smoothed her feathers. “Welcome, Twilight Sparkle,” she said with what she hoped was a welcoming smile.

“Thank you, Princess!” Twilight looked around the room, glancing at the candles first, and then the cushions. “Is this where the lessons will take place?”

“For now, yes. Once enough of the applicants are approved, we will move these lessons to a larger venue.” Luna allowed herself a small smile at that. Being a princess meant being able to delegate unpleasant and repetitive tasks, such as reviewing the applications for the Dreamguard that had already begun to pour in. She extended a wing, taking in the circle of cushions with a gesture. “Please, have a seat wherever you like.”

The young unicorn folded her legs underneath her as she lay down on the cushion. Luna knelt down on a similar cushion directly across from Twilight. She looked up, noting with some surprise that Twilight’s horn was glowing, and that she had already armed herself with several blank scrolls, quills and ink-pots from her saddlebags, all suspended in her lavender aura.

Luna chuckled. “You may put those away, Twilight. You will be learning by doing, not by writing.”

Twilight’s eyes widened while her ears drooped. “I… I won’t be taking notes?”

“No need, though of course you may write down your impressions after the lesson is over.” Luna’s mouth curled up in a small smile. “Dream magic is taught by doing, not by reading.”

“Oh...” Twilight somehow managed to pack a great deal of uncertainty and disappointment into that one syllable. After a moment of hesitation, the scrolls started rolling back up as the inkwells capped themselves.

A rising panic in Luna’s throat prompted her to cough uncomfortably. She’d barely begun, and now her sister’s student was already disappointed in the lesson she was providing.

"Ah... well, perhaps it would be appropriate for me to explain, briefly, what the Dreamrealm actually is. You could take notes on that. Would that be sufficient?"

A look of pure joy suffused Twilight's face as she broke into a beaming smile. Her horn glowed, and once again her stationery made an appearance. Luna eyed the quills poised eagerly over parchment with a wary eye.

"This will simply be a summary, Twilight. There are several books from my private section of the Royal Library that I can assign as reading for further detail. Is that acceptable?"

Twilight's eyes widened at the mention of books, followed by an eager squeak at the mention of a "private section". She gave an eager nod.

"Very well." Luna broke out a quill and paper, quickly scrawling down the names of several books. Two of those were well-preserved copies of works she had written herself a millenia ago. She signed it, then stamped it with her personal seal before passing it over to Twilight, who took it with a gleeful smile, scanned it briefly, then stowed it carefully in her saddlebag.

When Twilight was done securing the list of books, Luna cleared her throat and began speaking, trying not to be unnerved by the scratching of Twilight's quill as she took notes.

"There is the physical world, the one which we inhabit and see with our waking eyes. There is the magical field, which encompasses all life and energy that make up our world. And, between those two, there is the realm of dreams. Every awareness, from the most simple to the most complex, has a place there. If it dreams, it has a presence.

"I can not tell you if the Dreamrealm already existed before consciousness, or if consciousness somehow called it into being. All I can tell you is that, as long as there have been minds capable of dreaming, there has been a Dreamrealm, connecting every sentient creature to one another. It is a place where our consciousness roams."

The scratching quills stopped. Luna looked over to see that Twilight had raised a hoof. "Yes, Twilight?"

"Do you mean 'subconscious'?" Twilight asked. "You know... dreams, and all?"

Luna smiled. "The subconscious is a subset of the consciousness. It is often the most open part of a pony's mind. However, it is not the subconscious mind which will be the target of my lessons. To learn dream magic, I must teach you how to reach it with the conscious mind."

"Oooh..!" Twilight said as the scribbling resumed.

Luna smiled. Teaching her sister's protegee was going better than she had thought it would. "A word of warning, Twilight Sparkle. The Dreamrealm is a world all its own, with its own rules and dangers. There are creatures that can live there without ever once touching the physical world. I have visited there nearly every night that I have lived, and I have seen things of such unimaginable beauty that it staggered my very soul. I have also seen things of such unimaginable horror that even the thought of it today makes me wish to hide myself.

"Beauty and danger often go side-by-side in the Dreamrealm. Sometimes they are the same thing. You must promise me before we begin that you will not enter this place on your own until I tell you that you are ready.”

Twilight gulped visibly and nodded. "I promise, Princess."

"While we are alone together, you may call me simply 'Luna'," Luna replied with an encouraging smile. Twilight returned a bashful smile of her own. "Now, I believe that is sufficient notes to get you started, along with the reading I will assign you later. Shall we get started?"

"Um..." Twilight glanced at the scant few lines she'd written on her parchment. "Are you sure?"

“Trust me,” Luna said quickly, “there is much to learn, but you won’t be in the correct frame of mind to learn it if you are writing at the same time.”

Twilight blinked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Luna replied with a nod. “Writing requires concentration, whereas Dream Magic, at least in the beginning, requires an inward focus. A much different kind of focus than writing requires. Are you prepared to begin?”

Any hesitation or disappointment that might have been in Twilight’s expression vanished instantly, as the mare perked up and her eyes widened. “Yes!”

“Very good. First, we must attend to your breathing…”

“Cloudsdale, Cloudsdale!” Dinky sang out, standing on her hind hooves with her little muzzle pressed up against the portal set into the airship’s passenger section. Her rear hooves pranced on the back seat, her tail swishing excitedly. “I can see it! Can you see it?”

“Yes!” Erin exclaimed, her own muzzle pressed against another porthole. “Oh, wow, it’s amazing!”

The airship was on its final approach, coming in towards a dock-like structure that was constructed out of what Erin recognized to be cloudstone. The fact that they’d been approaching the city had been evident for a while now. The great mass of clouds had first been spotted within minutes of their departure from Canterlot, but now they filled the entire sky. They’d been passing clusters of cloud-homes—somewhat similar to Rainbow Dash’s—for the last ten minutes or so, which Erin assumed were some sort of cloud-based suburbs.

But it wasn’t until the airship began to turn for its final approach that Erin could clearly make out the entirety of the city itself. Erin gaped as the city came into view, her eyes flicking everywhere as she tried to take it all in at once.

Great masses of white cloud stretched as far as she could see, some of them natural and others sculpted and shaped to make buildings and roadways. Waterfalls, some made of what looked like liquid rainbows, cascaded towards the ground from many different locations, often diffusing into nothingness before they reached the ground.

The city wasn't made up of a singular mass of clouds as Erin had expected. Instead, there were “islands” of various sizes and shapes, many of them connected by bridges made of cloudstone. Some of the cloud islands were higher than others, making Cloudsdale a multi-layered city.

What amazed Erin the most was the fact that there were apparently parks with actual grass and trees here and there. For a moment, the exact how of it escaped her until she realized that it would be easy enough to pile some soil on top of cloudstone in order to grow plants.

For Erin, all of this only served to make her enthusiasm grow. The airship, which had seemed fast enough before, now seemed painfully slow. As the dock crept closer and closer, Erin began fidgeting at the window, muttering under her breath and trying to will the airship to move faster.

“Kind of eager to get there, huh?” Ditzy asked. Unlike Erin and Dinky, the grey pegasus was sitting calmly in her seat, though she had a fond smile for her daughter’s antics.

“Ha, you could say that!” Erin managed to tear her eyes away from the vista before her to flash a grin at her newest friend. “It’s even more amazing than I thought it would be!”

Several other passengers chuckled at that, and a couple of them snorted derisively, but Erin couldn't even begin to care. Cloudsdale was just outside!

When the airship finally docked, Erin couldn’t stop herself from prancing in place. Dinky picked up on her enthusiasm and was doing a little dance of her own, much to Ditzy’s amusement.

At long last, the doors were opened, letting in a gust of cold air. Erin joined the general rush of passengers making their way out past a pair of unicorns, who were busily casting a cloud-walking spell on every non-pegasus who exited the ship. Erin, still in her green sundress, considered telling them not to bother. Then she remembered how far down the ground was and decided to keep her mouth shut.

The spell tingled, causing the hairs on her coat to stand on edge. Under her dress, her wings twitched and her feathers ruffled. Erin shook her head and trotted outside, her hooves bouncing along the springy cloudstone. The wind was the first thing she noticed as it tangled up in her mane and snapped at the hem of her dress. Ditzy and Dinky were right behind her. The three of them stopped a little ways out, standing off to one side in order to let the other passengers past them.

“Well, I think we’ll head to my aunt’s house, first,” Ditzy said as she tied the string of her white straw hat under her chin to keep it from blowing off. “And then we can go out and see the sights.”

“Sounds good!” Erin replied.

One of the first things that Erin noticed was that very few ponies actually walked in Cloudsdale. At least, not for very long. They would stand around chatting, sure. But as soon as they wanted to actually get somewhere they’d take off and start flying. She also learned to stay well away from the edges of the clouds they walked on. There were rarely safety railings, and the drop to the sparkling lake below caused Erin a bout of nauseous vertigo.

The three of them walked off together, moving slowly and talking the whole way. This suited Erin just fine, as she was too busy gaping at all the sights around her. Then she realized that she’d forgotten to take pictures and pulled out her tablet.

Dinky and Ditzy both stared at the device, having never seen anything like it before, and Erin had to take a quick break from her sightseeing in order to summarize some of the functions of it. Their pace slowed even further, as Erin stopped every few feet to order her tablet to snap a photo, or to take a video of a rainbow falls or flying pegasi.

It was worth it, though. Both Ditzy and Dinky were thrilled to see themselves on the tablet, and not just in photos. Erin managed to capture a video of Dinky singing an adorable little song about “dancing dancey clouds”.

“Is there any way I can get a copy of that?” Ditzy asked. “I have an old projector that works, uh… sometimes. Can it be put on film, somehow?”

“Hmm… maybe,” Erin said. “I can check on it next week, if you want?”

“That would be great, thanks!”

Erin smiled, knowing that there was no chance that she’d bother converting Dinky’s little dance and song to any type of film, especially since she had no idea if Earth and Equestria had compatible film formats. But she couldn't tell Ditzy that she had her own tablet on the way, or it would completely ruin the surprise.

They took some more pictures as the sun crept steadily lower. Finally, Ditzy sighed. “This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would. We should really get to my aunt’s house.”

“Oh, sorry,” Erin replied. “I’m just a little excited!”

“I hadn’t guessed,” Ditzy said wryly.

“I hadn’t guessed, neither,” Dinky added.

The three of them shared a laugh as they walked the path that would eventually lead to their destination.

There was a spot on Twilight’s back that was itching. Right in the center, at the base of her neck. She cracked an eye open and looked across the circle of cushions on the floor. Across from her, Luna was breathing slowly and steadily with her eyes closed.

Twilight decided to risk it. Her horn glowed a soft lavender, lifting up one of the quills from her saddlebags and bringing it back around behind her. A moment later, the nib of the quill was scritching delightfully along the itchy spot.

“You’ve lost focus once again,” Luna noted without opening her eyes.

Twilight swallowed a guilty yelp of surprise and dropped the quill. “Sorry, Princess! I had an itch. It was distracting me.”

“I understand, Twilight Sparkle. But to enter the Dreamrealm, you must be able to put physical sensations behind you.” Luna still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she did smile slightly. “I know you can do this. You are a talented mare.”

Twilight glowed briefly before forcing her joy down. Clearing her throat, she settled back down on her cushion, sitting on her rump with her forelegs planted in front of her. It was a pose she could hold comfortably for hours, according to Luna. And, for the first few minutes, that had seemed to be the case. Then the twitches and aches had started, along with the itches.

Her back left leg started to feel uncomfortable, but she stifled the urge to shift her weight. Instead, she focused on her breathing. A deep breath in, hold, exhale through the mouth. Then again. This same pattern repeated, with the exact rhythm Princess Luna had instructed her to follow, with Twilight counting the time off between the different parts of the exercise while trying to think of nothing else.

Breathe in through the nostrils and hold. Exhale through the mouth.. Breathe in, hold, exhale… Am I doing this right? she wondered as she kept breathing in the same pattern. There has to be more to it than just this, but Luna hasn’t said anything yet. How will I know without her telling me? Maybe she has some special sense of when the time is right.

Maybe I should look and see if she… No, I shouldn’t look. Breathe in, hold, exhale.... Again. Okay. Good. I’m doing well. I just wish that my leg didn’t feel like it was going asleep. Maybe Luna wouldn’t notice if I just… no, of course she would. Concentrate, Twilight! Just breathe. Right.

I wonder what it’s like to walk in the Dreamrealms? There aren’t any books on it that I ever found, at least not that described what it was actually like to be there. I wonder if Princess Luna’s books will tell me… oh, shoot, I opened my eyes.

Okay, Twilight. Focus on the breathing, just like Princess Luna said. Don’t think of anything. Especially don’t think about how your tail is going numb. Good. Just breathe. Good.

I sure hope I’m doing this right…

It seemed like hours of this to Twilight before Luna finally sighed and stood. Twilight opened her eyes and looked at the Lunar Princess. A little thrill passed through her as she saw that Luna was smiling at her.

“Well, I think that’s all the further we can go for now,” Luna said. “I was hoping that I could guide you into the Dreamrealms today, but perhaps next time.”

Any good feelings that Twilight had felt suddenly dried up and vanished. It felt like the floor had opened up beneath her and sent her tumbling. “I… I failed?” she asked, her voice small and disbelieving.

“Nay, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna intoned, shaking her head. “If anypony failed today, t’was I.” Oddly enough, that didn’t help Twilight to feel any better. “There is a key to getting your mind to relax, I know there is. However, breathing exercises is apparently not it. Or, at least, not without further practice.”

Twilight’s lips felt numb as she spoke. “I don’t understand. I breathed just like you said to! I know I did! I timed it and everything.”

“The breathing is but one aspect, Twilight Sparkle. The key is to achieve the correct state of mind.” Luna smiled and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Your mind races. I could almost feel it galloping along the entire time we were attempting to meditate.”

“My leg was feeling a little stiff,” Twilight said defensively. “And my tail went numb. And, okay, I had some itches, but—”

“That was not all, Twilight.” The gentle way Princess Luna said that brought the sting of tears to Twilight’s eyes. It sounded like dissapointment to her. “You were concentrating when I told you to relax.”

“But you told me to focus on my breathing!” Twilight stood up, her heart lurching. “That’s what I did! I focused and I breathed!”

Now Luna frowned. It was just a tiny one, barely noticeable, but Twilight still flinched back, expecting more disappointment from the princess.

“Yes, but only until it becomes automatic,” Luna said. “At that point, you should begin to enter a meditative state that would allow me to guide you through your first steps into the Dreamrealms.”

“But I can try again! I know I was close. Please, Princess Luna, I know I can—”

“‘Tis enough for one day, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. To Twilight, it felt like her heart was dissolving. “As I said, the fault is not yours. I shall consider alternate methods of getting you into the correct state of mind. Perhaps music. Do you like music?”

“I do,” Twilight said, her voice sounding small and tinny in her ears.

“Then, for our next session, I shall bring in some players. Something soothing and repetitive, I think.” Luna nodded. “Yes. That may work.”

“Okay,” Twilight replied.

“Worry not, Twilight Sparkle. Everypony is different in this way. We shall succeed eventually, I am certain!” Luna’s horn glowed, and the door to her sitting room opened. “In the meanwhile, continue to practice your breathing exercises in your spare time. Being able to enter a meditative state in that fashion is by far the most simple. You may not always have music available, hmm?”

“Yes, Princess,” Twilight mumbled. “Thank you, Princess.”

She left the room. For a time, Twilight simply wandered, her mind running over the entire session, trying to find the flaw that had kept her from succeeding. She didn’t know how much later it was when she finally came back to herself, but when she did, she found herself in front of a very familiar door.

“Of course I’d end up here,” Twilight said with a chuckle. Her horn lit up and opened the door to the Royal Canterlot Library. Twenty minutes later, Twilight was sitting at one of the large black oak tables with a stack of books, all of the ones on Luna’s list as well as several on the subject of meditation. The first of them, A Beginner’s Guide to Meditation, was cracked open in front of her.

“Equestria to Rosie. Come in, Rosie.”

Rose Quartz blinked and looked around at the solidly-built earth pony mare next to her. It took a moment for her to remember where they were: in the Harmonics compound’s reception area, on the Earth side of the gateway.

“Oh, good, you are awake,” Mintie said. “I was starting to get worried!”

Rose Quartz shook her head to clear it. “Sorry, Mintie. I was, uh… I was just a little distracted, is all.”

“No kidding?” Mintie nudged her with a shoulder, which sent the much smaller unicorn staggering. “You’ve been out of it since you got back from that vacation of yours.” She leaned in and whispered into Rose’s ear, “Are you sure you didn’t meet a nice stallion while on vacation?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Really? No eyes meeting across a crowded buffet line? No whirlwind romance?” Mintie grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “No ‘making the six-legged pony’?”

Rose stared at her for a moment until Mintie’s implication sunk in. Then she reacted the only way she knew how. “What?! No!” Rose glanced around, acutely aware of all the surrounding humans and ponies staring at her. In a fierce whisper, she added, “I had a plain old boring vacation. Nothing happened, I swear. Stop being vulgar.”

“Well, something happened, kiddo,” Mintie said. Then she shrugged and began walking away. “Eh, tell me about him later if you want.”

Rose stared after her, gaping incredulously after the infuriating mare before trotting to catch up. “There’s no ‘him’, okay? Can we drop it?”

“Well, why else would you have spent the last five minutes staring blankly at a wall?” Mintie asked.

“It wasn’t five minutes, and I had something on my mind,” Rose replied. “Look, can we just stop talking about this?”

“Okay, fine.” Mintie chuckled. “I bet he’s cute, though.”

“Ugh.” Rosie trotted ahead, leaving the irritating mare behind her. The problem was, she really was having a hard time concentrating at the moment. But the last pony she wanted to know about it was Mintie. She was better off being by herself to work things through.

Fortunately, that wasn’t difficult to arrange. The humans had set up a buffet table of light vegetarian snacks. Mintie made a beeline over to the table and began helping herself, heaping piles of fruit, cheese and crackers onto a tray. Rose sighed at the sight of it. As obnoxious as the mare could be, Rose knew for a fact that Mintie cared about her very deeply.

Still, she needed some time to herself. Something unexpected had happened after the two of them had crossed through the gateway and onto Earth, and Rose needed some peace and quiet to work her way through it.

It was only a few minutes later when Mintie approached her, walking three-legged and with the heavily-laden tray of snacks balanced in her right forehoof. Rose shook her head as the earth pony offered the tray to her.

“Well, I hope that whatever’s on your mind hasn’t made you forget anything,” Mintie said. “They’re about to close the gateway until next week.”

Rose grimaced. A little more time would have been nice, but it wasn’t like she could do anything to convince the humans to leave the gateway open just for her sake. She forced a smile onto her face and tried to sound unworried. “I’m pretty sure I packed everything I needed.”

“Well, that’s something I always admired about you, Rosie. Always so organized, never missing anything.”

There was something in Mintie’s expression that seemed far too amused. Rose cocked her head and studied the mare, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Do I have something on my face?” she ventured to guess.

“Nope.” Mintie’s gleefulness cranked up another couple of notches.

“Then… I didn’t forget any of the paperwork, did I?”

“You’re on the wrong track,” Mintie replied. “Think… more magical.”

“Magical?”

Mintie’s voice was bubbling with laughter when she replied. “You forgot to pick up a torc so you can cast magic, you ninny!”

Rose froze in place as icy panic instantly overwhelmed her. Her head snapped around towards the gateway, but it was already too late. She could feel it close. The magic that had been flooding into the Earth from Equestria quickly began dwindling to nothing.

“I need a torc,” Rose said, desperately prancing in place. There were a large number of fully-charged torcs packed into her personal luggage, but the humans had moved those to the room they’d be staying in tonight. Much too far away. The panic surged up, overwhelming her reason. “Mintie, I need a torc!”

The amusement faded from Mintie’s eyes, replaced with genuine concern. “Hey, hey, don’t freak out about it. It’s okay. I know the humans have some on this side, we can get you one.”

“No, you don’t understand!” The last wisps of Equestrian magic were already gone. Rose began burning through her personal reserves at a truly alarming rate. “I need one now! Let me use yours.”

“What? No!” Mintie backed away. “We can get one for you later, it’s not a big deal.”

“That won’t work!” Rose’s horn lit up, her aura reaching towards the torc around Mintie’s neck.

“Hey, quit it,” Mintie snapped, arching her neck to keep the torc in place. “You’re scaring me. I said we can get one for you—”

The attempt at telekinesis drained what little reserves Rose had left. Her spells failed, both the telekinesis and the other one. Green fire rippled down Rose’s body, ripping away the illusion of the light pink unicorn mare with the lavender mane.

For a tense moment, Mintie just stared at her with huge, shocked eyes. No one else in the room seemed to have noticed, yet. If she could just get Mintie’s torc—

The silver tray tumbled off of Mintie’s hoof, landing on the floor with a resounding clang and scattering fruit and cubes of cheese all over the floor. If that weren’t enough to gain everyone’s attention, Mintie’s horrified shriek would certainly have done so.

All activity in the room ground to a complete stop. The changeling that had called itself Rose Quartz looked around with glowing blue eyes, noting that pretty much everyone was staring directly at it.

The changeling forced a smile and addressed the room at large. “Um, hi?”

What are you? the strongest of the voices asked.

The Infiltrator found itself momentarily at a loss. There was nothing in the Caretaker’s directives which indicated what it should do in this type of situation. The creature it had interfaced with, currently magically disguised as a unicorn, seemed to be overwhelmed as well, staring blankly at the wall in front of it while other creatures went about their business.

Still, the directives required it to gather information. Communication could provide information. Thus resolved, the Infiltrator replied.

This one is named ‘Infiltrator’.

Amusement rolled back towards it across the connected minds. Infiltrator? Indeed. That can be an apt description of ourselves, as well. I am called Chrysalis. Or Queen. Whichever you prefer.

The Infiltrator sent a thought back. There is no preference, only data.

Curiosity came through the link.

You are not native to my world the Queen noted. And I doubt you are from the humans’ world. What is your purpose?

Gather data. Return home. Report data to Caretaker.

There was a long silence. What is the Caretaker’s purpose in gathering data?

Eventual expulsion of foreign elements from home world.

I see.

There was another long silence. The Infiltrator waited. It didn’t occur to it to do anything else.

A gift for you, then, the Queen said. Information began flooding the link; facts regarding biology, magic, geography and more, all relating to the world on the other side of the new portal. Consider it a gesture of goodwill. And when you return to your Caretaker, tell him this: the humans are strong enough on their own, but they have an allegiance with the ponies. This makes both the ponies and the humans much stronger, and much more dangerous. If the Caretaker wishes to aid me, I will aid him in return. I can drive a wedge between humans and ponies. But I will not do it for free. We must discuss a price. Tell him that, and then return with your answer.

Message received and recorded, the Infiltrator replied.

Good. In that case, release my drone. It’s already starting to draw attention to itself.

Understood.

The Infiltrator released its hold on the drone that it had interfaced with. A moment later, one of the ponies walked up to the drone and said, “Equestria to Rosie. Come in, Rosie.”

Chapter 15: Trials

After the gateway closed, the Gateway Office in the Canterlot Royal Gardens quickly returned to its normal quiet routine. The small building, just hours ago bustling with activity, now seemed unnaturally still to the few occupants remaining. The stained glass murals set into the top of the building were all dark, as the sun had set hours before. The small fire in the fireplace provided enough heat to drive the chill of early spring away.

The light grey unicorn behind the reception desk, a stallion clerk by the name of Silver Scribe, hummed softly to himself as he sorted some papers with his magic. So much filing to do, especially with that wave of students that had gone through from both sides. The forms would be picked up by Immigration Control tomorrow, and he was determined to not let a single one through with any mistakes. At least, not with any mistakes that were his fault.

The two Royal Guards assigned to this shift, a unicorn and a pegasus, were relaxing in the lounge area while chatting softly with each other. Princess Celestia had ordered that the Gateway Office had to be staffed every hour of every day, even though it was only busy when the gateway was open.

So far, everypony expected this to be another quiet night. That is, up until a familiar hum started up. Silver Scribe stood up from his desk, regarding the crystal spires that framed the gateway warily. The guards also stood, coming quickly to attention.

The gateway to Earth snapped open. Silver braced himself. The agreement was that the gateway would stay closed during the week, with the exception of emergencies. I hope none of the students are hurt, he thought as he chewed worriedly on his lower lip.

Silver’s speculation was cut off as a human male in a charcoal-grey suit stalked through the gateway, his face set into a stern scowl. He held up a picture ID. The unicorn gave it a close look, noting with some discomfort as the human’s coat gaped open that he had one of those “gun” weapons in a shoulder holster.

“Marcus Weiss, head of security for Project Harmonics,” the man said briskly by way of introduction.

“How can I help you, Mister Weiss?” Silver Scribe asked, unable to stop a nervous stomp of his hind hoof.

“You can let your Princess know that we have a problem,” the human said, scowling. “There’s a damned changeling on Earth.”

“Fascinating,” Raka said as she stared raptly at the monitor. “Please tell me I’ll get to examine it.”

She was in an observation room, along with Marcus Weiss. Also there was Maggie Henson, who was vainly trying to smother yawns behind her hand. There were chairs, but none of the room’s occupants were seated.

Marcus, a stocky man in his fifties with close-cropped grey hair, snorted and shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you or anyone else near that thing.” He rubbed at the twisted scar along his jaw with an index finger as he scowled at the monitor. “Not until we can be sure it isn’t lying about being unable to manipulate our minds without magic.”

The changeling was stretched out on a bench in small room that had initially been intended to hold potentially-dangerous samples from foreign worlds. The room had been quickly cleared out, leaving only the cameras and the bench that was the room’s sole concession to comfort. The only exit was a heavy steel door, outside which were a pair of armed Harmonics security guards.

Raka let out a disappointed grunt and ran a delicate finger over the monitor. “A whole new species. It looks almost insectile, but I really doubt that it is. And those eyes! They’re beautiful!”

A derisive laugh from Marcus pulled Raka’s attention away from the monitor. “Creepy, you mean.”

“Fascinating,” Raka countered. “The eyes glow, Mister Weiss. Through what mechanism? And how does that not interfere with its vision? Do they even see the same way we do?”

Maggie sighed. “I’m more interested in knowing how many others came through that we didn’t catch,” she said.

“Ah,” Raka said, rocking back on her heels while rubbing a hand across the short hair on the back of her head. She hadn’t thought of that. “Finding out if our visitors are changeling or pony could be a problem.”

“Not much of one.” Marcus folded his arms over his chest. “We just find each pony that came through and take away their torcs for an hour or two. I’m more worried that any changelings that came through might disappear on us.”

“We have to assume they can change into human form as well.” Raka grimaced, adding, “We just don’t know enough about them as a species.”

“They’ll be outed eventually,” Maggie said. “We control the torcs, after all. Without magic, the changelings can’t maintain a transformation.”

“Wrong,” Raka replied. She scratched absently at a dry patch of skin on her arm as she watched the changeling on the monitor. “We know they can metabolise love. And, according to what little information the Equestrians have already given us, they can use that love for either sustenance or to power their magic.” She offered a wan smile to the horrified Marcus. “After all, their queen was able to eat enough love that she was able to go a round with Celestia herself, and win.”

“Damnation,” Marcus said, staring off into space. “So, assume that changelings can take the place of someone who is very well-loved. You think they could maintain a disguise indefinitely?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Raka replied. “I think we have to assume it's possible, though.” The two stood in silence for a long moment. “Any chance we can get some Equestrian experts over to help with this?”

Marcus grunted. “I forwarded a request for some more information on changelings when I went through the gateway an hour ago. Hopefully Canterlot will pass along what they know.”

Rakka watched the changeling for a while longer. A frown pulled down the corners of her mouth as she saw it shivering in its concrete cell. “Any chance we could turn the heat up in there?”

Marcus turned and stared at her as if she’d asked him to make a balloon animal. “What?”

“The poor thing is shivering,” she said, pointing at the monitor. “No need to keep it miserable.”

“No need to make it comfortable, either,” Marcus pointed out.

Raka scowled at the head of security, preparing a scathing reply. Maggie got there first.

“It’s been docile enough since we found it, Marcus,” Maggie said. “Surely that deserves something of a reward. I’ll get facilities to turn the heat up a little in there.”

“They aren’t to go in the room, Maggie,” Marcus said sternly. “I’m firm on that.”

“They won’t need to,” Maggie replied. “We’ve got heating elements running through the walls, and I can turn them up from here.” She leaned forward and pressed the button for the intercom. The little changeling on the monitor jumped as a loud click echoed through its room, followed by Maggie’s voice. “You seem uncomfortable. Is the room too cold?”

The changeling looked around, finally setting eyes on one of the cameras. It nodded.

“You can talk,” Maggie said with a hint of wry humor in her voice. “I can hear you.”

This seemed to surprise the changeling, which drew its head back and blinked several times. “Yes, I am cold,” it said eventually.

“Okay. We’re going to turn the heat up a little bit. If it gets too warm, let us know.” Maggie released the intercom and leaned back.

“I don’t like this,” Marcus said. “For all we know, it can do its mind-control thing with just its voice. We shouldn’t even talk to it until we get more information from Canterlot.”

Raka patted the man and smiled. “You worry too much, Marcus.”

“It’s my job to worry,” Marcus replied shortly. He turned to scowl once again at the changeling in the monitors. “And, apparently, I didn’t worry enough.”

Contrary to what many ponies might believe, the majority of a Princess’ time presiding over her “court” was not spent in the actual throne room. For the most part, individual petitioners would schedule appointments, which would take place in one of the many much more comfortable conference rooms, antechambers or reception rooms strewn about the palace.

The door to one of these reception rooms flew open, revealing a richly-dressed earth pony with a panicked expression on his face. The stallion fled, pursued by the thunderous scowl etched across Princess Luna’s features.

“Odious little windbag,” Luna growled.

Her personal assistant for the day, on semi-permanent loan from Celestia’s administrative staff, lit her horn and closed the door, though not before the stallion’s ears flicked back upon hearing the Princess’ statement. Clearing her throat, the dark-maned unicorn nodded towards the proposal left on the low table, surrounded by the devastated remains of various appetizers.

“Would you like me to read through his proposal and provide a summary, Princess?”

“Yes, Raven. Thank you.” Princess Luna’s wings settled back to her sides as her breathing slowed. Her feathers ruffled and began to settle. “I imagine I was a little harsh on him.”

As it wasn’t quite a question, Raven had apparently decided to treat the statement as rhetorical. Instead of answering, she floated the thick stack of bound pages into her saddlebag.

“Still, if I hear one more pony state some variation on how Celestia would have done things differently…” Luna considered for a moment. “Do we still put ponies in the stocks, these days?”

“Not typically, Princess,” Raven replied smoothly. “I believe that particular practice fell out of favor… oh, I want to say four hundred years ago.”

“I see.” Luna’s scowl faded to a light frown as she regarded the secretary. So far, nothing she’d said or done had so much as ruffled Raven’s implacable veneer of professionalism. Celestia had trained her well. “Seems a tragedy.”

Again, Raven ignored the remark. “I should have a summary ready by tomorrow morning, Princess.”

“If you would be so kind, Raven,” Luna replied. “Pray, tell me what is next on the day’s itinerary, which I swear gets longer every time I glance away from it.”

“Well, Chancellor Fussbudget of the Ministry of Finance sends his regrets and asks that the budget review meeting be rescheduled until tomorrow. Then there’s—”

Whatever Raven was about to say was cut off as the door was rudely slammed open. An armored unicorn came through a moment later, a grim look on his face. Luna recognized the dusky grey stallion immediately, of course. She had promoted him to be the captain of her personal Lunar Guard just a few days ago. His yellow eyes and black mane were a clear indication of the nacht pony blood in his veins. Somewhere in his ancestry could be found at least one of the rare bat-winged pegasi.

“Captain Feldspar,” Luna said evenly. “Something urgent, I take it?”

“Yes, Princess,” the captain replied, his voice clipped and even. “The humans have reopened the gateway. There is a changeling on Earth.”

Well, at least that takes care of the day’s schedule, Luna thought wryly. “Captured or free?”

“Captured,” the captain said. “The humans are requesting aid in the form of both intelligence on changeling abilities, and in the form of magic capable of restraining it.”

Luna nodded, moving towards the door. “I shall meet with them immediately.” She stopped in front of the door, frowning. The captain hadn’t moved. “Captain, step aside.”

“With all due respect…” Feldspar drew himself up. “No, Princess.”

The refusal shocked Luna enough that she took a step back. “No?”

“I can’t allow you to go to Earth. Not while I’m your captain.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, though she managed to keep her ears from laying back. “That can be arranged. I am not used to having my orders countermanded.”

“Earth is too big of a security risk for a Princess,” Feldspar said. His voice was tight, but his eyes were steady. “They could close the gateway behind you, and you would be entirely at their mercy.”

“I am no helpless filly,” Luna said, her brows knitting and tail flicking as her irritation built.

“Very true,” the captain replied. “At least, not while your torc still has an active store of magic in it. Once that runs out, though, you would be helpless. And we would have no way of retrieving you.”

Luna opened her mouth, prepared to snap at him. What he said had a ring of truth to it, however. She was entirely reliant on humanity’s newly-acquired technology to ensure her safe return to Equestria.

“The humans are our allies,” she reminded the captain.

“And I am grateful for that,” Captain Feldspar replied. “And I found much to be impressed about as I read up on their history. That doesn’t change the nature of the risk.”

“I understand your point, Captain. But we’ve never seen cause to distrust the humans yet. I believe I will be safe.”

“It wouldn’t have to be a deliberate act. An accident of some sort could leave you just as stranded as a deliberate action.” He looked up at her, then, pleading clear in his eyes. “Princess, if you were lost in the Griffon Kingdom, we could at least mount a rescue mission. As it is, we have no way of venturing to Earth. You must remain here. For the sake of all Equestria.”

Luna stared at him, considering. He had a valid point, she decided. Eventually, she nodded. “Very well. Would you be willing to go in my place?”

Captain Feldspar saluted. “It would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Gather up any intelligence we have on the changelings. See if any experts from the college would like to go along to render advice.”

“Yes, Princess.” He saluted again and turned to leave.

“One last thing, Captain,” Luna said, stopping him in his tracks. The captain looked back over his shoulder at her. “Let Maggie Henson know that it is past time for the humans to keep their promise to build a Harmonics facility in Equestria. We look forward to having one soon.”

“Yes, Princess,” Captain Feldspar repeated before trotting briskly away.

Luna sighed and sat down. The first official day of governmental transition, and already she was dealing with changelings and obstinate captains. What else could possibly go wrong?

Raven chose that moment to clear her throat. “Well, now that that is out of the way, the next thing on the schedule is…”

Luna sighed and rubbed her temple with a hoof. Being in charge hadn’t changed much in the thousand years she’d been gone. A Princess she may be, but even she had to bow to the Almighty Schedule if she wished for the nation to run smoothly.

The containment room was twenty feet per side with walls made of steel-reinforced concrete poured two feet thick. The door was solid steel and was barred from the outside. The only furniture was in the form of a heavy steel bench bolted solidly into the concrete floor. Cameras in each corner covered every square inch of the room.

At least the room was more comfortable, now that it was warmer. The changeling had managed to stop shivering, at least. It hadn’t been fooled, though. Kindness was something other creatures only showed to changelings when they were disguised. Every changeling knew that.

At some point, the changeling sensed a faint taste of magic and deduced that the gateway to Equestria had opened once again. The changeling absorbed as much magic as it could, though it refrained from using it. A disguise would be unlikely to fool the humans while it was so closely observed, after all, and would likely make the humans hostile.

Time passed at an incredibly slow rate. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. And, though the gateway to Canterlot was once again open, no other changelings were attempting to make contact. With a shudder, the changeling realized that it had probably already been written off as dead.

For the first time in its life, the changeling was utterly, completely alone. It was an interesting experience, and one that would have been almost enjoyable if it weren’t for the sense of impending doom that it felt. The changeling had been told, in gruesome detail, what fates likely waited in store for it should the mission fail. Starvation was the least of its worries. In the deafening silence of the concrete room, it ran through every possible torture it faced. It had just begun contemplating live dissection when the door opened, startling it out of its macabre reflection.

A mismatched pair of figures came through the open door, which shut the moment they were both through. The first figure was a human in a dark suit. The second was a unicorn of the Royal Guard in black lacquered armor. Emotions radiated from them both in a dense cloud, mixing and swirling, making it difficult to tell for certain which of them was feeling which emotions. Not that it mattered, really. The emotion with the greatest presence was the sour tang of fear mixed with loathing.

“Straighten up,” the unicorn snapped.

The changeling realized that it was cringing away from the pair of them and forced itself to a somewhat more upright position.

“I am Captain Feldspar, of Princess Luna’s guard,” the unicorn said, his voice blunt. The changeling didn’t need to be able to read emotions to sense the distaste coming off of him.

“Marcus Weiss,” the human said in a similarly terse voice. “Head of security here at Harmonics.”

There was a pause, a moment of dreadful anticipation. The changeling waited through it, eventually becoming aware that they were waiting for something.

“Uh. Hello. Nice to meet you?” it ventured. No harm in being polite, it decided.

The unicorn snorted. The human chuckled grimly.

“Do you have a name?” Marcus asked.

“You mean one of my own?” The changeling shook its head. “No, sorry. Though, I do have a designation.”

The human and unicorn exchanged a glance. It was Captain Feldspar who spoke next. “What do you mean?”

“We can sense each other’s thoughts, you see. We all know who we are, and where we stand in the hive, and our designations reflect that.” The changeling considered for a moment. “The closest I can come to a name in your language is ‘Drone from the southwest section, born seventeen years ago, knows shape-shifting, telekinesis and basic office skills, on first assignment’.”

The pair were staring at it blankly, and it shrugged. “There’s more to it, but it mostly relates to other skills I have.”

Marcus snorted and rolled his eyes. “With names like that, conversations must take weeks.”

“Not really. We communicate through concepts, not words.”

“Forget that,” Feldspar said. “We’ll just call you ‘changeling’, then.”

Contempt spiked from the captain. The changeling sagged down on its bench and looked towards the floor. “If you like.”

“We have more important questions,” Feldspar said, stepping forward. “The first is, what happened to the real Rose Quartz?”

The changeling cocked its head and looked at them. Somewhere in the back of its mind, the idea took hold that it had something that these people wanted. It wasn’t totally powerless. Perhaps it could gain favor through cooperation?

“Why should I tell you that?” the changeling asked. Sensing the thunderous fury hiding under Feldspar’s stony face, it quickly added, “What I mean is, if I tell you, then there’s nothing stopping you from torturing me to death, right?”

Marcus Weiss scowled at that. “We’re not going to torture you to death.”

The changeling’s mind was racing. It sensed honesty coming from the human, and rage coming from the unicorn. It was impressive how Captain Feldspar was able to keep his face relatively calm when he was so very angry. For the first time since its capture, the changeling felt a glimmer of hope.

“So, you’re saying I don’t have a gruesome fate in store for me, even if I don’t cooperate?” the changeling asked.

“I’m saying,” Marcus said, his voice slow and deliberate, “that there is no advantage in you being contrary. Give us information and we’ll treat you well. Give us nothing, you stay locked up here for the foreseeable future.”

“As I slowly starve to death,” the changeling pointed out. “Not the best of fates, even if you’re not going to torture me.”

“I don’t suppose you can eat regular food?” Marcus asked.

“I can, yes. Pretty much anything, actually. We’re omnivorous scavengers. But that just sustains our bodies. Without love to feed off of, our brains will eventually shut down and die.”

“Well, how were you planning on staying fed on Earth in the first place?” Marcus asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“I was hoping that Mintie’s compassion for ‘Rose Quartz’ would be enough for me to get by. Also, humans seem to have some affection for pony-kind, which may have helped. I have no idea if I can process human emotion, though. That’s one of the things I was supposed to find out.”

“Emotion isn’t just emotion?” Marcus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I just know we haven’t tried it on humans, yet.” The changeling considered that for a moment. “As far as I know, at least. I’m just a drone, after all. I’m not told everything. It’s not like I can find out now, anyway. You humans seem to be pretty horrified by me. I’ll starve to death, here.”

The changeling said that in an even tone. It had known back when it had first been chosen for this mission that the odds were pretty high that it would end up dead. It had long since gotten used to that idea.

The unicorn and human exchanged another look, making the changeling wonder if they had their own ability to communicate without language.

“We may be able to get you a trip back to Equestria,” Feldspar said. “May even be able to get you back to your hive. But you have to answer our questions, first.”

The lie would have been obvious even if the changeling weren’t able to pick up on emotions. It broke into a grin. “No need to lie to me, pony. I’ll answer whatever questions you’ve got.”

Feldspar had a doubtful look on his face. “Really?”

The changeling shifted on the chill steel bench. “Don’t worry about Rose Quartz. She’s alive. We changelings never kill unless we have no other choice. Can’t feed off of the dead, after all.” It grinned again, relishing the feeling of horror coming off of the two of them. It made a nice change from the unicorn’s disgust and the human’s steadily-growing knifelike curiosity.

Feldspar’s ears flicked back briefly and his eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”

“There’s an old, abandoned bakery on the corner of Second Avenue and Sojourner Lane,” the changeling said. “There’s a small nest of us there, usually six changelings guarding the place at any given time as the other members come and go. That’s where we keep the…” the changeling cleared its throat. “The prisoners.”

Feldspar’s ears flicked back as his mouth twisted into a frown. “How many changelings total are in Canterlot?”

“At least ten. Could be more, though.”

“You’re being extremely cooperative,” Feldspar said, his eyes narrowing. “Why? No loyalty for your queen?”

The changeling considered the question for a moment. “Loyalty. I’ve heard of that, but I honestly don’t know what it is. Changelings follow Chrysalis because she and her nymphs don’t give us a choice. You ponies follow Celestia for no reason. She isn’t in your head, or anything! You just do it!” It shook its head. “It makes no sense to me.”

“Celestia treats us well and leads us wisely,” Captain Feldspar said. His tone became more reverent as he added, “As does Princess Luna. That is why they get our loyalty.”

The changeling grinned humorlessly. “So, not exactly like a changeling hive, then.” It chuckled bitterly. “This is the first time in my life that I haven’t had the Queen or other changelings in my head. The silence is… intense. So, no, I can’t say I currently have ‘loyalty’ for Chrysalis.” It frowned. “That will change the moment she contacts me again. So, I suggest you ask your questions quickly.”

“What are Chrysalis’ plans for changelings on Earth?” Marcus asked, interrupting whatever question Feldspar had been about to ask. “And are there any other changelings who came through?”

The changeling shook its head. “As far as I know, I was the first. The grand experiment. If I was able to stay disguised, only then would the others come through after me. They’d be disguised as some of the other ponies you’ll find at the bakery. I don’t know all of their identities, because I didn’t need to. But if you figure it out, then you’ll find your disguised ponies.” It hesitated, then. “Please. Don’t hurt them, if you can help it. They have as little choice in this as I do.”

The questions went on for a while longer. The changeling answered them as best as it could. After the human and pony left it went back to laying on its bench. Eventually, it managed to fall asleep.

The intersection of Second Avenue and Sojourner Lane was in a somewhat dilapidated part of town. This particular area had been hit with several stores going out of business at the same time, which had led to still more store closings as the location had become less desirable for shoppers.

Currently, there were more ponies in the area than there had been for over a year, almost all of them either in the armor of the Royal Guard or of the City Watch. There was even a group of Sun Talons circling in the sky, a griffon contingent of the guard loyal to Celestia. The griffons’ superior vision was extremely useful when it came to spotting and tracking suspects.

Luna watched, not interfering as the guards arrayed themselves outside of what the boarded-up remains of what had once been a bakery.

Captain Feldspar had insisted on taking the lead. Once he was happy with how everypony was arrayed, he sent up a flare with his horn. Several groups of guards, mixed units made up of earth ponies and unicorns, breached the building on all sides, tearing open the door and blasting through the boarded-up windows. Then came the waiting.

The command post was on top of another abandoned building a short distance from the bakery. The roof was flat, which had allowed a large number of command staff to congregate and observe the action through binoculars. Luna’s hoof pawed restlessly against the roof as she waited for word, heart thudding as she stared at the blank, gaping windows.

It felt like hours, but truthfully it was only minutes later when a sergeant of the City Watch exited and shot up a flare of his own, followed quickly by a second. The first burst a bright green, indicating mission completion. The second burst yellow, and Luna’s heart clenched. Yellow meant “Medic needed”.

“It’s probably for the civilian prisoners,” Captain Feldspar said softly next to her. “Here comes a flier now.”

Luna noted the pegasus flying quickly from the building and couldn’t help but try and read his expression. He seemed excited, but not upset, much to her relief. The pegasus guard landed and saluted.

“Report,” Feldspar said.

“Sir! No injuries to report. Five changelings were found and captured. Seventeen civilians were discovered in the basement, wrapped in some kind of cocoons. The civilians seem to be alive but unconscious. Medical personnel are on site and are working to revive them.”

“Very good. Dismissed.” Captain Feldspar said. He turned to Luna. “Princess, seventeen civilians indicates that this incursion may be greater in scope than anticipated. We should do a building-by-building sweep to look for any further changeling infestation.”

“Do it,” Luna said, reeling from the report. Seventeen civilians captured, held prisoner in Canterlot, right under the nose of both Celestia and herself.

Captain Feldspar saluted and began snapping out orders. Luna watched as the guards went door to door quickly and efficiently. Any civilians discovered were quickly scanned by unicorn guards to make certain they weren’t changelings in disguise.

It was an hour later when the first of the civilian victims were brought up from the bakery’s basement. Some of them were walking, while others were carried out on stretchers. Luna felt her chest tighten in anger at the sight.

“Captain, I would like a report on the status of the victims.”

“Yes, Princess,” Feldspar replied with a salute.

It took a few minutes for the Captain to round up a medic with enough free time to visit and report. The medic, a misty grey unicorn mare with a heart crossed with a bandage for a cutie mark, introduced herself as Caring Heart. She was visibly nervous about her unexpected introduction to royalty, and yet her report was crisply and efficiently delivered.

“All of the prisoners were kept in some sort of cocoon,” Caring Heart reported. “They were kept suspended in an unknown substance. We believe this substance has the dual purpose of keeping them alive while also sedating them. We wanted to make sure everypony was stable before we began moving them.”

“I see.” Luna frowned down at the group being escorted out of the building. “And the reason why some of them are walking and others being carried? Are there complications?”

“There may be,” Caring Heart replied, casting a worried look at the ponies below. “Perhaps some ponies were exposed longer, or the sedation is affecting some ponies. For the most part, it looks like it is the older ponies who are the hardest hit.”

“Very good,” Luna said. “Keep an eye on them and make sure they have everything they need. If there is anything I can—”

A loud cry from street level got Luna’s attention. A light brown earth pony mare with a green mane was barreling past the guards, heading towards one of the recovered civilians in particular. “Rosie!” the mare called as she ran.

Her target, a light pink unicorn, looked up blearily just in time to be tackle-hugged by the earth pony, who immediately began fussing over her. Luna allowed herself a smile at the sight. This “Rosie” had no doubt been through a terrible ordeal, but hopefully a good friendship would see her through the worst of it.

Names and addresses had already been gathered from the civilians, with squads of guards going off to find the changelings who had been impersonating them. Luna got the list as soon as it was compiled and noted, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, just how many of them were on government staff. The only small grace was that they were all in low-level positions.

Luna issued a few orders, and the newly-freed ponies were all brought to the palace. Those that needed it would get the best medical care available, while the others would be given food and drink before being sent on their way home with a guard escort.

The sun was nearly down by the time Captain Feldspar reported back. He snapped off a quick salute. “No further changeling activity discovered, Princess.”

“Very well.” Luna looked around, noting that the various guardsponies were already beginning to leave the area. “I shall return to the palace. Meet me there when you return.”

Captain Feldspar nodded. Luna wasted no more time, launching herself into the air. She had much to discuss with her sister. And then it would be time to begin screening Dreamguard candidates.

It wasn’t pleasant, pulling a burlap sack off of a cart with your teeth. Erin was pretty sure she’d never get the taste of it out of her mouth. With a flick of her head, she tossed the bag of seed up on top of the two others she already had on her back. She’d had a lot of practice with that, recently. Every day since she’d come back from Cloudsdale, Erin had joined the Apple family on their farm, helping them with their work in exchange for training in earth pony magic.

The strangest part of the training had been when Applejack had given Erin her own apple tree sapling and then insisted that she come up with a name for it. Erin had considered it for a while before deciding on Pomona. Applejack had been confused by the name until Erin had explained its origins as the name of the Roman goddess of orchards. Besides, the only other name she could think of for a tree had been Groot.

Erin’s first task of each day had been to check on the tree, watering it and looking it over for signs of disease or damage. This didn’t typically take very long, as Erin had no idea what to look for. Then Erin went and did whatever chores Applejack assigned to her.

Today, that meant stacking bags of seed on the edge of the freshly-plowed field where they would soon be planted. After dropping the last bag on the stack, Erin took a quick breather, looking at the now-empty cart with a quiet satisfaction.

The hard work had left her exhausted and filthy at the end of every day, but Erin couldn’t find it in her to complain. The first reason for that was because her physical abilities were coming along nicely. Her morning runs were getting easier, for one thing. And, though each day left her just as tired as the day before, she was accomplishing so much more in the same amount of time. She still wasn’t back up to where she was when she’d first arrived in Ponyville, but she was getting closer, which was a very nice feeling.

The second reason that Erin didn’t mind working so hard was brought to mind by the clang of the Apple family’s dinner bell. Technically the “bell” was a triangle, but Erin wasn’t going to argue the point when there was free food involved. She grinned and broke into a run, heading towards the source of the sound: the Apple family farmhouse.

With any luck, one of these days she’d be able to fly the distance, rather than running.

Thoughts of flying reminded her of Rainbow’s lessons on air-sculpting. On a whim, Erin concentrated on the air in front of her, willing it to get thin, to reduce air resistance. The result was immediate, causing her to stumble a half-step forward as the minute-but-steady pressure of the wind on her chest all but vanished.

Erin recovered quickly. Then, with a grin, she kicked up her heels and poured on the speed, running faster than she had since she’d returned to Equestria. Sadly, her run didn’t last long, her new-found endurance seemingly abandoning her after a mere minute or so. Panting, Erin staggered to a halt and leaned against the fence along the side of the road.

“What… the heck…” Erin gasped. A stitch had formed in her side, and she spent a few painful moments rubbing at her ribs with a hoof, trying to make the knot of pain go away. She shoved herself upright with a grimace and started walking down the road once again.

Erin opted to continue walking, rather than trying to run any more. Whatever it was that had sapped her strength had her a little worried. I hope I’m not getting sick, she thought. That’s all I need…

The smell of lunch greeted her as she approached the Apple family’s front door. Breaking into an eager grin, Erin trotted the rest of the way, knocking lightly on the front door. Apple Bloom opened it a moment later. She hadn’t put her traditional ribbon in her mane, yet. In fact, with her mane all snarled and sticking out in all directions, it looked like she hadn’t brushed it, either.

“Hey, Erin! Just in time for lunch, like usual.”

Erin smirked at Apple Bloom’s cheeky grin. “Hey, free food for free labor. Them’s the rules, kiddo!”

Apple Bloom stood aside and Erin walked in, mussing up the filly’s mane even further with a hoof as she did so. Apple Bloom stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry before breaking out into giggles. Erin grinned at the filly as she followed her nose to the dining area, where a simple but wholesome lunch was laid out.

On Earth, working four to six hours on a farm for no more than two meals would have been seen as a bad deal. But since those meals were Apple Family meals, Erin considered herself to be coming out on top in this particular arrangement.

Erin pulled up a chair on the same side of the table as Apple Bloom, with Applejack sitting across from them. Granny Smith was bringing the last of the food out, and Macintosh hadn’t arrived yet.

“You get all them bags stacked up, Erin?” AJ asked her.

“Yup,” Erin replied as she eyed the spread on the table before her. Salad, a thick stew, steamed veggies smothered in butter, fried squash with brown sugar, and so much more. It all smelled wonderful.

“You brought the cart back with ya, then?” Applejack asked with a knowing grin.

Erin felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She looked up sheepishly back at AJ. “I, uh… Yeah, I forgot that.” She hunched down into her chair a little bit. “Sorry. I’ll go and get it before heading home.”

“No worries, sugarcube.”

The door opened, then, sparing Erin any further embarrassment. Macintosh Apple walked in, his coat and mane damp. He took a seat next to Applejack and across from Apple Bloom.

“Now, why in tarnation are you all wet, Big Mac?” AJ asked, favoring her brother with a frown.

Macintosh shrugged, though his cheeks darkened a little bit.

“He was prob’ly out back, washin’ himself off with the garden hose again,” the younger Apple sister said. She started snickering and added, “He only does that when we’ve got company for lunch.”

Erin sighed. Apple Bloom seemed set on matchmaking, taking every opportunity she could to get Macintosh alone with her. Failing that, she would needle her big brother about it at every opportunity. Applejack would sometimes join in, while the eldest of the Apple siblings sat there, stoically ignoring them.

Erin decided to try and derail the teasing before it got going. “Speaking of cleaning up for company, Apple Bloom, did you happen to brush your mane this morning? Or were you just letting a goat chew on it?”

Apple Bloom’s sour grimace and extended tongue brought a snort of laughter from Applejack, followed by a critical examination.

“She’s got a point, Bloom,” AJ said to her sister. “Just ‘cuz you got the day off of school, that’s no reason to leave your mane in such a state.”

Apple Bloom muttered peevishly as she slouched down in her chair. Macintosh caught Erin’s eye and gave her a quick nod as he flashed a grateful smile. Fortunately, this went unnoticed by his sisters, or a new round of teasing would likely have started up.

Granny joined them a moment later, putting down a pitcher of iced tea before taking her usual spot at the head of the table. The next few minutes passed in relative silence as everypony loaded up their plates. Once they all had enough, at least for a first course, conversation started up once again.

“So, there’s no school today?” Erin asked Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom beamed and nodded, whatever lingering resentment the filly might have had towards Erin for calling out her messy mane vanishing in the pure joy of a school-less spring day. “Yup! It’s Founding Day.”

“Founding Day?”

“The day Ponyville was founded,” Applejack said. “No school, some businesses are closed, and ponies that have to work get paid double. It's also the start of the Ponyville Days Festival. Old tradition.”

Granny Smith snorted at that. “Ain’t all that old.”

“So… Does that mean I get to eat twice as much as usual?” Erin asked, eyes twinkling.

Applejack snorted a laugh. “Nah. But I reckon we can give you some to take home, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Erin said. “The food is really great, Granny Smith!”

The old mare grinned at that. “Ya can just call me ‘Granny’, young’un. And thank ya kindly.”

Apple Bloom turned to look at Erin. “Speakin’ of school, Miss Cheerilee asked me yesterday if you could stop by an’ talk to her.”

“Oh? Did she say why?”

“We’ve been talkin’ a bit about humans, an’ such.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “She prob’ly wants you to talk about humans in front of the class.”

“Oh.” Erin considered that for a moment. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I have to ask my boss for time off, though.” She shot a grin at Applejack. “What d’ya say, boss?”

AJ smirked and drawled, “Well… typically I would like more notice from my farmhooves before they take time off. But, considerin’ it’s for the young’uns, I guess I can’t say ‘no’.”

“Thanks, Applejack.” Erin shot her a smile that turned down into a frown. “Of course, now I have to figure out what I’m going to talk about.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Applejack replied. “Just talk about yourself. You know, how you grew up, an’ stuff like that.”

Erin considered that while chewing on a hot, buttered roll. She nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, that would work.”

“Speakin’ of stuff happenin’ on Earth, have you heard anything new from Twilight about the changelings?”

Erin grimaced and shook her head. “No, just the letter that we got from her yesterday.”

Twilight had sent out six letters to her friends, each of which had been nearly identical. Erin’s had been personally delivered by Ditzy on Tuesday. It had been nice to get a more rational view of events than what had been printed in the papers, which were reporting that there were anywhere from hundreds to thousands of changelings, who were either kidnapping or viciously attacking ponies in the heart of Equestria’s capital city. Naturally, that news had caused considerable panic in the small town until the Ministry of Public Relations released their official statement that it had only been a small cell, all of whom had already been captured.

“You think there’s lots of changelings on Earth?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Apple Bloom!” AJ scolded.

The filly drew back defensively. “What?”

“No fear-mongerin’ at the table.”

“But that’s what the papers were sayin’! It was an invasion!”

“There was only one changeling, according to Twilight,” Erin replied. Please, let there have been only one, she thought.

Applejack harrumphed. “Can’t believe everythin’ you read in the papers, Apple Bloom.”

“Why not?” The filly cocked her head and frowned up at her older sister.

“‘Cause they ain’t paid to print the truth, they’re paid to sell papers,” Applejack said with a sour grimace. “Don’t believe nothin’ you read until you check it.”

“That’s another thing Earth and Equestria have in common,” Erin said.

AJ chuckled and the tension left the table. The conversation went back to farming topics, primarily concerning plans for the coming months which Erin found herself tuning out. She wasn’t planning on working the full spring and summer at the farm.

The conversations wrapped up around the same time as the meal did, and everypony got back to their hooves while Apple Bloom and Granny cleared the table. In response to a query from Applejack, Macintosh announced his intention to get started on planting the northeast field.

“Oh, that’s where I left the cart,” Erin said. “I’ll go with you.”

Macintosh considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Eeyup.”

Erin followed him out, while Applejack went off to do whatever it was she was planning on doing that afternoon. The stallion’s longer legs made it necessary for Erin to break into the occasional trot to keep up with him. All the while, she was staring at the road while considering a way to delicately bring up a fairly touchy topic she’d been thinking about for the last few days.

“Somethin’ on your mind, Sunflower?” Macintosh asked. Somewhere along the way, he’d picked a grass stalk and stuck it in his mouth.

“No. Well, yes. How do you feel about foals?”

Erin could have kicked herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. Considering their past, that was the worst way she could have phrased the question.

That wasn’t delicate at all, you idiot! she scolded herself.

Macintosh’s reaction seemed to back up her assessment. The poor stallion stumbled and nearly fell before freezing, wide-eyed, in the middle of the road. The stalk of grass dangled from his lower lip and his coat was a much darker red than usual as he uttered weak little “Buh? Wuh?” sounds.

“No! I mean…” Erin groaned and stomped a hoof. “What I meant to say was, ‘would you consider dating a mare who already has a foal?’”

“Buh…?” Macintosh shook his head. “What?”

“Well… I don’t mean to interfere, and I always hated it when a friend tried to hook me up with someone else, but… well, let’s say I know a mare who might be interested in going out with you, but she has a foal. Would that bother you?”

For a minute or so, Macintosh’s only reaction was to blink at her in confusion. “A… a mare? Who…?”

Erin shook her head. “Nope, not going to give you a name unless you’re interested. It would spare everypony a lot of embarrassment if you’re not interested.” Erin was flushing a pretty deep scarlet, herself. She’d bungled this pretty badly already. “It’s just… I don’t know how it is for ponies, but among humans, having a kid can be a deal-breaker for a lot of males your age.”

Macintosh had recovered most of his composure by this point. At Erin’s last statement, he recovered the rest of it, straightening himself with a frown. “Can be for some stallions, too. Always thought that was short-sighted of ‘em.”

“So… so you’d be okay with it?”

Macintosh considered that for a moment. “Depends, really. It’s different for me than most.”

Erin tilted her head and frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Anypony I end up with is gonna have to live here on the farm. Ain’t many ponies willin’ to give up whatever life they got to do that. I reckon that’s ‘specially true of a mare with a foal.”

“Yeah…”

The two of them started walking again. Once again, Erin found herself deep in thought. Macintosh was either considerate enough to let Erin think things through, or he was deep in thought himself, because he didn’t utter a peep until they got to the cart.

“You reckon you can give me a name, now?” Macintosh asked.

Erin offered up a weak smile as she strapped herself into the cart’s harness. “Tell you what… let me talk to her tonight, and I’ll let you know if she’s actually interested in dating you or if she just finds you attractive.”

Macintosh blushed again and looked away. “Eeyup.”

Giggling, Erin turned the cart towards the farmhouse. “See you tomorrow, Macintosh,” she said.

“See you tomorrow, Sunflower,” came the reply.

Erin trotted off, leaving the stallion to his work. Applejack was waiting for her at the barn, leaning against the wall with her hat down low over her eyes. She waved at Erin, who smiled and broke into a trot.

“Hey, Applejack. What’s up?”

“Y’know,” Applejack drawled, “If’n I didn’t know better, I’d say Big Mac still has a bit of a crush on ya.”

Erin blushed as she shrugged out of the harness. “We talked about it, Applejack. We’re just friends.”

“You sure about that?” Applejack asked, grinning.

“Pretty sure. Why?”

Applejack chuckled as she kicked the barn door open with a hind hoof while still leaning against the wall.

“‘Cuz the darned fool went to go plant the field and left the seed drill behind,” she said, nodding her head at the device. It looked a little bit like a comb suspended between two wheels.

Erin gaped at it. “Oh. Is that what that is?”

Applejack started laughing. “Big lug probably realized it by now an’ is just waitin’ for a bit to make sure you ain’t around when he comes back to get it.”

The conversation, following so closely on Erin’s earlier “how do you feel about foals?” blunder, had her flushing a deep red. “Well… maybe he just forgot? Doesn’t have to be because of me, does it?”

Applejack only laughed harder, dropping to the dirt and wheezing for air.

“It’s not that funny, Applejack!”

Erin was getting ready to leave in a huff when AJ lifted a shaky foreleg and pointed back the way she’d come. Erin turned to look, spotting a brief glimpse of deep red that was suddenly—and, unfortunately, incompletely—obscured by the trunk of an apple tree.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead with a hoof while Applejack whooped it up. “Can… still… see ‘im!” Applejack managed before breaking into fresh gales of laughter.

“I’m going home,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. “Try not to tease him too badly, okay?”

As she trotted away, accompanied by AJ’s laughter and the memory of a stallion trying to hide behind the woefully inadequate cover of a tree trunk, Erin found herself desperately hoping that Ditzy had been serious about being interested in Macintosh. Hopefully, if he started dating somepony else, his family would stop torturing the two of them every chance they got.

Trixie was second-guessing herself, and not for the first time. The road back to civilization had been hard, though things definitely perked up once she managed to reach a town with a train station. Then there was the application process itself, which had mostly involved standing around with a mob of ponies all hoping for the same thing: learning dream magic from a princess.

One of the first things she’d found out was that palace staff had very little patience for grandiose statements of awe-inspiring ability, and even less for referring to oneself in the third person. As a result, Trixie was now forced to temper her language to match the ordinary ponies around her. That, coupled with her lack of customary cape and hat, left her feeling out of sorts and irritable.

The daily scans to make sure none of them were changelings hadn’t helped to improve her mood, even when the guards had found two changelings among the applicants on the first day. Two days later, they were still scanning all the applicants. While Trixie could certainly understand the need, having unfamiliar ponies casting spells on her was extremely unnerving.

Many of the ponies who had applied were the down-and-out dregs that Trixie had been expecting. Ponies without work who were hoping for a job, any job. Of those that looked somewhat better off, most of those were ponies young enough to just barely be out of school, with the rest being curiosity seekers. A few upper-class ponies stood in their own small groups, sneering down their muzzles at everypony else in sight.

Trixie might have said something to them about that, but she was far too aware that her current appearance fit in best with the dregs, rather than the aristocrats. That Trixie wasn’t actually down on her luck wasn’t immediately apparent, thanks in large part to her dry and frazzled mane and chipped hooves. Even though she’d stopped by a spa before arriving at the castle to apply, there was only so much that could be done to improve the appearance of a mare who had spent so much time on the road. It would take days of pampering to even begin to get the sheen and bounce back in her mane.

So it was that Trixie spent most of each day by herself, going through round after round of interviews with steadily higher levels of palace administration. The group she had applied with dwindled rapidly along the way.

The ponies with major crimes in their pasts were the first to go. The remaining applicants were told very bluntly that being in the Dreamguard would be a lot of work and would require serious dedication, making most of those who were here just for a lark or who thought this would be an easy job the next to be sorted out. Nearly all of the nobles and upper-class ponies left at that time, as did many of the curious and a few of the students.

After every round of interviews, the remaining applicants were moved to a different, smaller room. What was left now were those truly determined to get a position in the Dreamguard. And, as nopony had any idea how many positions were open, every pony in the group had to be viewed as a rival.

Trixie maintained an air of aloofness, keeping herself apart from it all. That didn’t stop her from analyzing every pony she saw, looking for weaknesses. For example, the plain-looking earth pony mare, barely more than a filly, who kept looking around nervously: a few well-chosen words in her twitching little ear, and she might just decide that all of this wasn’t worth the stress.

“May I have your attention, please?”

Trixie broke off her surreptitious study of her fellow applicants to look at the unicorn mare who had just walked into the room. Her black mane and tail were both done up in no-nonsense buns. She was levitating a clipboard in front of her.

“Good evening, everypony. My name is Raven, and I am one of Princess Luna’s personal assistants.” A murmur of excitement ran through the remaining score or so of applicants. The corners of Raven’s mouth curved up in what was very nearly a smile. “My congratulations to you all. You’ve all passed the preliminary interviews, and are on the short list as candidates for the Dreamguard.”

This news was met by an excited shout by a few of the rougher-looking ponies, most of whom had the grace to look embarrassed when Raven sent a withering glare their way.

“Ahem, yes. All that remains now is to determine if you have the actual ability to use dream magic. If you are capable, then you will be accepted as a provisional member of the Dreamguard.”

Trixie was grinning at this point, as were the other ponies in the room. She had made it! She was in! Well, assuming that she could wield dream magic. But Trixie wasn’t worried about that. After all, it was practically a foregone conclusion that she could.

Raven allowed herself a tight smile at the applicants’ excitement. “Alright, settle down, everypony. First, I’d like to do a quick roll call. Raise your hoof and say ‘here’ when I call your name.”

Trixie did her best to remember the names as they were called off. After all, these were potentially her fellow Dreamguard. The tiny earth pony mare she’d noted from before shyly raised her hoof when Raven read out the name “Smidgen”, which Trixie thought was an extremely odd name. Who names their filly Smidgen? No wonder the poor thing looked nervous all the time! A small bubble of guilt welled up as Trixie remembered her thoughts of sabotaging the poor mare’s confidence.

“Trixie Lulamoon?” Raven called.

“Here!” Trixie called while raising her hoof.

Raven nodded, made a check mark on her clipboard, and continued calling names. Trixie took that opportunity to sidle up next to the unfortunately-named Smidgen, who cast a nervous glance at her before staring at her hooves.

“Smidgen, is it?” Trixie asked softly, pitching her voice low.

Smidgen nodded and flashed an apprehensive smile before looking back at the floor.

“You can relax, Smidgen.” Trixie smiled confidently at the trembling earth pony. “You made it in!”

“Not yet,” Smidgen replied in a whisper. Trixie had to strain to hear her. “We still have that test.”

“I am confident you’ll pass it with flying colors,” Trixie replied staunchly. “And, if there’s any way I can help you pass, I will.”

Smidgen looked shocked at the offer for a moment before a joyful smile broke out across her face. The smile transformed her plain features into something more, transforming her face into something quite lovely.

“Thank you,” Smidgen whispered.

“Think nothing of it,” Trixie replied, feeling oddly good about herself. She looked about, noting that Raven had finished checking off names and was now leading everypony out of the room. “Ah. It looks like we’re being moved to yet another room. Hopefully, the next one won’t be much smaller. They’ll be trying to fit us all into a closet, at this rate.”

Smidgen giggled at that. Together, the two of them joined the others and moved into the hallway.

The room they were led into was a departure from the previous trend, being much larger than the last one. The first thing Trixie noticed was the incredibly high, vaulted ceiling. Chandeliers of delicate crystal and gold glowed with enchanted light, bathing the room with soft illumination. The walls were painted a dark red, rich and vibrant, the perfect compliment to the gleaming wood floor, which was tiled in alternating light and dark stain like a chessboard.

All around the large room were scattered cushions and couches. There seemed to be no organization involved at all, other than keeping at least a few feet of space between each piece of furniture. As the ponies walked in, their hoofsteps echoed around the enormous room. It was almost enough to make Trixie feel small. Almost.

Further examination of the room was cut off instantly when Trixie saw who was waiting for them. Twilight Sparkle, the unicorn that had been haunting her for months now, was laying on her belly on a low couch. Her eyes were closed and, if it weren’t for her upright posture, Trixie could have sworn she was asleep.

Next to her, Smidgen gasped. Trixie looked down at the little mare to see that she was staring into a different corner of the room. Trixie followed her gaze, noting a little belatedly that Twilight Sparkle wasn’t the only pony who had been waiting for them.

Princess Luna was sitting on her hindquarters amidst a pile of cushions. Her dark blue coat shone softly in the light, her flowing ethereal mane alight with captured starlight. A polite smile graced her features as she nodded to the prospective Dreamguard who were entering the room.

“Welcome, one and all,” Luna said once the door clicked shut behind them. “For the final portion of your application to the Dreamguard, there is but one final test. Do not worry, should you fail here today. I do not expect that many of you shall pass on your first attempt, after all. You will be given more chances, should you need them. Please, find a place to lie down, and make yourselves as comfortable as you can.”

Twilight Sparkle had cracked her eyes open once Luna had started speaking. She glanced at the students, and Trixie was certain her eyes widened a fraction when they met her own. Good, she remembers me, Trixie thought with quiet satisfaction.

Trixie didn’t bother to look around, simply finding the closest pile of cushions and lowering herself into them. Smidgen found another set of cushions nearby and sunk into them, looking even tinier by comparison once she was fully settled.

Twilight had already closed her eyes once again by the time Princess Luna began talking. Trixie tore her gaze away to look once more at the Princess of the Night.

“The point of today’s lesson is to try and guide your mind to the place directly between reality and the world of dreams,” Luna said. “This is the Threshold, what we used to call the Gate of Dreams. Should you succeed, I will meet you there.

“Now, what you need to do is very simple. Simply begin relaxing your mind, calming your thoughts. I shall give you some advice on how to accomplish this…”

Princess Luna continued talking, but Trixie wasn’t able to pay much attention. Instead, her focus was on Twilight. The mare was sitting there, all peaceful and quiet. Ignoring Trixie! As if it weren’t her fault that Trixie had spent months trying to salvage a shattered reputation before finally giving in and looking for an artifact that would give her power, that would allow her to show Twilight—no, to show everypony, that Trixie was no joke. And she was just sitting there, all placid and peaceful, as if she didn’t even know or care what she’d done to Trixie! As if—

“Is something troubling you?” a gentle voice asked to her right.

Trixie squeaked and jumped slightly. She looked over to see a pair of long, dark legs, which she followed up until she met Princess Luna’s eyes. The princess was regarding her with a calm but concerned expression.

“Ah! Uh… No. Thank you, your majesty. Trixie is quite well.”

She bit her lip, regretting the slip into third-person, but Luna either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Instead, the princess simply nodded.

“Try to relax. Clear your mind of distractions and try to achieve a state of perfect calm.”

Trixie almost snorted at the suggestion. With her rival only a stone’s throw away? Not that there were any stones to throw, only cushions, which Trixie refused to even consider throwing as it was obviously beneath her dignity, no matter how funny the thought of Twilight Sparkle receiving a face-full of fabric was. Instead, she schooled her expression to stillness and nodded.

“I will try my best, Princess,” she said.

There was only one reason why Twilight Sparkle would be here in this place. Obviously, she was trying out for the Dreamguard as well. As Celestia’s student, it made a certain amount of sense, but it was so unfair. How could one unicorn have so many advantages while Trixie had to scrape and work her tail off to achieve any amount of progress?

Just then, Twilight Sparkle grimaced and adjusted herself. Something about her expression when she did so… Was it disappointment? Frustration?

Elation burst inside Trixie’s chest when the realization hit her: Twilight was a student, just like she was! And, from the looks of it, she was still struggling with this first part, the relaxation. The thought hit her almost like a physical blow. She could still win!

She followed what little snippets of Luna’s advice that she remembered. She concentrated on her breathing. She tried relaxing. Minutes ticked by, and yet Trixie still found herself unable to relax.

The other students’ breathing was becoming synchronized, possibly due to some latent herd instinct. The sound of it put Trixie in mind of the many nights she’d spent in her wagon, traveling from one town to the next. After the sun went down, after she put out her last candle, the only sound was the creaking of insects and the wind sighing in the trees.

She’d spent most of the last several years like that. It was lonely, but it was a serene sort of lonely. The thought of the trees swaying always reminded her of the sea, her little wagon like an island in the night. Nopony around for miles, nopony to disturb her.

She lost herself in the memory of these feelings, stilling all other thoughts in her mind. The other students, even Twilight Sparkle, all fell away. The sensation of the cushions beneath her had long since faded. All that was left was Trixie, alone in her wagon, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees.

And, shortly thereafter, even that was gone.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” a soft voice said.

Trixie’s eyes snapped open. Much to her amazement, she found that she was no longer in the classroom. Instead, she was apparently standing on nothing, with a featureless grey stretching away from her on all sides.

The voice had come from behind her. Trixie wasn’t sure if she turned, or if the world somehow revolved around her. Either way, Princess Luna came into view, wearing a pleased smile. “I am most impressed. I confess, I wasn’t expecting anypony to reach this place tonight.”

Trixie looked around. She had a vague feeling that she should be frightened to find herself suspended in the middle of grey nothingness, but it was hard to conjure the emotion. “Where are we, Princess?”

Princess Luna’s smile beamed like moonlight. “Why, we’re on the Threshold of the Dreamrealms, of course. Welcome!”

“I made it?” Trixie gaped up at the princess for a moment before squealing with delight. If her hooves had been on solid ground, she would have hopped into the air. As it was, her legs just paddled at the nothingness around her. “I made it!”

“You did indeed, my little pony,” Princess Luna said. Her tone was grave, but she was smiling still. “And soon, your true training will begin.”

~~*~~

Trixie kicked her hooves idly while she hummed an aimless tune. As fascinated as she had been at first, there is only so much time a pony can remain excited while suspended in the middle of the featureless grey void that is the Threshold of the Dreamrealms.

Some distance away, Princess Luna was standing perfectly still, a look of calm serenity on her features. She’d said something about “checking on the others” a few minutes earlier, ending their impromptu question-and-answer session. Trixie had learned a little about the different levels of the Dreamrealms, with the promise of more instruction to come.

After an unknown amount of time, Princess Luna shifted and opened her eyes. “Alas,” she said, “It seems my earlier optimism at such a quick initial success was unfounded. It seems as if you will be the only one joining me tonight. I do believe that we can call an end, for now. If you please, concentrate on returning to wakefulness.”

“Um…” Trixie rubbed her forehooves together and looked away.

“Something concerns you?”

“Well, Princess…” With a grimace, Trixie let spill what had been bothering her. “What if—and I’m not saying it would happen, mind you—but what if I… uh… can’t get back here?”

Luna smiled kindly as she walked over to where Trixie hung suspended on nothing. “Have no fear, my Dreamguard. Each time you come here, you will find the return to be easier. Soon, it will be as simple to you as closing your eyes.”

The rapid fluttering of Trixie’s heart abated somewhat. She managed a nervous smile back at Luna. “Alright, Princess.”

Trixie concentrated. A rushing feeling filled her senses, then nothing. This lasted for a long moment before all of her senses came flooding back, and she realized three things in quick order.

The first thing she noticed was that the real world was loud compared to the Threshold, even with nopony making much noise. Just the movement of the air and the occasional shift or cough from other ponies seemed to be an incredible din. Second, her body had acquired a number of small cramps, itches and other such annoyances. Third, she badly needed to use the little filly’s room.

“I think that’s enough for this evening, everypony,” Luna called. A series of groans and frustrated mumbles answered her, causing her to raise a hoof. “Worry not. You shall be given many further opportunities to qualify for a position. As we go on, we will attempt to hone in on a process that will allow you to achieve the proper state. Perhaps music shall work for some of you.” A playful gleam entered the Princess’ eye as she looked towards Twilight Sparkle, who was standing and beginning to stretch out her legs. “Though, I know it doesn’t work for everypony.”

Twilight’s face twisted as if she’d bitten into a lemon, and, Trixie’s heart sung a little song. One corner of her mouth lifted up in a not-quite-sneer as she looked across the room at her dejected rival. What happened next made her victory even more sweet.

“I am pleased to announce that one of your number has passed initiation. Everypony, please give a warm welcome to the first pony to enter the Dreamguard in over a millenium: Trixie Lulamoon!”

The applause was half-hearted and accompanied by some jealous grumbling. Nevertheless, Trixie drank it up like it was the sweetest nectar, not even bothering to keep the smug grin off of her face.

“A repast has been prepared for you,” Luna said as she swept gracefully towards the door. “Castle servants will be present shortly to show you all to the dining hall. For those of you staying in the castle, you will be shown to your rooms after dinner is done. For now, I have other duties to attend to, and I shall see you all tomorrow.”

With that, Luna left. Trixie had to restrain the urge to trot after her and demand—politely, of course—to know what would happen next. Food, she decided, would not be unwelcome. Besides, a palace servant would likely find her to tell her where and when the princess needed her. For now, she had other things to do.

She rose to her hooves and began picking her way between the cushions. Half-formed boasts and gloats were forming in her mind as she approached her nemesis, the mare who had shown her up and humiliated her. The cause of all her suffering, the reason for her homelessness. Twilight Sparkle.

Trixie had dreamed of this moment. As her shadow fell across the sitting mare, Twilight blinked and looked up at her. Trixie cleared her throat and opened her mouth, preparing the first of many barbed statements designed to lance into her rival’s heart.

“Oh, hi Trixie,” Twilight said, smiling as she stood up. “It’s good to see you again.”

Every carefully prepared jab and every stinging comment, all of it spun away as Trixie’s brain whirled with confusion. “It is?” she blurted.

“Oh, yes! I was pretty worried about you after you left Ponyville.”

“You were?”

Twilight nodded, her face taking on a somber expression. “I was honestly expecting you to come back to town some time later that night. I was really concerned when I checked the next day and none of the hotels or inns said you’d stayed there. I mean, with your wagon smashed and everything, that meant you had to sleep outside, right?”

“I, uh…” Trixie had actually spent that first night crying tears of loss and shame while huddled under the dubious shelter of an apple tree. At least the tree had been kind enough to provide her with breakfast the following morning.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Her dreaded rival smiled a chipper and hateful smile. “I salvaged what I could from your wagon. It’s in storage in the basement of the Ponyville library.”

“Uh… but…” Embarrassed resentment began heating up in Trixie’s chest. She’d practiced this encounter in her mind every night for months! This was not the way this conversation was supposed to go!

“I even cast a repair spell on whatever I could identify,” Twilight continued, blithely oblivious to the distress she was causing Trixie. “I mean, some of it I couldn’t even tell what it was, so I couldn’t repair it. Oh, and your fireworks powders were too dangerous to store in the library—flammable books, you know?—so I gave them to the local fireworks shop for storage.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t say?”

Twilight Sparkle nodded and smiled in a naive and hopeful way that Trixie had no doubt was carefully crafted to get under her skin. The display of kindness had put Trixie off of her game for a moment, but the oh-so-casually mentioned repair spells had put things back on track. That was a spell an order of magnitude more difficult than anything Trixie could currently manage. Obviously, Twilight had simply been distracting her until she could get her own jabs in.

Well, two could play at that game, and Twilight Sparkle was about to find out that Trixie’s own horn wasn’t all that blunt!

“So, the Dreamrealm,” Trixie said with exaggerated casualness as she buffed a hoof on her chest. “It’s pretty fascinating, isn’t it?”

Trixie smirked as she saw her comment hit. Twilight’s ears drooped, and she looked shamefully at the floor.

“Actually, I haven’t made it there yet,” the other mare confessed. Trixie drank in the note of bitterness she heard in her voice. “Luna says I keep overthinking it, but… well, it’s hard to just turn off my brain like that, you know?”

Trixie barely managed to avoid snarling at the comment which was, to her mind, a particularly good hit. The thought came to her, quick and furious. Is she implying that she’s too smart to enter the Dreamrealms?!

“Well,” Trixie said loftily as she tried to hide her little trembles of rage, “we can’t all emulate Princess Luna so easily, you know.”

Twilight winced. “True,” she said, then sighed. “Still, if you have any tips or tricks, I’d appreciate it. I’m really getting frustrated, here!”

A flash of inspiration took Trixie in that moment. Sabotage! She could give this mare advice that would guarantee that she’d never enter the Dreamrealms! She thought intensely for a few seconds before a wicked idea came over her.

“You need to focus intensely on one thing in particular,” she said. “That’s what I did.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked, sounding almost desperate. “What did you focus on?”

Wind in the trees, the gentle creaking of a wagon, and the knowledge of not a single soul within miles, but there was no chance Trixie would tell Twilight that. Instead, what she said was, “Something I was very familiar with. I’m afraid that wouldn’t work for you. Instead, what you need to do is find something, one single thought, and run in through your head over and over again.”

Twilight looked doubtful. “That would work?”

“It worked for me,” Trixie said. “Perhaps something like a song? Or a line from a book?”

Twilight considered for a moment. “Multiplication tables, maybe?”

Trixie very nearly laughed, then. It was too perfect! If over-thinking was what kept the accursed mare out of the Dreamrealm, then math problems would be perfect for ensuring her absence! Trixie cleared her throat and fought down a grin. “That could work,” she said with carefully feigned casualness.

“Oh, thank you!” Twilight said. Trixie stiffened as Twilight rushed forward, but it seemed all the other unicorn wanted was to give her a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“Eh, heheh…” Trixie patted her awkwardly on the back. “Don’t mention it.” She pushed Twilight firmly away from her. “Seriously. Like, ever.”

Twilight giggled as if Trixie had been joking. Just then, their conversation was interrupted by a castle servant who called for their attention.

“If everypony will follow me,” the servant said, “I will lead you to the dinner that has been prepared."

As dejected as the other candidates had been before, the promise of dinner in the palace perked many of them back up. They began filtering out of the room, many in small groups.

This encounter had started roughly, but Trixie felt that she had managed to come out on top. Her success in reaching the Dreamrealm before Twilight Sparkle was a definite win for her. Being gracious now could only help to cement her victory. She forced on a plastic smile.

“Well, it seems it’s time for dinner,” Trixie said. “I suppose I shall see you there?”

“Oh, well…” Twilight ducked her head and grinned apologetically. “I’m actually supposed to have dinner with Celestia and Luna tonight.”

Trixie gaped at her, completely lost for words. Twilight didn’t seem to notice as she blathered on.

“I should probably get going, really,” her hated nemesis said in a lilting tone, as if she hadn’t just rubbed salt into an open wound. “I’ll see you around, Trixie!” Twilight trotted away a few steps before turning and waving a hoof. “It really was great to see you again. And, congratulations on making the Dreamguard!”

Trixie waved a hoof back reflexively as she made a little squeaking sound in her throat. She watched as Twilight Sparke trotted perkily out the door. It took almost a full minute before Trixie’s brain began working again.

Somehow, Twilight had turned the tables once again, securing the win for tonight. Trixie’s eyes narrowed as her blood began to boil.

“I swear on my magic,” Trixie seethed, “I will get the better of you, Twilight Sparkle!”

Chapter 16: Humans in Ponyville

Once again, the humans attempted to open a gateway, and once again the Goddess allowed it. Into the world her people had once called Paradise came more machines, tearing into the soil and buzzing through the air of her former home. This, she also allowed.

A single creature made its way through the gateway, primed full of precious information. This the Goddess did not allow. She stretched forth her will and the Infiltrator, the poor, butchered thing that it was, was caught. It struggled and writhed like a minnow in her hand.

With a single ancient Word, the Goddess calmed it. With a delicate touch, she reached into it, and soon knew everything it did. Information flooded into her, filling in the blanks of what she knew of the worlds on the other side of the portal. Some of the information even managed to surprise her.

This next part had to be done very delicately. The Infiltrator’s mind was first stripped bare, leaving it a blank slate. The Goddess held the knowledge before her like a gigantic puzzle, turning it this way and that, considering it from every angle.

And then she began to make changes. Everything provided by that so-called “Queen” was removed and set aside. The Caretaker would find no allies on the world known to the ponies as Equus. He wouldn’t know that Equus even existed. Then she began to remove other information as well, with all the care and precision of a surgeon.

When she was done, the Goddess had two collections of pure information. The larger of the two she put aside for the moment. The smaller one was returned to the mind of the Infiltrator, where it expanded to fill the empty space. And then the Goddess began to speak more Words of magic, invoking what little power she still had at her command, filling in the blank spaces in the information with carefully-crafted half-truths and outright lies.

The story that the Goddess wove unfolded in the Infiltrator’s mind. It was a story of a race of inquisitive creatures driven by curiosity to explore. Gone was any mention of humanity’s pony allies, as well as most of the information regarding their military capabilities.

When the Goddess finished weaving her tale, it created an image of a fairly harmless race of explorers who would find Paradise fascinating, but who could be easily quelled should they attempt to invade.

It amused her to no end that the one who had the audacity to give himself the name of “Caretaker” had been so very careless. He thought her harmless, now. Tamed and shackled by the massive shield that allowed only a trickle of her magic, processed and pacified, to reach the world below. Magic that was harnessed to maintain the machinery which upheld the mockery the Caretaker declared to be “existence”.

But even he couldn’t change the fact that the Veil between worlds was hers. Nothing passed through it without her approval. What she was doing now, allowing these humans to send their machines through, was a violation of what had once been some of her most basic guiding principles. She would never have allowed it, were it not for what the Caretaker had done.

That she had gone along willingly at first, even helping to create the shield that bound her… that was the part that had haunted her the most, all this time.

The Infiltrator was nearly ready to be released. The Goddess studied it carefully, looking for flaws or inconsistencies in the information that it held. The Caretaker knew she controlled the Veil, but he couldn’t be allowed to know how much she could influence what passed through it. If he discovered what she was doing, then the slow, careful work of uncounted ages would come undone in moments.

But now that there was Earth and Equus, the trap was set and the final pieces were moving into place. For the first time in longer than she could remember, the Goddess could see all the way to the end.

Finally satisfied with her arrangements, she let the Infiltrator slip away, watching as it slid back into the world she could no longer directly touch. The Infiltrator swam through the air, unseen amongst the Dreamers. Its destination was a single mountain, standing tall and lonely amongst the forests. It was far beneath this mountain that the Caretaker had made his home.

The Infiltrator passed through the stone of the mountain as if it were fog. The Goddess wasted no time. Speaking Words of magic carefully yet quickly, she began creating a message, once again filled with half-truths and outright lies. A message designed to manipulate a creature she had never even met in a world she could only occasionally see.

It didn’t take long for the Infiltrator to reappear, speeding through the air towards the still-open gateway. The Goddess had expected this. The Caretaker was a cautious sort, and the small amount of information he had collected wouldn’t be nearly enough. No doubt the Infiltrator was instructed to range further this time, to gather as much data as possible even if that meant that it couldn’t return quickly.

As the Infiltrator passed through the gateway, the Goddess once again caught it. It amused her to note that its instructions had been changed exactly as she had hoped. The Caretaker wouldn’t be expecting his butchered abomination back any time soon, which was all to the best. He would never see the Infiltrator again.

She worked quickly, uncertain of how much longer the humans would leave the gateway open. The Infiltrator’s mission parameters were changed, and the Goddess’ message was implanted carefully. It now had only one purpose: hers.

Once again, she released the Infiltrator. It shot through the gate, single-minded and determined to fulfill her will.

“Blessings be on you,” the Goddess whispered. ”Forgive me for what I’ve done.”

All she could do now was wait. Wait for events to unfold, wait for the vessel that had been prepared for her. Soon, if fate was kind, she would walk her world again.

The sun was fading, and so was Twilight. She put the book aside with a sigh and rubbed at her dry, tired eyes with her fetlock. So much information, and so little of it actually helpful in any way. She now knew more about the Dreamrealms than most ponies alive, having read through nearly everything the Royal Library contained on the subject, and she still felt no closer to actually visiting the place than she had when she’d started.

Each night Twilight had tried to reach the correct state of mind, and each night she failed. Trixie Lulamoon had achieved it on her very first try, which struck Twilight as monstrously unfair, but at least the other mare had been kind enough to give her a tip on how to get there herself.

“Twilight, it’s time!” Spike called from the far end of the apartment Twilight was staying in.

Twilight sighed and placed the book on meditation techniques that she’d been reading back on the stack next to her. It was one she’d read already, but it had seemed the most logical and helpful of the bunch, so she had been skimming through it to see if she’d missed anything that could be helpful.

“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight said. She got up and stretched, trying to work some of the kinks out of her back. The little dragon walked over and gathered up some of the books she’d just set aside, no doubt to put it away. On impulse, Twilight gathered him up in a hug and nuzzled him on the cheek. “You’ve been such a great help to me this week!”

“Aww, come on,” Spike protested, blushing as he half-heartedly pushed her head away.

“No, I mean it,” Twilight said as she let him go. “I know I take you for granted sometimes, but you’ve really been a fantastic help. It really means a lot to me.”

“Pssh…” Spike waved dismissively as he looked away, but he wasn’t able to hide his smile. “Someone has to make sure you eat when you’re on one of your study binges.”

“And I appreciate it,” Twilight said as she ruffled his spines.

Spike batted her hoof away. “Hey! I just got those straight!” He re-straightened his spines. “Uh. Thanks, Twilight. But you’d better get going if you don’t want to be late.”

“You’re right. See you later, Spike!” Twilight gave him another quick hug before walking out the door.

The chamber where the potential Dreamguard were meeting was a quick trot away. Twilight arrived and took her usual place on a cushion that was somewhat secluded from the others. Several of the candidates were already there, chatting amongst themselves. A quick glance showed her that Trixie wasn’t there, which was a pity; Twilight had been hoping to get a few last-minute pointers from the mare before trying again tonight.

A few minutes after the last of the candidates had settled, Princess Luna entered. She swept gracefully through the room and settled onto a divan. Folding her wings across her sides, the princess looked around the room and smiled. “Begin,” she said.

Twilight took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. It was time to try again, but she wasn’t too optimistic. Having musicians in the room hadn’t worked, and the incense had made her sneeze. Exercise before meditation had just made her sweaty and uncomfortable. Twilight had tried everything that both she and Luna could think of before Trixie had suggested multiplication tables. Twilight decided that it was worth a try, even if it seemed counter-intuitive.

She worked her way quickly through the single digits, then began multiplying double digits together. After a few minutes, she lost herself in the process, running almost on automatic. The numbers, beautiful and perfect and wonderfully predictable, danced in her head. She reached the point where she was multiplying triple digits against double digits when somepony talking nearby shook her out of her relaxed state of mind.

Twilight opened her eyes to scold whoever it was. The first thing she saw was Princess Luna. She was talking softly to Trixie and a tiny mare that she recognized as another Dreamguard candidate. The very next thing she noticed was that each of them seemed to be hovering in a featureless grey void that stretched out to infinity.

“Princess?” Twilight said tentatively, getting the attention of all three of the others. The tiny mare looked away shyly while Trixie gaped at her incredulously. Princess Luna, however, simply smiled warmly.

“Twilight! I’m so glad you’ve finally made it!”

“I did?” It had been a goal fraught with mounting frustration for over a week. To have made it so unexpectedly… Twilight couldn’t believe it at first. But a quick check around the featureless void she found herself in was enough to tell her that her environment matched all descriptions she’d read of the Threshold. “I did!” Relief flooded her only to be quickly displaced by joy. She turned to Trixie, who was still gaping at her. “Oh, Trixie, thank you! I never would have made it here if it hadn’t been for your advice!”

The resultant extremely loud and unexpected scream from the other mare jolted Twilight out of the mental state she’d finally managed to achieve. She blinked, disoriented at finding herself still sitting on her cushion.

“What the heck was that about?” she muttered to herself.

The Sunday sun had just crested the eastern horizon when the specially-commissioned train pulled into Ponyville. Almost nopony in town was awake yet, which suited Erin just fine. She took a moment to straighten her yellow sundress before going back to shifting nervously from hoof to hoof. When the doors finally opened, she let out a little involuntary yelp of excitement.

The first person out of the passenger car was an older man, probably in his late fifties. His bald head gleamed in the early sunlight, and he had a scruffy grey beard on his narrow face. He honestly looked a slightly villainous, but when he broke into an impish smile Erin began to relax.

“Miss Sunflower, I presume?” the man said, approaching with his hand stretched out. Erin giggled and held out a hoof, which he shook. “I’m Jerry Mallon. I’m the head of this little gang of interdimensional explorers.”

“Yup, I’m Sunflower,” Erin said. “You can call me Erin if you like, it doesn’t matter to me. How was the trip?”

“Hectic at first. The ponies shuffled us through the palace and onto a train before we could even blink. Though, they were nice enough to carry all of our gear for us.” He clapped his hands. “Oh, that reminds me! A few of these boxes are for you. Maggie Henson asked us to deliver them for you.”

“Awesome! That’s got to be all the stuff I ordered.” Erin’s grin melted into a concerned frown. “At least I hope that’s all of it.”

“It makes a stack as high as I am tall,” Jerry said, eyes twinkling. “I have to admit, I’m curious as to what all that is.”

Erin winked. “It’s a surprise for the ponies.”

While the two of them had been talking, several men and a few women exited the train. They were busy looking around, whispering animatedly to each other while pointing out various buildings and landmarks. Jerry saw her looking and chuckled.

“I suppose I should introduce the gang,” he said, then whistled sharply to get everyone’s attention. “Over here, guys!”

Erin looked them over as they approached. For the most part, they looked to be late twenties to early thirties, though a couple of them ranged into their forties or older. They all wore comfortable, casual clothes that would probably have Rarity wringing her hooves in disappointment, but which Applejack would probably approve of as sensible enough for a hard day of work.

Jerry ran through the names far too quickly for Erin to remember. Only a few of them stuck in her head during that first introduction. There were two men named Rob, who were introduced as Rob One and Rob Two. Of the three women, one had the unusual name of Tandy. The last name Erin remembered from the flurry of introductions was a man who looked to be a few years older than she was. Lucas Vasquez had short black hair, meltingly dark brown eyes and a confident grin that had Erin’s own smile turning a little goofy before she noticed what she was doing and clamped down on it.

There was no way she was going to remember all of the names. Fortunately, they were all wearing name tags, so she wouldn’t be too lost. Which raised an interesting question.

“So, why the name tags?” Erin asked, pointing to the one Jerry was wearing.

Jerry adjusted his tag and gave it a little buff with the collar of his shirt. “Before we came over, we were given this big speech about how we’re all ‘representatives of humanity’ and all that. We’re supposed to be nice, friendly and approachable. We’re also supposed to be on our best behavior.” He looked at the group of assembled humanity out of the corner of his eye. “Isn’t that right, gang?”

The group responded with reasonably eager assertions that this was, in fact, the case.

“Well, that’s good,” Erin said. If she were to be honest, it was something she’d been a little concerned about. “So, I think we should get you guys settled, huh?”

“Sounds good,” Jerry replied with a nod. He turned to the group of humans and began issuing orders. Soon enough, all of their gear and luggage was brought out and stacked onto the carts that they had also brought along.

It was quite the parade that Erin led through town. First to the Moondrop Inn, where she’d reserved rooms for all of them. Unfortunately there had only been four rooms available, so they would have to pack two or three to a room.

“Not a problem,” Jerry said when she told him that. “We expected a little bit of hardship.”

After the gear had been stored, Erin guided the group to her home, where they dropped off her new purchases off in her living room.

The Ponyville town hall was their next stop. Along the way, Erin pointed out various interesting shops as well as some of her favorite places to eat. The occasional pony who was awake early enough all had the same basic reaction: stopping and staring in amazed bewilderment at the troop of humans marching through their small town.

Mayor Mare was waiting for them, adjusting her collar and smiling professionally as the group approached. Erin and the other humans stopped a short distance away.

“Welcome, everyone,” the mayor said. “Welcome… to Ponyville!”

The start of the day for a baker was different than the start of the day for most ponies. The sky was dark when the Cakes got out of bed for work, and it was still dark by the time the first of the new bread was coming out of the ovens.

Granted, as an apprentice baker, Pinkie didn’t have to work that early most days. Though, she tried to get up early anyway in order to help the Cakes with the twins, even on her days off. The Cakes weren’t so lucky. Every day for them was long and tiring. Pinkie knew in her heart that the only thing that kept the two of them going was the sincere love they had for their jobs and their even deeper love for each other.

Pinkie’s usual job in the morning was to assist with the baking and to clean the shelves. The second part was one of her most favorite jobs ever, as cleaning the shelves often meant she got to gobble down the rare unsold pastry. The Cakes had heard of other bakeries selling day-old wares, but they wanted no part of it. It was fresh or nothing at Sugarcube Corner. Thus it was that she took care of her chores and her breakfast simultaneously, which was the best way to work as far as Pinkie Pie was concerned.

Today was one of those days that Pinkie had agreed to work in the morning. Not that she minded! After her initial frenzy of cleaning, the Cakes would usually put her on the register. That meant that she got to greet everypony who came in. Not to mention every donkey, cow, mule and, just recently, human.

Pinkie was nudged from her reverie by a pair of voices from a nearby table, one of them mentioning “humans”. She looked over to see Daisy and Lily enjoying a snack. Since there were no customers in line, Pinkie took that moment to nonchalantly sidle over for a little eavesdropping.

“They wanted to put one of those things on my shop!” Lily was saying. “As if I’d let them do that!” She scoffed and added, “I sent them on their way, of course.”

“I let them do it,” Daisy said, which caused Lily to sputter a little.

“Why would you do that?”

“Good question!” Pinkie exclaimed, momentarily forgetting that eavesdroppers aren’t supposed to participate in the conversations they listen in on.

The two startled mares turned to look at her. Pinkie smiled and slowly backed away to find a new place where she could be unobtrusive while still being close enough to listen in as their conversation started back up.

“Uh, because they’ll be paying a monthly fee of twenty bits to anypony who lets them set one up,” Daisy replied after a few seconds. She rolled her eyes. “I mean, business is good, but extra bits for doing nothing is always nice. Though, I guess it will be using some of my electricity.”

Lily’s mouth had been hanging open all through Daisy’s explanation. She shut it with a snap. “Nobody told me they were offering money for that!”

“And how long did you let them talk before you slammed the door in their face?” Daisy asked, grinning.

Lily’s face turned lemon-sour. “Okay, point taken. But what do those things even do? I don’t want some weird bit of human stuff hanging off of my shop, especially when it’s also my home!”

Daisy shrugged and sipped her coffee. “I think the one in charge said it was a ‘wireless network’. I guess it works a little like a radio?”

“Wait, wait…” Lily waved a hoof, frowning. “You mean, it’s just for human radio broadcasts?”

“I guess so?” Daisy shrugged again. “I don’t really know, but it seems likely. A pony named Radio Wave was with them. I guess he’s from Manehattan, where he works on radio towers.”

Lily perked up at that. “Oh! Is he cute?”

Daisy giggled at that. Pinkie, who was busily pretending to clean a non-existent dirty spot from a nearby countertop, didn’t bother correcting their misunderstanding about the wireless network. This was partially because she didn’t want them to know she’d still been listening, but mostly because she had no idea how to explain what it really was.

Some customers came in then, and Pinkie had to stop her eavesdropping so she could take their order. By the time she’d gotten them their food, Daisy and Lily had finished up and were already halfway out the door. With a sigh, Pinkie got back to her chores.

The humans sure had stirred things up, Pinkie reflected. Pinkie stopped mid-chore, tilting her head as a thought struck her. Ponies had herds. A group of bears, she knew, was called a sleuth, and beavers had colonies. Birds had flocks and wolves had packs. And, of course, everypony knew that a group of alligators was called a congregation. But she had no idea what a group of humans was called!

Pinkie made a mental note to ask Sunflower when she saw her next. This led her to think over her plans for the party she was going to throw for the humans before they left. And time, like it sometimes did, played that game where it suddenly went by much too fast, and before Pinkie even knew it was lunchtime, there was Mrs. Cake tapping her on the shoulder.

There was probably some calculation that explained how quickly time flew when you were having fun, and by what amount. There was probably some complicated mathemagical equation that would allow a pony to figure out exactly how much fun you were having by how quickly time passed, and vice-versa. Twilight would probably know, but she was still in Canterlot learning how to be a Dream-poker, though her latest letter said she’d be coming back tomorrow.

Pinkie realized that she was forgetting something. A second nudge on her shoulder reminded her what it was.

“Yes, Mrs. Cake?” Pinkie asked, blinking up at the older mare.

“Time for your lunch, dearie. You can take the rest of the afternoon off,” the mare replied with a very special smile. It was one that most ponies had, a smile that showed how much you cared for the pony you were talking to. Mrs. Cake had gotten really good at that one now that she was a mom.

Pinkie smiled back, trying her best to match Mrs. Cake’s. And, since she loved Mrs. Cake very, very much, it was pretty darned close. “Okie dokie! I’m gonna go get Mister Hugglebunny and head out.”

Mrs. Cake’s smile became a little stiff. If Pinkie hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn that the older mare was maybe just a bit creeped out by her new friend. “Okay, Pinkie. You have fun!”

Mister Hugglebunny was on his nightstand, looking especially dapper in his new clothes. Rarity had taken one look at Pinkie’s amateur sewing job, which had the tablet nearly falling out of the front of Mister Hugglebunny’s overalls, and had immediately insisted on fitting the stuffed rabbit with a new pair out of dark blue denim. Now the tablet was nice and snug, all cuddled up on the plush bunny’s tummy, the wire for his charger exiting out of one of his pockets.

Pinkie poked him, whispered “Time to get up!” in his ear and unplugged him. She put him on her back, went downstairs, and was soon out in the clear afternoon sun of Ponyville.

The market was bustling, though not as much as usual. Many ponies had filled up their houses with food the previous week, when the papers had convinced them that a massive wave of changelings was about to conquer all of Equestria. When that turned out not to happen, there were quite a few ponies trying to hide their embarrassment about having filled up their spare rooms with as much food as they could get their hooves on. It had been good for the market ponies and farmers, though.

Still, there were plenty of ponies shopping, and Pinkie was wearing herself out waving to all of her friends who, of course, was everypony. Mister Hugglebunny got a few odd looks, but then, he usually did.

Pinkie was a mare with a mission, today. Two days ago, she found out that Sunflower was coming back from Sweet Apple Acres and spending the afternoons in the movie theater, which was suddenly and mysteriously closed for business. When Pinkie had asked her about it, Sunflower had simply winked and said, “It’s a surprise!”

Pinkie loved surprises, usually. But that was only for surprises that were actually a surprise. To know about a surprise but having to wait for days and days to find out what it actually was made Pinkie’s brain itch. She just had to know! And, so, today was the day for finding Sunflower, turning on the puppy-dog eyes, and pestering her until she spilled the secret. It was the only tactic Pinkie had left. Nothing else had worked, not even a box of freshly-baked snickerdoodles!

“I wonder if Sunflower is done with her work at Sweet Apple Acres?” Pinkie asked Mister Hugglebunny. “If she did, then she’s probably at her house. Oh, I hope she’s learning all sorts of cool earth pony stuff out there. I wonder if I should teach her some of my own tricks?”

Slumped lazily across her back, Mister Hugglebunny’s silence spoke volumes. Pinkie sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “I’d better let her get the basic stuff down first. Thanks, Mister Hugglebunny!”

The rabbit on her back made that “bing!” sound that let her know that he had been listening. After a few seconds, his somber voice said, “I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie. I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Pinkie said. She continued on her way at a steady walk. She would have tried her usual pronking, but Mister Hugglebunny didn’t have the best grip strength in his plush little paws.

She found Sunflower standing outside of her house for some reason. The mare was across the street, standing in the shade of a tree, staring up at her roof with her eyes half-lidded. The weird little smile on her face looked a little like the one a pony got when they were looking at the last cupcake in a box and nopony else was around to take it first. When Pinkie got closer, she noticed that her friend was humming a tuneless little song.

Pinkie sidled up next to Sunflower and looked where she was looking. There were several humans up on the roof and, as far as Pinkie could tell, all of them were male. A couple of them weren’t wearing shirts, which Pinkie found strange. She’d never seen a half-clothed human before. But Sunflower had grown up seeing humans, so that couldn’t be what she was so interested in. Pinkie decided to ask her.

“Whatcha looking at?” Pinkie asked brightly.

“Gah!” Sunflower replied, jumping in place. She blinked, and then she said, “Pinkie!”

“Yup!”

“You startled me!”

“I wasn’t trying to.” Pinkie tilted her head at her. “You didn’t notice me walk up next to you?”

Sunflower blinked a couple more times, then cleared her throat and looked away while she scuffed the ground with a hoof. “Uh… No?”

“Oh.” Pinkie considered that for a moment, then shrugged. It probably wasn’t important. “So, what were you looking at?”

“Nothing!” Sunflower yelped. Then she cleared her throat. “Nothing. I was just… uh… trying to figure out how much work was left on the solar tiles.”

Pinkie used her own peepers to ponder the problem. “Looks like they’re a little over halfway, Sunflower,” she said. “That means they’ll be done by this weekend, probably, right?”

Sunflower sighed. “Yeah, I suppose so.” She glanced up at the shirtless humans on the roof and muttered, “It was fun while it lasted, I guess.”

Pinkie frowned as she looked at the humans. Sunflower had said “fun”. Something about the other humans being here was fun. Something about them leaving made Sunflower a little sad. She watched as one of the humans, a darker-skinned one Pinkie knew as Lucas, stretched his arms over his head then rubbed a shoulder. He certainly had some clearly-defined muscles and a distressing lack of body fat, she noted. Next to her, Sunflower let out a little sigh.

Gears turned in Pinkie’s head and eventually it clicked. She had just figured out why Sunflower was sad! Oh, why couldn’t she have figured it out before! On impulse, she hugged her friend, who turned to her with a confused expression.

“I know what’s bothering you,” Pinkie said. Sunflower’s eyes got really big for half a second, so Pinkie hurried to add, “Maybe we can invite some of the humans to stay here, so you don’t have to be the only human in Ponyville. What do you think?”

Sunflower looked confused for a second, then smiled. “Not a half-bad idea, Pinkie, but I don’t think these particular ones will want to stay.”

Pinkie’s ears drooped. “Oh. Well… maybe some new humans will show up and want to stay! You can have all sorts of human friends, so you won’t be lonely!”

The smile that broke out on Sunflower’s face warmed Pinkie’s heart. It didn’t hurt that she also found herself on the receiving end of a fierce hug from the other mare.

“I’m never lonely in Ponyville, Pinkie,” Sunflower said. “How can I be? You live here!”

Pinkie’s heart swelled with joy and her smile got so wide her face could barely hold it all.

“So, anyway,” Sunflower said, “I’ve been thinking about that surprise, and I decided I’d show you as long as you promise not to tell anypony else.”

Pinkie, who by this point had forgotten all about her super-important mission, gaped at the other mare for a moment. Then she let out an ear-sundering shriek of pure joy and jumped in the air, doing a double-backflip before landing back on her hooves. “You will?!”

“Uh…” Sunflower glanced at her own back, where Mister Hugglebunny had landed during Pinkie’s sudden outbreak of gymnastics. “Yeah, sure.”

“Hurray!” Pinkie cheered. And then, just to show she really meant it, she did a cartwheel. Sunflower giggled. “As a reward, I will allow you to carry Mister Hugglebunny,” Pinkie said.

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

Pinkie put on her serious face. “I have another reason,” she said in her serious voice.

“What’s that?”

“I feel the need to do a lot of bouncing, and he can’t hold on all that well.”

Sunflower chuckled. “Got it.”

The two of them made their way to the movie theater, with Sunflower walking and Pinkie Pie pronking along joyfully. They didn’t talk much, though that might have been because Pinkie was humming a cheerful little ditty to herself. It was a song she’d been working on for a while, but she didn’t have all the words to yet.

When they reached the Ponyville theater, Sunflower knocked. After a minute, the dark grey stallion who owned the place opened the door.

“Hi, Mister Lantern,” Pinkie said, waving.

The other pony broke into a wide grin. “Hullo, Pinkie,” Shadow Lantern replied in his Trottingham accent. “An’ Miss Sunflower. Was hopin’ you’d be back today, I was. The ‘lectrician pulled an all-nighter, and the workponies got everythin’ else set up this mornin’, sweet as popcorn. I was jes’ about to fire it up for a test. You can be my first audience!”

“That’s great!” Sunflower tipped Pinkie a wink as they followed the stallion inside. “You’re gonna love this.”

Sunflower led her to the theater’s seats, where she sat down and faced the screen. Mister Hugglebunny got his own seat on Sunflower’s left side. Pinkie didn’t join them at first, instead looking around and trying to figure out where the surprise was.

Sunflower nudged her in the ribs. “Pinkie, sit down.”

“But what’s the surprise?”

Sunflower rolled her eyes and patted the seat next to her. “You’re about to see it.”

It clicked, and Pinkie felt a little slow for not realizing earlier. “You brought a human movie!”

Sunflower snickered at that. “Not exactly.”

The lights went out. There was a click, a hum, and then music. A sepia-toned lion inside a circle with writing on it showed up on the movie screen. The lion roared, but without any of the flickering images or fuzzy sound that Pinkie was used to when watching a movie. In fact, this image looked almost as clear as the screen that Sunflower had given to them to watch movies on.

As the lion roared, Sunflower leaned over and whispered, “I brought a whole bunch of movies, and a digital projector with wireless remote speakers, too.”

The lion faded away, and a title screen came on.

“The Wizard of Oz,” Pinkie read aloud.

“I figured this would be a good movie to show everypony on the first human movie day,” Sunflower said.

Pinkie, overcome with emotion, smiled at her friend and then gathered her up in a big hug. “Oh, I love you so much, Sunflower!”

Giggling, Sunflower hugged Pinkie back before giving her a little push. “Oh, just watch the movie, you silly filly.”

Pinkie did so. After a few minutes, she asked, “So, I’m guessing the cow doesn’t have any lines?”

Sunflower just laughed.

The changeling sat up expectantly in its tiny cell. Someone was coming, someone with an aura both sharp and somehow warm. Someone who, unlike the guards it could sense on the other side of the thick steel door, actually wanted to be here. It was a familiar aura, one the changeling was surprised to find that it was eager to be near again.

The door opened, allowing the human named Raka into the cell. She looked around with a disdainful sniff. “I see they’ve at least brought in some furnishings,” she said.

It was true. The bench that had been the only furniture had been replaced with a low couch. There was also the addition of several cushions on the floor, big enough for the changeling to curl up and sleep in. The guard who had dropped them off had mentioned that they were dog beds. He had seemed oddly disappointed when the changeling had simply thanked him for them. They were oddly comfortable. The red one was its favorite.

“Yes,” the changeling said. It hopped off the bench and gestured towards it with one hole-riddled hoof. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

The changeling nodded. “I’m just as comfortable on the floor as I am on the bench,” it said.

“Well, thank you.” Raka sat down. Then she regarded the changeling curiously for a few minutes. “So, can we pick up where we left off yesterday?”

“If you wish,” the changeling said. Answering a few questions in return for being treated well seemed a fair trade, after all.

“First things first, though. I can’t keep calling you ‘changeling’, so I decided to give you a name.”

The changeling blinked. “Why? I told you about my designation, didn’t I?”

“You did, but it’s a mouthful. Having a simple name to call you by is just easier.”

The changeling considered this, then nodded. “I have no objections. If anything, I’m curious as to what you would name me.”

“Well, I have a few ideas. My first one is ‘Riddle’.”

“Riddle,” the changeling repeated. “Interesting choice. Why?”

“Well, I’m trying to figure out more about you.” Raka smiled and spread her hands out before her in a gesture that the changeling recognized as a shrug. “It seemed appropriate, I guess.”

“Riddle,” the changeling repeated. It thought about it for a long moment. “I find this acceptable. I’m Riddle.”

Raka snorted and shot him a bemused smile. “Don’t you want to hear my other choices?”

Riddle shook its head. “No need. I like Riddle.” It smiled. “Besides, I think I like it better than ‘Puzzle’ or ‘Conundrum’, and those seem to be obvious second choices.”

Warm laughter filled the room, and Riddle felt something completely unexpected from the human. A burst of warmth, a trickle of affection. It had been days since Riddle had last fed on any kind of love, and in its surprise, it almost missed its chance. The warm light from the human was small and nowhere near sufficient to sate its hunger, but it was still very welcome.

Riddle realized that there was now a chance for survival. Somehow, this Raka cared for it, even if just a little bit, without it being disguised as somepony else. Optimism wasn’t a very familiar concept to changelings, but Riddle was finding the experience enjoyable.

“So, what else do you want to know?” Riddle asked.

“We were going to discuss the various levels of changelings in a hive yesterday,” Raka said as she flipped through a notebook. “You mentioned something about changelings being able to go up levels?”

“Except for workers, yes,” Riddle replied. “Soldiers, like myself, can be… well, promoted, I guess. For each promotion, the changeling will be fed an overabundance of love nectar, which will allow them to grow larger, stronger, and smarter. When one reaches the rank of Captain, part of the change is that they may choose a gender, and even reproduce.”

“So, you’re currently asexual?” Raka asked as she scribbled in her notebook.

“Yes,” Riddle said. “Though, I was speculating towards female, should I ever make it that far.” It grimaced. “I won’t have that option, now. I will be a soldier for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, never say never,” Raka replied absentmindedly, still taking notes.

Riddle blinked at her, waiting for her to catch up and ask another question.

“Why female?” Raka asked eventually.

“Most soldiers are inclined towards females,” came Riddle’s prompt reply. “Since none but generals, nymphs, and Chrysalis herself can produce soldiers, Captains and higher are needed to maintain a supply of worker drones. That can be more easily accomplished with a larger number of females.”

Raka grimaced at that. When Riddle had explained about the workers, she’d shown some distaste towards the idea of an entire class of changelings, smaller and weaker than the others and barely sapient, whose only duty was to do the dirty work of the hive.

“Such a structured life, where even your breeding is so regulated,” Raka said. “I’m frankly amazed that you are so willingly giving us so much information. Doesn’t it bother you that we might be able to use this information against your queen?”

“Not my queen any longer,” Riddle said. “Should she ever find my mind again, she will crush it. She has to know that I won’t be subject to her will over here, and since I’m captured… Well. She doesn’t have the same option as she does for other changeling prisoners.”

“Which is?”

“Misinformation,” Riddle said. “Ordinarily, you can do whatever you like to a changeling prisoner. You can beat them, abuse them, any torture at all, and yet they’ll only tell you exactly what Chrysalis wants. It’s a wonderful way to spread lies amongst the enemy, and the queen has never been one to turn down an advantage.”

Raka frowned at Riddle, and then at her notebook. “How can I trust what you’re telling me now, then?”

“The gate is closed. I’m not being controlled by Chrysalis right now."

“That doesn’t mean you’re automatically telling the truth,” Raka pointed out.

Riddle considered this for a long moment, then shrugged. “I guess you have no way of knowing. I may be lying right now, though I have no reason to do so. For all you know, everything out of my mouth has been a lie.”

Suspicion grew in the human, tainting the room with a sour, acidic tang. “So why should I believe you’re telling the truth?”

“I have no reason not to, and my survival depends on your goodwill,” Riddle replied with a shrug. “I’ve been telling you the truth this whole time. After all, the queen isn’t in my head, forcing my mouth shut while you burn me and pluck out my eyes, allowing me to speak only when my torturers are convinced I’m thoroughly broken, and thus accepting the lies she feeds me as the absolute truth.”

Nausea replaced the suspiciousness that clouded the air between Raka and Riddle. “You say that as if it’s happened before,” she said.

“Oh, it has. To another soldier of the generation before mine, who was disguised as a merchant’s guardpony and captured by a band of griffon bandits. The information that Chrysalis gave them prompted them to move their territory several miles further south, which shifted trade routes as merchants moved to avoid their new territory. Thus bringing those merchants closer to our hive, which made it much easier for our soldiers to replace them.” Riddle shrugged. “Naturally, other changelings disguised as guards showed up to disperse the bandits before they could follow through on their plans of eating the prisoner. Our disguises fail when we die. It would have ruined the plan.”

“Well, at least they rescued it,” Raka muttered.

Riddle tilted its head. “Rescue? No, of course not. What use is a crippled soldier that will never recover?”

Outrage joined the nausea that filled the room, tainting the air in reds and oranges. “They killed it,” Raka said.

Riddle shrugged. “You’ve asked before why I don’t feel what you call ‘loyalty’ for the queen.”

“I think I know why, now,” Raka said, looking away.

Riddle looked at her, considering how much further these emotions could be pushed. Sympathy often led to affection, it knew, but too much horror might drive Raka away, and humans were an unknown quantity.

“Do you know how many changelings died when we tried to take Canterlot?” Riddle asked eventually.

Raka blinked and her brows lowered before she replied. Her confusion tinged the air. “No, I don’t.”

“Neither do I. Neither did Chrysalis. We’re all replaceable to her, so she never bothered counting. She just ordered her generals and daughters to begin producing replacements. Her defeat was far more important than our deaths, which was an inconvenience, but hardly tragic. All I know was how empty the hive felt. And so many wounded… Those unable to recover were no longer useful, of course, so the number of wounded dropped off quite rapidly.”

Raka looked away. Riddle watched silently, paying close attention to the emotions she was emitting. Finally the human cleared her throat. “I think I have enough for now.”

Riddle nodded. It waited a few seconds while Raka turned and walked towards the door. Just before she knocked, it called out. “Raka?”

Raka, her hand raised to knock, turned and looked back. “Yes?”

“Thank you for my new name,” Riddle replied. “I like it very much.”

Raka offered up a wavering smile, then rapped on the metal door. After she’d left, Riddle curled up in its red doggie bed, nose-to-tail, and considered the future. Raka would no doubt process all of what had been said. On her return, she would be so full of sympathy that she would almost subconsciously begin emitting more affection. Perhaps even enough to sustain Riddle for the foreseeable future.

If it were to be mapped, the hive of the changelings would look a little like an enormous cone. The bulk of it was underground, with a few disguised openings in the dry, hilly countryside that made up the area the ponies called the Badlands.

The higher up one was, the higher in rank they were. Generals and the six princess nymphs lived on the top layer, with hugely opulent chambers. Officers made up the second level. Their chambers were much more spartan, but they didn’t have to share. One level further down was where the common soldiery lived, huddled together in large rooms when they slept.

Workers had no need for sleep, so they had no rooms of their own. Instead, they simply worked until they died.

Various chambers were below the soldiers’, some for growing the fungi that made up the bulk of the changelings’ physical diet and others for the prisoners that fed them emotionally. Further down were the hatcheries, as well as large rooms for storage and for training. There was even a library, one that rivaled the Royal Library in Canterlot.

It was in this library that Chrysalis found herself. She had an ancient tome suspended in her magical field, open to a particular page. The header of the page read “The Last Prophecy of Queen Morphia”, and it contained a prophecy that was over a thousand years old. It had come to Queen Morphia in a vision during Nightmare Moon’s first attempt at bringing an eternal night.

The old queen had been planning her next move, now that Equestria was short one princess. Then the fit came over her and she had dropped to the ground, limbs quaking and jittering, as she shrieked out this prophecy.

Queen Chrysalis read the words once again, though she’d long since memorized them.

To a world unknown, a single deceiver journeys
Cast into the uncharted land, an alliance forged.
Capture control of the sun and moon.
Canterlot broken, cast down from the mountain.
The changelings shall rise, the one true Queen shall rule the changelings forevermore.

This wasn’t the first prophecy Queen Morphia had produced, but it was the one that had cost her the most physically. By the time she was done with the recitation, she was barely able to resist as her daughters devoured her. Three days later, once the fighting between them had ended with the deaths of all but one nymph, the newly-ascended Queen Ethereal had risen to the throne.

Chrysalis snorted, a wry smile etching across her features. She had first encountered this prophecy while still a nymph herself, barely hatched and competing with her sisters for favor and advantage in the court of Queen Phantasm. From the moment she had first seen it, she had been determined to be the one true queen that the prophecy foretold.

It was a misinterpretation of this prophecy that had led her to her ill-fated attempt to conquer Canterlot. “A single deceiver” had certainly meant a lone changeling. After planning for years, she had come to the conclusion that the “world unknown” meant Canterlot, and “uncharted land” could mean marriage, for no queen of the hive ever married. The alliance forged would then obviously mean her subjugated husband and whatever resources he would bring to her cause.

Wishful thinking, she knew now. Still, when she had managed to bring down Celestia, she had taken that as proof that she had been right all along.

But now she knew she had it right. Sending a single changeling to Earth had been something of a whim, prompted solely by the first two lines of the prophecy. After her disappointing attempt to conquer Equestria, she hadn’t expected very much from her new “single deceiver”. But now, an alliance was on the horizon. An alliance with a creature of unknown power.

Chrysalis eyed the soldier that stood unmoving next to her. With Chrysalis’ own power suppressing the changeling’s mind, the Infiltrator had taken it over quite easily. Its movements were still somewhat awkward but were improving at an impressive rate.

The gift of the soldier was both an attempt to curry favor with her strange new allies and a means to facilitate communication. Already, that gift was bearing fruit; the Infiltrator was an expert in strange magics completely unknown to the changelings, and had been teaching the changeling elite. The first spell it had shared had been a counter to the changeling-detection spells the ponies were using. It made the changeling casting it so unremarkable, so unnoticeable, that it would most likely be ignored by even the most attentive guards.

The applications of such a spell were numerous, the implications staggering.

Chrysalis held up the book near her right shoulder, where the Infiltrator could see it. “Does this mean anything to you?”

The Infiltrator glanced at the page. “Yes,” it said. “This is part of a larger prophecy. It speaks of the liberation of our world.”

“From the humans?” Chrysalis asked.

The Infiltrator didn’t answer. It did that sometimes.

Chrysalis scowled. “You promised assistance, correct?”

“Correct.”

“What is the rest of your prophecy?” Chrysalis already had a quill and scroll held in her magic, and she wrote quickly as the Infiltrator relayed the rest of the prophecy:

“Dreamers in the maelstrom, the chaos breaks the crystal chains
Magic flows, the mountain torn asunder
The lost are found, the deceiver grows powerful
A Goddess will arise to break time’s hold.”

Queen Chrysalis’ eyes gleamed with greed. “A goddess?” she repeated, then licked her lips. “I like the sound of that.” She eyed the Infiltrator. “Am I to be that goddess?”

The Infiltrator took a moment to answer. “It is a possible outcome.”

Chrysalis could have danced with glee. “This Caretaker of yours, I assume he knows all this?”

Again, there was that moment of hesitation. “The Caretaker will serve the Goddess when she walks the lands of Paradise.”

Joyful laughter rebounded off the walls of the changelings’ library. Chrysalis did dance, then, spinning in a graceful circle.

“I’m to be a goddess of two worlds!” she cried as she came to a halt. “Three, if I can bring the humans in line. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

The Infiltrator didn’t answer. This time, Chrysalis didn’t notice the silence, caught up as she was in her dreams.

Eventually, she calmed. Now was a time for planning. She made her way to the Queen’s council chamber, sending a mental command to summon her daughters and her generals as she did so. Though communication could take place over any distance, Chrysalis still preferred to be face-to-face with those under her direct command. She liked to see them obeying her.

They were all there by the time she arrived. Dozens of glowing azure eyes turned to her as she swept her way to her throne.

“My children,” Chrysalis intoned. “We have plans to make. A time of great change is upon us, one that will see the changeling race changed forever.” She turned to the Infiltrator. “What are your thoughts on how to begin?”

The Infiltrator didn’t respond for a few seconds. When its answer finally came, every changeling in the room heard it.

“First, you must capture those who can control the sun and moon… “

Chapter 17: Dreams, prophecies and portents

Celestia awoke, feeling crowded by a sense of dread that compressed her chest, making her breathe in short gasps. Her eyes flicked around her bedroom. Nothing was out of place, nothing seemed threatening, and yet that sense of danger, of wrongness, still loomed over her.

Something terrible is going to happen.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, she knew. Far better for her to get an early start on her day. A quick shower was in order, and perhaps some calming tea. Her horn glowed, removing her blankets as she rose. Celestia set her hooves onto the soft rug that muffled the chill of the stone floor. She turned and froze, her breath catching in her throat. There was something unfamiliar in her room.

The figure was shrouded in shadow, a blur in the darkness. It was hunched over, head towards the floor. Celestia lit her horn, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, which served to illuminate the figure before her while somehow making the remaining shadows starker, sharper than before.

A pony stood in her room, one who was unfamiliar at first. On either side, wings drooped towards the floor, and Celestia first thought it was a pegasus. Then Celestia saw the horn and knew who this pony was.

“Erin?” Celestia’s fear began to drain away, though the sense of dread remained. Something about Erin’s posture was wrong, unnatural. Her front legs were splayed wide, and her head dangled limply between her knees. A muttering filled the air, and Celestia realized that Erin was speaking, her voice low and all the words crowding together.

“...prisoner…” Erin was muttering, her head still hanging towards the floor. “...break the mountain… two… become three... “

“Erin?” Celestia took a cautious step forward. However it was that Erin had been able to enter her bedchambers could be addressed later. Right now, the mare needed assistance. “Erin, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

The muttering continued, becoming louder. Celestia could make out more of it, now, though what she heard didn’t fill her with comfort.

“Free the prisoner in stone. Break the mountain, free the dream. Two, separate, will become three, broken.”

“Erin, please look at me,” Celestia said, taking another step forward.

The muttering cut off. Erin’s ears flicked madly, as if swarmed by flies. Then her head snapped upright so abruptly that Celestia took a startled step back.

The features were familiar: the same tumble of auburn mane, the same sandy coat. But her eyes were deep black pools that seemed to trap any light that came near her. An expression of overwhelming sorrow was on her features, made horrible by the black pits of her eyes.

“Canterlot will fall,” the thing that looked like Erin rasped. “Free the prisoner, or chaos will reign forever!”

There was a sound like the crack of thunder as Celestia’s forehoof struck the stone of her bedroom. “What are you?” she demanded. “Where is Erin?”

“The future will break you if you remain alone, Dawnbringer,” the Erin-thing cried. “Free the prisoner. Free the prisoner!”

“What prisoner? I don’t understand!”

A loud cry shook Celestia’s world. At first, she thought it was coming from the thing that looked like Erin. Then a pair of tiny hooves impacted on her ribcage, and her eyes snapped open.

She was lying in her bed, breathing heavily. Her blankets were tangled amongst her sweat-soaked limbs, and Prince Verdant was pushing urgently on her chest with his little green hooves.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” the little prince was saying, his voice insistent and urgent.

It took a moment for Celestia to take it all in. What she knew now as a dream was slowly fading, but it left behind that sense of wrongness, that feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Prince Verdant was crying, his face clenched in a mask of desperation. He pushed frantically with his hooves, and Celestia raised her head to nuzzle him.

“It’s alright, dear. I’m awake. I’m awake.” She rearranged herself, and the little colt curled up like a kitten in between her forelegs. “Did you have a bad dream, little one?”

He didn’t reply, but she could feel Verdant’s nod against her chest. She stroked his mane with a hoof.

“Don’t worry, it was just a dream,” Celestia said, even as the remains of her own were refusing to fade completely. “Your Aunt Luna would protect you from any really bad dreams.”

Prince Verdant didn’t say anything, but his breathing settled down. Celestia was certain he’d fallen asleep when he spoke suddenly.

“Free th’prisner,” he mumbled.

A shard of ice formed in Celestia’s chest even as the little colt finally drifted back to sleep.

Erin was once again galloping through a dark and threatening forest on cracked, bloody hooves. The bushes and brambles growing all around clawed at her mane and tail and left scratches across her coat as she pushed through them. All the while, a menacing voice whispered, gibbered and laughed in her ear as she ran, unable to stop her mad plunge through the Everfree.

It was a sequence of events that she found all too familiar. And, as horrible as this was, what was coming was even worse. She wanted the running to end, but she didn’t want to arrive at her destination. But, soon enough, she broke through. The dread forest faded, and she found herself standing on a field of dry grey stone, crazed, cracked and crumbling as it extended as far as she could see.

The forest was gone, now. The only thing in sight was a small metal hut, built out of pre-fabricated pieces. The windows were blackened, and the single door loomed ahead of her. Beneath her bloody hooves, an enormous thing rolled and surged under the stone. But the thing that was down there was no threat, struggling in its death throes. What was behind that door was far worse.

Though she was once again able to control her body, she refused to move. Instead, she stared at the door, dread suffocating her as her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t look away. If she did, she’d somehow find herself closer to the door. And, if it came in reach, she might open it and reveal what was on the other side.

The part of her that knew she was dreaming knew that this was the time when she typically heard the step of a hoof beside her, and tonight was no exception. Erin didn’t turn her head, instead keeping the shed pinned down with her gaze.

“Hello, Pinkie,” Erin said.

“Wrong pony,” a familiar voice said. “Howdy, Erin.”

“Applejack?” Erin gaped at the other pony for a moment before panic set in. She’d taken her eyes off of the door! She turned back, a mewling sound of distress escaping her throat when she saw that it was only a few feet away, now. “How..? Why… What are you doing here?”

“Laughter weren’t working,” Applejack replied. “Maybe it’s time to give honesty a chance. What’s in there?”

Erin kept her eyes nailed to the door. “I… I don’t know.”

Applejack sighed next to her and Erin felt shame at the lie.

“Is it really so bad?” Applejack asked, her voice kind. “What’s on the other side of that door, I mean.”

Erin grimaced, not replying. Lying to Applejack wasn’t an option. Anything she said now would just trap her further.

“Why not just open it and get it over with?” Applejack prompted.

“I can’t,” Erin whispered back.

“Why not? Can’t be worse than havin’ to go through this over an’ over again. Ain’t you gettin’ tired of it?”

Erin’s throat worked as she swallowed back a sob.

Applejack sighed again. “Look at ya. You’re standin’ there, shiverin’ with fear. You keep endin’ up here, an’ it makes ya miserable. Why not open the door? At least that’ll be something different.”

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then Erin said, “I know I can handle this. I just have to hold on, and I can get through. I can just keep the door shut, and I’ll be okay. But, if I open it…”

A long silence stretched between the two of them. Then Applejack said, “If you open it, you don’t know how things’ll change.”

Erin nodded wordlessly, not taking her eyes off of the door.

“An’ that’s a scary thing,” Applejack continued. “Even if you’re miserable now, at least it’s a miserable you can deal with. So, instead of confrontin’ what’s hurtin’ ya, you keep it locked up behind that door.”

Her eyes felt hot. Misery, shame and guilt. And anger. And fear. She wanted nothing more than to run away from all of it—

“Runnin’ away won’t fix this, and you know it,” Applejack said. “It’s all inside of ya.”

Resentment sparked. “That’s not fair,” Erin said.

“Bein’ fair ain’t the same as honest,” Applejack replied. “Open the door. It can’t be worse than this.”

“And if it is?” Erin asked, voice trembling.

“Well, ain’t that what you got friends for? To help you when things get bad?”

She looked away from the door and into Applejack’s bright green eyes, seeing herself reflected back in them. Erin was a mess, her mane tangled and her red-rimmed eyes haunted. She nodded.

The door to the shed was right in front of her when she turned back to face it, and she nearly decided to run away again. But Applejack was still by her side, and she could somehow feel the presence of her other friends, too.

She reached out a shaking hoof and pushed the door open.

The interior of the shed was all shadowed darkness, and shapes she only recognized because she’d been here once before, when she was awake. There was a table, surrounded by cheap metal folding chairs. Along the right wall were fold-out cots, currently unoccupied.

Directly in front of her was a pony, far larger than her. It was dark green, mostly, except for where its fur and hide had been stripped clean by the Black Tide’s nanomachines and healed a bright pink by the Elements of Harmony. Its limbs ended in stumps that twitched and jerked aimlessly. A pathetic stubble of black mane ran up its neck and along the top of its head.

Erin drew in a deep, hitching breath, then slowly let it out. The sound of hoofsteps told her that Applejack had come up beside her.

“What do I do now?” Erin asked, her voice trembling.

Applejack didn’t reply at first, instead leaning against Erin’s shoulder, offering support. “I think that’s what you gotta figure out.”

Erin stared at the miserable wretch on the floor in front of her. “Okay,” she said eventually. She stepped forward, trying to come up with something to say. A dozen ways to start flashed through her mind, only to be discarded. Finally, she just said what she felt.

“I didn’t want this,” she said to the thing on the floor. She almost stopped, then, but something goaded her on. “A part of me was hoping you would die. I hated you for what you did to me. I… I think I still do. No, I know I do. You hurt me. You controlled me. I was completely helpless. And terrified. And I was scared of you, and I hate you for that. But I didn’t want this.”

The mutilated form of Malachite shifted on the floor and rolled his eyes, not looking at her. The stump of his left foreleg rubbed along the floor, and Erin shivered at the sound of it.

“You saved my world. Or, at least, you helped to do so. A part of me wants to be grateful, but… then this happened. Everything is all mixed up in my head, now. And I hate you for that, too, because it still hurts me.”

Erin stared at him for a while, writhing on the floor in her dream. He was a sad, broken creature. She closed her eyes as tears began to fall.

“I’ll never forget what you did, and… I’m not going to say it’s okay. But I forgive you. Not for your sake, but for mine. So I can stop hating, so I can stop being afraid. So I can maybe stop coming to this damned place.”

What was left of Malachite had stopped moving sometime during Erin’s speech. She opened her eyes and frowned at the shadows where he’d lain, seeing that the space was empty. Malachite was gone. He’d been gone for a while.

Erin drew in a shuddering breath, held it, then let it go.

“How ya feelin’?” Applejack asked.

She thought about it for a long moment. “Better,” she said. “Better than I’ve felt in a while. You were right, I should have done that ages ago.” She looked at her friend and smiled. “Should we get going?”

Applejack shook her head. “One person left you gotta forgive, Erin,” the farm pony said in a voice that brooked no argument.

“Who’s that?”

Applejack didn’t reply, simply staring back at her with a sad little smile on her face. Once again, Erin saw herself reflected in those green eyes.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Erin said, then let out a shaky laugh. “I couldn’t have stopped it. It’s not my fault I was too weak… too weak to stop it happening…” She trailed off, her mouth moving as the words got stuck in her throat.

Applejack came up and pressed her chest into Erin’s, bringing one foreleg up into a hug across her withers. The tears started up again, her eyes burning with them.

“Why?” Erin asked. “Why do I hate myself so much for that? I know it wasn’t my fault. It was the override, I couldn’t have stopped it. So, why…?”

“Logically, you shouldn’t blame yourself at all,” Applejack said softly in her ear. “Nothin’ you coulda done. But does this feel like a logical situation?”

That was enough to break the dam. Erin collapsed against her friend’s shoulders as wracking sobs tore their way out of her. She finally let herself fall apart, leaning against Applejack’s strength as it all drained out of her. A part of her felt shame at her lack of control, and a clamoring voice in her head was urgently trying to tell her to get a hold of herself, to stop making a scene, to not make a mess all over Applejack’s shoulder, but she couldn’t stop. Instead, she simply clung to her friend as she would a life preserver during a storm at sea.

It was true. As stupid as she knew it was, there was a part of her that felt like she should have been able to stop Malachite. If she’d been smart enough, or strong enough, she could have done it. Erin knew it wasn’t true, but the feeling had never quite gone away. There was a part of her that truly believed that she could have willed herself back into control of a body that was designed to be controlled remotely.

The bout of crying went on for a long time, slowly working its way down to a case of the sniffles. Erin drew her head back, casting a guilty glance at Applejack’s coat, where the evidence of her weakness remained in the matted and damp orange coat.

“Don’t you worry about that none, y’hear?” Applejack said sternly. “A little mess ain’t gonna come between good friends. We just gotta help each other through the bad parts, is all.” Applejack smiled and held Erin’s head in both forehooves. “But maybe that’s a discussion for another day. I don't think we're outta the woods yet, but I reckon we covered more than enough ground tonight. I’m downright proud of ya.”

Erin felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she looked away. “I didn’t do much of anything.”

Her self-effacement was rewarded with a rap of a hoof on her forehead, just under the horn. “None of that, now,” Applejack said, voice stern. “It’s been a long time comin’, but you finally started working through the bad stuff tonight.”

Erin smiled over at her friend, just for a moment before the world seemed to spin around her. Then she frowned. “This is all a dream,” she realized.

Applejack nodded. “Yup.”

“You… Are you really Applejack?”

Her friend tilted her hat down over her face, obscuring her eyes, but her mouth twitched up in that familiar, mischievous half-smile that Applejack sometimes wore when she was pulling a fast one.

“A discussion for another day,” Applejack said. “Besides, you’ve gotta wake up, now. Ain’t that your alarm?”

Erin’s eyes shot open and she glanced around to see her tablet’s screen lit up as it beeped away on the nightstand next to her.

With a sigh, she shut it off. Then she rolled onto her back, being careful not to crush her wings.

“‘Come to Equestria and have weird dreams’,” Erin muttered. “They should put that on the travel brochures.”

She yawned and stretched all four of her legs straight out above her. It was almost too early, but she knew Jerry and the others would be here soon. Lucas and his crew had almost finished installing the solar tiles, and Jerry was nearly completed with the electrical upgrades. When he was done, Erin’s house would not only have a battery backup for electricity, but it would also be able to use power from both the tiles and from Ponyville’s somewhat spotty electrical grid.

Then there was the Wi-Fi equipment, which was nearly complete as well, and installed in a small closet that Erin didn’t plan on using. There was a diagram printed out and taped to the inside of the closet door that listed what each piece of equipment was, and how to maintain it. For the most part, that seemed to mostly boil down to “If it doesn’t work, unplug it for a few seconds, and then plug it back in.”

As usual, Erin opted not to shower right away. Her morning was going to be spent at Sweet Apple Acres getting dirty, tired and sweaty, after all. Instead, she ran a brush through her mane and tail a few times to get the worst of the snarls out before trotting off, leaving her door unlocked so Jerry, Lucas and the others could get in if needed.

Erin trotted briskly towards the Apple’s farm, looking forward to the big Apple family breakfast in store for her.

Twilight settled her saddlebags across her back, giving the apartment one last look just to make absolutely sure that she hadn’t left anything behind. She even opened each and every drawer and cupboard in the place, even though she knew she hadn’t used any of them.

“Triple-check the room before we leave,” she said. “Check!”

“Check,” Spike repeated, making a mark on the checklist.

“Alright, I think we can—” A sharp knock on the door interrupted Twilight mid-sentence. “Huh. I wonder who that could be?”

Opening the door revealed a slightly-sweaty guard, the sunburst medallion on his barding indicating that he was a member of Celestia’s personal Solar Guard.

“Miss Twilight Sparkle,” the guard intoned formally. “Princess Celestia would like to request the pleasure of your company in the Autumn Yellow Tea room. If you’ll kindly accompany me?”

“I know the way,” she said as she grabbed Spike in her telekinetic aura and plopped him on her back. “Hold on, Spike, okay?”

Spike’s panicked response was almost instantaneous. “Wait, Twi—”

One flash of magic, a jerking sensation and a feeling of being firmly squeezed for a few seconds, and she appeared with a bang in the Autumn Yellow Tea Room. It was a space Twilight was fairly familiar with. Princess Celestia only seemed to come to this particular room when there was a lot going on. She had once told Twilight that it was her “special sanctuary.”

“—light,” Spike finished, then groaned as he slid off of her back. “Ugh… I hate teleporting.”

Princess Celestia was already there, alone, drinking tea out of a chipped porcelain cup. Typically, no servants were allowed in this room except to clean up. She looked up with a single arched brow that turned into a smile when she saw who had just intruded on her tea time.

“Sorry, Spike,” Twilight said as the little dragon staggered over to a nearby cushion and flopped down on his back. It was true, teleporting could be extremely disorienting if you weren’t used to it. She felt fine, herself. All of her recent practice mean that she barely felt a twinge after teleporting. “Princess, you wanted to see me?”

“Welcome, Twilight. Yes, I did. And, while I’m very pleased to see your progress with teleporting, I would have been perfectly happy to wait until you had a chance to walk here.”

Twilight looked down and scuffed a hoof along the floor. “Sorry, Princess. I thought it might be urgent.”

“Urgent? I’m… uncertain of that. Very definitely important, however.”

“You can count on me, Princess!” Twilight said staunchly.

“How is Erin doing?” Princess Celestia asked. “Adjusting well to life in Ponyville?”

“Uh…” Twilight exchanged a look with Spike, who shrugged and rolled over, closing his eyes. She considered the question for a moment. “Last I checked, yes. She was starting to study magic. I gave her a beginner’s guide. I know she wants to learn flying, too. I’m not sure how much she’s managed to learn, though, since I’ve been in Canterlot for the last week or so.”

“Has she mentioned anything about a prisoner? Specifically, freeing a prisoner of stone? Or two becoming three and breaking? Or anything about mountains, I suppose.”

“No, Princess,” Twilight said, then added slowly, “Though, the prisoner sounds familiar. I think I read that in a book.”

The Princess regarded her for a long moment, as if deciding what to say. Twilight shifted nervously from hoof to hoof, her ears flicking.

“I had a bad dream last night,” Celestia said finally.

Twilight blinked, drawing her head back. “Oh. I… I see?”

“This was no ordinary dream,” Celestia continued, her face drawn and tight. “I think it was a vision, of sorts. A warning of things to come.” A tired smile crept across her face. “I have those, sometimes.”

“I see…” Twilight said. The first inklings of excitement were making themselves known. Was Celestia going to ask her to interpret her dream? Was it going to be part of some prophecy? How exciting! But wait, what if she got it wrong, and Equestria was doomed because she wasn’t any good at dream interpretation?

Come to think of it, Twilight realized that she had started reading a book on dream interpretations a few days ago, but put it aside when she’d realized that it had nothing to do with entering the Dreamrealms. What if the information she’d needed was in that book? And now, Equestria was going to be doomed because Twilight couldn’t have been bothered to finish it! And, worse, the Princess was going to set her a task that she would fail!

“Twilight?”

Twilight snapped herself back to attention. The panic didn’t go away, but it did fade. “Yes, Princess?”

“I’ll tell you as much as I can remember. I’d like your honest impression.”

“Okay,” Twilight said.

“And please, try to relax. Have a seat, perhaps have some tea. You look far too tense.”

“Okay.” Twilight marched over and sat stiffly on a cushion. She took in a deep breath and then let it out, making a pushing motion with her hoof as she did so. Cadance had taught her that trick. She’d said it was to “push away the stress”.

It worked, at least a little bit. Twilight felt her muscles relaxing slightly, and she even managed to direct a tiny smile Celestia’s way. At least, until Spike’s unexpected snore ripped through the room. Twilight burst into uncontrollable laughter, causing the little dragon to sit up with a grumble and move to a different corner of the room.

Celestia smiled fondly at the dragon before looking back to Twilight. “Alright, then. My dream.”

“One moment, please, Princess,” Twilight said. Her horn lit up, and she pulled a scroll, quill and ink out of her saddlebags. “I think it would be a good idea to write this down, so I don’t forget any details.”

The Princess’ smile turned merry for a moment. “Since when have you ever forgotten a detail?”

The smile was infectious, and Twilight felt herself returning it. The relaxed attitude prompted Twilight to be a little daring in response. “There’s a first time for everything,” she quipped.

Celestia chuckled in response, then took a sip of her tea as her eyes took on a faraway cast. Then she started speaking. “In my dream, I awoke in my bedroom with a terrible sense of some impending disaster…”

Twilight listened intently while she wrote the details of Celestia’s dream, barely letting herself think about the implications of what was happening. This was Princess Celestia, relating one of her dreams to her. What other pony could claim to be privy to such a thing? Well, besides Luna, Twilight realized.

It wasn’t a very long dream, and Celestia waited patiently while Twilight re-read what she’d written down.

“‘Prisoner in stone,” Twilight said. “I know I’ve read…” Her eyes widened and she bolted to her hooves, horn glowing. “Wait! I know!”

A loud snap of magic and displaced air preceded that familiar sense of pressure and momentary disorientation. Lucky for her, the Princess had been right when she’d mentioned that nopony else had taken over her old room at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, or Twilight could have found herself in an incredibly awkward social situation as she suddenly popped into somepony else's living quarters.

It didn’t take her long to find the book she was looking for, laying where she’d left it right before being sent to Ponyville for the first time. There was another crack of displaced air as Twilight teleported back to the Autumn Yellow Tea Room. The glow of magic from the teleport had barely faded, and Twilight already had the book open, flipping pages magically as she scanned the different entries.

“Ah! Here we go. Predictions and Prophecies, page three-hundred and eleven.” Twilight quickly read the passage, her eager smile replaced by a worried frown as the words sunk in.

The prisoner of stone stands alone in the garden of the Sun
and Must be freed Before the two Becomes three and Canterlot falls.
Chaos tamed by the heart of Kindness, taught the true meaning of Friendship
Or Harmony shall never be restored.

The meaning of at least part of it was pretty clear. Twilight felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, which at least distracted her from the baffling capitalization of apparently random words in the passage.

“Twilight? What does it say?”

Twilight shook herself and passed the book over to Celestia.

“Oh, dear,” Celestia said. “I’ve just realized who the ‘prisoner in stone’ is. In retrospect, it seems obvious.”

Twilight nodded. “Discord. Though, how he is supposed to help prevent a disaster is beyond me. What concerns me more is the part about ‘chaos tamed by the heart of kindness’. That can’t mean Fluttershy, can it?”

“Hmm…” Princess Celestia stared at a point above Twilight’s head for a few seconds. “That may make a certain amount of sense.”

Twilight blinked and pawed nervously at the carpet. “No offense, Princess, but I can’t see Fluttershy willing to be anywhere near a creature like Discord. He was awful!”

“But not as awful as he could have been,” Celestia replied.

The Princess' voice was unusually subdued, her eyes distant. Discord hadn't been as bad as he could have been? Twilight shivered at the thought. “What do you mean?”

“It’s something I noticed when he was free last time. Luna and I had planned on keeping him distracted while you searched for the Elements. I can't tell you how worried I was when he simply ignored us!" Celestia shuddered, her feathers ruffling as a pained grimace crossed her features. "And then came confusion. What Discord did to you and your friends was terrible, but it was nowhere near as bad as what he’s truly capable of.” Celestia frowned as she looked down at the prophecy. “I have to wonder if he was changed at all by exposure to the Elements. And if a second exposure changed him even further.”

“It’s hard to imagine him being worse,” Twilight said, her skin crawling with revulsion. “Princess, what Discord did to me lingered for weeks. And I know I’m not the only one who had nightmares about it.”

“I understand, Twilight. And, yet… he was still less malevolent than he’d been centuries earlier.” Princess Celestia got to her hooves. “It’s something to consider and discuss with my sister. I promise you this, though: If Fluttershy refuses, I won’t push it on her.”

“But what will happen then?”

A wry smile appeared on Celestia’s face. “Well, in that case, we’ll just have to face whatever future this prophecy predicts without the help of the mad spirit of chaos.”

The building that housed the Manehattan University of the Arcane Sciences actually predated the founding of the city itself by several centuries. The oldest part of the university was also the smallest, distinct from the rest due to the large blocks of rough grey stone used in its construction, still marked black in places by the countless torches that had burned in wall sconces through the centuries, now replaced by smokeless magical lanterns. Newer additions to the facility typically didn't bother matching the earlier ones, meaning that students studying the history of architecture could get quite the education just from wandering the grounds.

Archmage Silverwell Starfall was just beginning his relaxation routine in his private study when sharp knocks sounded from the heavy oaken door to his apartments. Grumbling, he levitated his thick half-moon glasses back onto his muzzle, set aside his ancient teacup and forced himself up and off of his threadbare red couch. His knees and hocks creaked in protest as he picked his way through the cluttered rooms, reaching his front door just as another three knocks sounded.

“Yes, yes,” he snapped as he flung open the door with a burst of magic. Three young ponies stood there, the one in front with his hoof raised as if to knock again. “What do you want? It’s after hours!”

“We were hoping we could ask you some questions, Professor Starfall,” the one in the center said. “May we come in?”

Professor Silverwell scowled at the three unicorns before him, a mare and two stallions. One of the stallions was larger than the other, and it was this one who had spoken. The mare next to him had a smile that was rather unsettling. A word tried to suggest itself to the Archmage, but was gone before he could grasp it. Something starting with the letter “p”, he decided, then shrugged it off.

The third stallion was much smaller than the others, standing in the shadows as if he belonged there, his face expressionless.

“I don’t entertain students after hours. I’ve always been very clear on that,” Silverwell snapped, drawing his neck up managing to look down his muzzle at the mare and stallion, in spite of them being taller than him by a head. “Get a tutor if you need help with your coursework!”

“It’s not about classes,” the larger male said. “Please, Professor. It’s urgent that we speak to you. There’s something of critical importance going on that we think you need to know about. May we come in?”

The professor chewed peevishly on his scraggly mustache for a moment, then grunted. “Fine. But watch that you don’t knock anything over!”

He turned and walked back into his apartment, hearing the students walk through the doorway behind him. As the first crossed the threshold, Silverwell hesitated briefly before smiling. Predatory. That was the word he’d been looking for to describe the mare’s smile. Professor Silverwell chuckled and shook his head. His memory wasn’t what it used to be.

“One moment,” he said as he turned and faced the three, “I’m going to clear up some of this clutter right quick.”

He ignored the grumbles from the mare as he lit his horn. His sitting room was indeed a mess, with books and scrolls covering nearly every flat surface that wasn’t already occupied by an empty teacup in a saucer. Books were levitated into the nearby hallway, where they were stacked neatly. Scrolls were gathered up and placed inside his old roll-top desk, which was then levitated into the same hallway as his books. Levitating that many objects at once was tricky, especially when he was keeping an eye on his three guests rather than on what he was moving, but he wasn’t an Archmage for nothing.

After the books and scrolls were moved to safety, the furniture was moved to the far wall, clustered together so as to take as little space as possible. He was just dropping the last of his many end-tables on top of his couch when the male student spoke again.

“Very… interesting cleaning job, Professor,” he said. “But where can we sit if your furniture is all piled up like that?”

Archmage Silverwell snorted and turned to face the three of them. The mare was scowling petulantly, while the larger stallion simply looked nervous. The smaller stallion was standing in the doorway, his eyes half-lidded as he looked around the room.

“Some of that furniture is centuries old,” he said, contempt coloring his voice. “I moved it out of the way so it won’t be damaged, as I expect a fight after I refuse to offer hospitality to a group of changelings.”

The mare gasped, and the larger stallion startled, drawing his head back and laying his ears flat. Then he smiled slowly, his horn glowing as he used his magic to shut the thick oak door behind him. “Interesting. What gave us away?”

“Wards on my doorway to tell me exactly who it is visiting me,” the Archmage replied. “I’m no fool, and you’ve bitten off more than you can chew with me. I’ll allow you to surrender now, if you like.”

The mare goggled at him blankly before breaking out in laughter. “Oh, he’s funny!” she said in a lilting voice. “Can we keep him?”

Silverwell stomped a forehoof and activated the spells he’d inscribed in the air between them while he’d been rearranging his furniture. Fortunately, these changelings either didn’t know or had neglected to cast the spell required to see another pony’s spell workings, which allowed him to take them by surprise.

A shield sprung up around him as the first circle lashed out, banishing the changelings’ pony forms. A much more complicated array comprised of several interlinked circles all spinning together activated to create a zone of anti-magic around the three of them, denying them the chance to strike back. Still more circles, these inscribed on the floor beneath his unwanted guests, magnified gravity ten-fold. The two changelings hit the floor with a solid thud, him with a pained grunt and her with a shrill cry of distress.

“How amused are you now, dear?” Professor Silverwell said, then cackled. “I’m finding this pretty funny, myself!” He regarded the two of them closely. “Hmm… If I’m not mistaken, what I have here is a rare changeling general, and an even more rare changeling nymph. Am I correct?”

The general managed to pull his head up off of the floor, his neck trembling with the effort. He grinned and gasped out, “You missed one.”

Silverwell took a step back, his eyes shooting towards the third changeling. A shocked gasp tore its way out of his muzzle at what he saw. The small changeling was not only standing and still in its pony form, but its horn was glowing a sickly green. It was casting, somehow, in spite of the anti-magic field that should have been covering it.

“How…?” Professor Silverwell’s own horn lit up as he cast a quick spell to show any enchantments or castings in the area. What he saw filled his veins with ice-water.

The small changeling was casting the most incredible, most complex array of interlocked spell circles that the Archmage had ever seen in his life, making the room look as if it were inside of a giant clock. Many of the runes and connections were completely alien to him, twisting to form eye-blurring patterns in the air. It formed a hemisphere that rose to the ceiling, encompassing the entire room. The Archmage looked up with a sinking feeling as he realized that he was standing right in the center of it.

“Initiating capture,” the changeling said in a dull monotone.

The array collapsed inward, shattering his shield and smothering both the Archmage’s own magical constructs along with his cry of distress. He collapsed onto the dusty rug on his floor, wrapped in the changeling’s strange magic.

Panic welled in his chest as he tried desperately to teleport, or to shield himself. The changeling nymph’s hoof came down right in front of his muzzle, and he rolled his eyes up to her sneering countenance.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m still finding this funny.”

There was a burst of green light, and then the changeling general stepped up next to the nymph. He was wearing the Archmage’s own form as he grinned down at him. The nymph disguised herself once again, then lifted Professor Silverwell up with her magic.

“One moment, Princess,” the general said, his horn lighting up. Silverwell felt his thick glasses rising off of his muzzle. “I’ll be needing these.”

“Is that everything?” the nymph asked.

“Should be,” the general replied in Professor Silverwell’s voice.

“Good,” the nymph said. Then, to the small changeling, “Take us home, Infiltrator.”

The third changeling’s horn glowed green, and a section of the air twisted, resolving itself into a rectangle the size of a large doorway with what looked like a dark cavern on the other side.

“Come along, then,” the nymph said primly as she trotted through the gateway hanging in the air while ignoring his muffled protests. “We have accommodations ready and waiting, just for you!”

The Infiltrator followed them, then lit its horn again. The magical doorway in the Professor’s sitting area untwisted and the cavern disappeared.

The changeling general looked around at what was now his apartments, at least for the moment. Some quick levitation work moved the couch, chairs and tables back to their original locations, or at least close enough that nopony was likely to notice.

The new Professor Silverwell made his way to the study and relaxed on the old, threadbare red couch. He looked around, then spotted something that made him smile. Horn glowing, he raised the ancient teacup to his lips and took a sip.

Author's Notes:

Hopefully, all these dream sequences and prophecies aren't too jarring. I had originally planned on introducing them more gradually, but now I'm trying to pick up the pace of the story.

We sometimes have fun in the comments during the editing/prereading part of this. BrilliantPoint picked this out as his favorite bit:

Again shenanigans ensue during editing:

“Don’t you worry about that none, y’hear?” Applejack said sternly. “A little mess ain’t gonna come between good friends. And sometimes friendship is messy.”

BP: Gah! Bad brain!
MerlosTheMad: Gah!x2
Hoopy McGee: Guys.. >_<;; Changed this from "And sometimes friendship is messy." to "We just gotta help each other through the bad parts, is all."

Chapter 18: Journey

Luna gave a guilty start at the sound of hoofsteps outside of the Royal Sisters’ private dining hall. The piles of paper strategically placed around her breakfast of strawberry-smothered waffles erupted from the table as she began to frantically gather them up in her magic, arranging them into a single untidy stack. She’d just managed to get them all together just as the door opened, though she realized with a sinking sensation that there was no reasonable place for her to hide them all.

Princess Celestia stood in the doorway, looking down at her younger sister with a small and disapproving frown on her muzzle. The young Prince Verdant was nestled between Celestia’s folded wings, curled into a ball and breathing the steady, deep breaths of the soundly asleep.

“Luna. I thought we had agreed that there was to be no more working during breakfast?”

Perhaps it was Luna's guilty conscience that caused her to flinch at the disappointed tone in her sister's voice. “Ah, yes… well, you see, you weren’t here yet, and I have a simply ridiculous amount of correspondence to get through before Day Court begins.”

Celestia settled into the cushions directly across from Luna. Her horn glowed, lifting the young prince off of her back and settling him into his own cushions next to her, which he nuzzled down into with a grumble and a sigh without waking.

“I understand,” Celestia said. She broke into a wry smile. “Believe me, I do.” She frowned at the large and irregular stack of paper. No two leafs were the same size or weight, and their colors ranged from plain white to creamy beige, along with the occasional red, blue or pink mixed in with the rest. “What is all of that? And why not let the administrative staff handle most of it?”

Luna scowled as she set the papers back down on the table. “Because these letters are mostly from noble families with enough influence to insist upon getting my personal attention. Half of them are calling upon me to step down from my position, half are complaints about my competency, half are blatant attempts to curry favor through base flattery, and the rest are none-too-subtle hints of how our lines should be joined in matrimony at the first opportunity.”

Celestia chuckled. “By my count, that is at least three ‘halfs’, sister.”

“Yes. There may be some overlap.”

Celestia gave an introspective hum she began assembling her own breakfast. “Well, the flattery isn’t unexpected. Nor are the complaints, sadly. I received quite a few of those of my own over the centuries. The marriage proposals are a bit surprising, though. I haven’t seen any of those in… oh, I would say five hundred years, I think.”

Luna let out an annoyed harrumph. “For the most part, none of them actually get around to proposing. They contain a wealth of implication without ever reaching an actual point.”

“Possibly they are afraid of offending you,” Celestia said as she spread some raspberry preserves on a slice of toast.

“Perhaps,” came Luna’s sour reply. After a moment, she chuckled. “I did receive one overt proposal, though. It was really quite sweet. Where is it, now?” Her horn lit, shuffling the papers before her, before she found one that was made of thick, light blue construction paper. “Here, read this.”

Celestia took the letter in her own magic, clearing her throat before she began reading. “‘Dear Princess Luna’,” she read. “‘I think you are very pretty and also very nice and I would like to marry you when I get older my mom said it was okay.’ Signed by a young gentlecolt named Burnished Copper, aged six.”

Luna was trying to smother her giggles behind her hoof. She was failing.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a marriage proposal written in crayon, before,” Celestia said. She turned the paper around. “Ah! There seems to be a drawing of you together on the back, also in crayon. He seems quite the handsome young fellow, though apparently lacking his back left leg.”

Luna giggle-snorted, which caused her sister looked up at her sharply.

“Now, Luna. You must treat this proposal with all the dignity and respect that this young gentlecolt is due,” Celestia said, her solemn voice betrayed somewhat by the quirking at the corners of her mouth. “The young lad has given you perhaps the most heartfelt proposal any princess has ever received. How are you planning to answer?”

“Ah, well. I must let him down gently, of course,” Luna said with a mock-regretful sigh. “The age difference is simply too great. I plan on keeping the letter, though. It’s just too sweet to discard, which is more than I can say for the rest of these proposals." She gestured at the remaining stack with a waffle-laden fork. "Those I plan to use as firelighters.”

Celestia chuckled. “I think that’s for the best. Any other news?”

“I thought there was to be no more business at the breakfast table.”

“You broke the rule first, dear sister,” came the smug reply. “And, I admit, I’m curious how things are going, now that I’m no longer at the forefront of the Day Court.”

Luna considered that while she chewed and swallowed a bite of her waffles. “Hmm. Well, we’ve finally gotten Maggie Henson to begin building our own Harmonics facility here in Canterlot.”

“Oh, yes. I’d heard about that.”

“We’ll require several of the Harmonics staff to stay here for a number of years, in order to teach us how to use them,” Luna said. “Though, I’m hoping to get some of the archmages out to study the process.”

Celestia quirked an eyebrow. “To what end?”

“To improve upon it, of course,” Luna replied with a self-satisfied grin. Her sister was fantastic at maintaining the status quo, but not so much with innovation. “Perhaps we can find a way to go between worlds without violently tearing holes in the very fabric of reality, which could allow us to have more gates open, and to keep them open permanently. Perhaps we can even discover a way to replicate the Harmonics process with magic, rather than technology.”

“Ah, I see.” Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “That would be extremely beneficial.”

Luna sighed and slumped. “Unfortunately, I’m getting nothing but polite refusals or vague promises of future support from the Arcanum. None of the archmagi I've reached out to seem willing to make the effort to even meet with me, and I’m unwilling to make it a Royal Summons.”

“None of them?” Celestia drew her head back. “That’s surprising. And disappointing.”

“Indeed,” came Luna’s glum reply.

A moment of silence stretched between the two sisters, punctuated by the sounds of silverware on crockery and the gentle snores of Prince Verdant. It was Celestia who broke the silence, speaking with uncharacteristic reluctance.

“Staff? Could you leave us, please?”

The attending palace staff, stationed along the walls, exchanged startled glances with one another before bowing and walking out.

“What was all that about?” Luna asked when the last of the servers had shut the door behind them.

Celestia didn’t answer at first. Instead, she was casting what Luna recognized as anti-scrying and privacy spells. Very powerful ones, at that. A band of tension tightened around her chest as Luna realized what her sister wanted to discuss.

“Have you considered the matter of my vision any further?”

“I have, sister,” Luna said, keeping her face carefully neutral. “Have you? You know what Discord is like.”

“I remember,” Celestia replied calmly.

“Indeed?” Luna could feel her heart pounding faster. “Surely, thou dost remember what he did to the townsponies of Briarville?” She grimaced at her slip back into Old Equuish and took a deep breath before continuing. “Or those damnable Paths of Wonder?”

“I remember those, yes,” Celestia said, still with that insufferable calm. “I also remember the Singing Forest, the Mirror Pool, the Unending Joy Parade and all the rest of the so-called Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine Amusements.”

Luna shuddered. “At least the Elements restored those things to normal after Discord’s first banishment.”

“We can only hope so. The way Discord twisted the landscape before the Elements restored them, there’s no way of telling for certain.” Celestia frowned. “And I know some of his creations survived.”

“Oh?” Luna raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Most of them ended up in the Badlands, though I had heard reports that there was a small nest of owlbears discovered in the Griffon Kingdom a century ago, and Twilight and her friends have recently encountered both poison joke and a cockatrice in the Everfree forest.”

“The latter created because Discord wanted a menagerie of animal statues for his garden without taking the trouble to make them himself,” Luna pointed out harshly. “This is the creature you wish to release?”

“He was different this time,” Celestia replied calmly, though she kept her eyes averted.

“Different.” It sounded like a feeble defense to Luna’s ears. “In what way?”

“He was far less cruel. More playful.” Celestia’s calm veneer finally gave way to a pained grimace. “Still unbelievably dangerous, of course. But he could have stopped Twilight and her friends at any time, in any number of ways. Instead, he played games with them.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “I remember Discord’s ‘games’, sister. Do you?”

“This was nothing like back then,” Celestia replied, having managed to recover that serene expression that Luna was finding almost infuriating at the moment. Only a slight ruffling of her ivory feathers hinted at the tension she must be feeling. “I think the Elements could have affected him, somehow.”

Luna scoffed. “So you’ve said before.”

“I believe it to be true, though. And I keep coming back to one thing that supports my argument.”

“And that is?”

“Nightmare Moon.”

Luna’s blood ran cold. How could her sister bring up what had been Luna’s darkest time in Discord’s defense? And so casually, as if it were nothing!

She drew herself up, her posture stiff and inflexible. “Would you care to explain your meaning, sister?”

“The Nightmare Moon of a thousand years ago was powerful, driven and cruel. She would stop at nothing to achieve her goals.”

“This is true,” Luna said, glaring into her sister’s serene face.

“And yet, Twilight and her friends still live. Why is that?”

“That—” Luna stopped, her mouth open. She considered the question for a long moment. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “Perhaps the long banishment weakened the Nightmare’s power?”

“Not one bit, I assure you,” Celestia said with a shamed grimace. “Without the Elements, I was overwhelmed almost immediately when she returned. And yet, like Discord, Nightmare Moon chose not to eliminate the most obvious threat to her existence. Why?”

A growl rose up in the back of Luna’s throat. “Why don’t you tell me?” she snapped.

“I believe the Elements… softened her, for a lack of a better term. Some small modicum of compassion, perhaps even part of the Element of Kindness itself, took root in her heart. She simply wasn’t as ruthless as she had been back then.”

“I couldn’t say.” Luna scowled down at the table. She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm herself. “I was still trapped in the Nightmare at the time, barely aware of what was going on.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately, we have no way of proving if my hypothesis is correct, short of waking Discord.” Celestia’s folded wings bobbed as she shrugged. “It’s difficult to judge the effects when there’s nopony else still around who has been struck by the Elements.”

Luna’s shoulders hunched as she turned her face away from her sister. “There’s me,” she said bitterly.

“No.” Celestia’s voice was firm, her expression earnest. “The Nightmare wasn’t you, Luna. Born from you, but it wasn’t you.”

An upswell of gratitude helped to stave off the inevitable shame that always rose when Luna contemplated Nightmare Moon. She pushed the emotions aside to focus on the conversation at hoof.

“There was one other,” Luna pointed out. “Your former student.”

Celestia looked confused for a moment before she flinched and looked down at the small green colt still sleeping next to her. “No. Malachite is gone. Besides, even if the Elements had an impact, it would be difficult to tell if those transferred to Verdant.”

Luna chewed the inside of her lip for a moment, then took another forkful of waffle, barely even tasting it. “Alright, Celestia. I agree to freeing Discord, as insane as that sounds.” Luna pushed her plate away. “I have conditions, though.”

“And those are?”

“The very moment he does something untoward, he’s back in the garden where he belongs,” Luna said. “And spellwork, the most powerful we can weave, to limit where he can go and what he can do. If he is able to twist Twilight and her friends again, or even just hide one of the Elements, then we will never be able to stop him.”

“Agreed,” Celestia replied with a nod. “I’ve already researched a few spells that I believe will do the trick. Though, I would greatly appreciate it if you would go over what I’ve developed so far.”

Luna sighed, rubbing a hoof at her temple while wondering what it was she’d gotten herself into. “Very well. After breakfast?”

Celestia’s warm smile answered her. “After breakfast.”

Changelings didn’t typically have the opportunity to feel many different emotions of their own. Fear was common enough, as was the occasional flare-up of anger. The most common was boredom, felt by those waiting at the hive for orders. Love was only ever felt as it came in from their prey.

Currently, Riddle was feeling an emotion that she had never felt before. Before today, she’d only ever observed the biting and barbed emotion known as jealousy from a distance. Now it was streaming out of the changeling herself, tainting the air a sickly yellow with streaks of bitter crimson.

Why Raka had decided it was necessary to bring Spectral Charm to their sessions, she couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“You don’t seem happy,” Raka said. A small wisp of concern emanated from the human, which Riddle gratefully absorbed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Riddle said evenly. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Raka frowned. “Is it because I’ve decided to start calling you by female pronouns? Calling you an ‘it’ didn’t feel right, but I could go back to that, if you prefer.”

“No!” Riddle blurted. She blinked, surprised at her own reaction. “No. I told you, I was probably going to go with female, if I ever had the chance. It’s fine. I like it.” She smiled at Raka. “I really do. Thank you.”

“I think it’s me,” Spectral Charm said. His voice was flat as he glared at her through his ridiculous glasses. “I don’t think she likes me.”

Riddle felt a moment of panic. Could the unicorn sense what she felt? She’d always been told that ponies couldn’t sense emotions, but what if that were wrong? What if there were a spell of some sort that gave them the ability?

Jealousy and Riddle’s fresh panic weren’t the only emotions in the room, though they were by far the most prevalent. There was still that tendril of affection coming from Raka, which was enough to keep Riddle fed. But there was another link, a thicker one, that went between both Spectral Charm and Raka. The two were friends. Spectral Charm cared for Raka, and Raka cared for the unicorn in return.

Riddle ground her teeth in frustration. She’s mine, you insufferable creep!

Raka was looking at her. Riddle forced her face to stillness before adding a shy smile. “I don’t know him. I’m a little uncomfortable, is all.” She ducked her head and allowed her gossamer wings to droop. “Sorry.”

It was important for Riddle to keep herself under control. Being imprisoned by the humans was bad enough, but now her one steady source of love energy was threatened. Raka had told her that she was leading the scientific team to Harmony in just five more days.

Raka seemed to accept that, smiling and giving her an affectionate rub between the ears. “Any worries about the volunteers?”

There were plenty of concerns, but Riddle hesitated to voice them. Seven humans had volunteered to try interacting with her, to see if they could provide enough love energy to sustain Riddle’s cognitive functions. Of those, only five managed even the smallest amount.

“I think there will be enough energy with the five of them,” Riddle replied carefully. “Barring unforeseen circumstances.”

Raka sighed. “I’ll ask for more volunteers,” she said. “I’d prefer to be certain, before I go.” The human hesitated. “If we can’t find enough love energy, I suppose I might have to stay behind.”

The cascade of emotions that filled the room at that statement was the reason why she hadn’t tried harder to convince Raka to stay. When Riddle had first hinted that even five volunteers wouldn’t be enough, the answering resentment from the human had briefly flooded the room. It was a reflexive emotion, and one that Raka had smothered quickly, but it had shaken the changeling badly.

It had been blindingly obvious to Riddle that the human was fixated on the expedition to Harmony to the extent that she would subconsciously begin to hate anything that stopped her from going. If she was going to lose Raka as an energy source either way, she preferred it to be temporary. Raka would come back to her eventually.

Riddle stood and put on a determined expression. “Raka, no,” she said, making her voice firm. “I know how much this means to you. I couldn’t live with myself if you gave up on your dream!”

“Oh, spare me,” Spectral Charm said, and this time Riddle couldn’t help but shoot him a glare. Unfortunately, he’d been too busy rolling his eyes to notice.

Maybe she had laid that on a little thickly. Still, Raka’s stream of affection strengthened considerably for a few seconds, which allayed Riddle’s momentary worry.

“Spectral, be nice,” Raka said, grinning down at the unicorn. “Riddle needs our help if she’s going to be allowed to stay here.”

That didn't’ sound good. “Allowed to stay? What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to convince my superiors that we need to keep you here, in this facility,” Raka said, looking down at the thin-fingered hands clasped in her lap. “They want to move you to a secure facility, and I can’t have that. There’s no guarantee that they could find anyone there who would care about you, and you would die.”

Riddle didn’t bother to hide the shudder that swept down her spine.

“You should be grateful that Raka is so tenacious when she wants something,” Spectral Charm said, staring down his muzzle at her. “It took her a couple of days, but she managed to convince me to help.” An insufferable smirk flashed across the unicorn’s face. “Fortunately for you, I arrived at a solution fairly quickly. It’s your ability to metabolize affection and process it into magic that is the key to your survival. If my theory is correct, you should be able to generate magical energy, which makes you completely unique here on Earth.”

“And, since Project Harmonics has the only magical research department on Earth with employees who can actually use magic, that means you’d pretty much have to stay here,” Raka finished with a huge grin.

“You want to feed me love so that I can generate magic?” Riddle cocked her head, blinking up at the unicorn. “I’m not sure what use that would be.”

“It’s simple.” Spectral Charm’s horn glowed as he levitated what Riddle recognized as a magic-storing torc out of a saddlebag. “If you can convert affection into magical energy and push any excess into this device, then you have a very definite value to both human and pony kind.”

Riddle scuffed a hole-filled hoof across the concrete floor of her cell. “I don’t know. Raka has been wonderful, but it’s not like I have an excess of affection.”

“A proof of concept is all we’d need,” Raka replied, picking up the torc and running her fingers over it. “If that works, we’ll push for even more volunteers so we can get you charging these on a regular basis when the gateway is down.”

It took a moment for Riddle to realize what had just been offered to her. If she could actually manage to charge a torc, she’d have value. If she had value, the humans would work to protect her and keep her alive. For the first time since her capture, a future that didn’t involve an early and unpleasant death stretched out before her.

Happiness and optimism. Two more rarely-felt emotions that were now radiating out of the changeling. Perhaps some more sharing was in order, so as to keep the goodwill flowing.

“Being able to convert love energy into magical energy is vital to our ability to disguise ourselves, you know,” Riddle said, attempting to be nonchalant.

As expected, Raka glanced up from her examination of the torc, her eyes sparkling at the tidbit of new information. “How so?”

“Compared to ponies, common changelings are extremely weak,” Riddle replied. “Outside of illusion magic, my magic is pathetic compared to most unicorns. Basic, weak levitation barely better than a foal's. I can fly, but nowhere near as well as a pegasus, and I can’t normally affect the weather. And an earth pony’s strength? Forget it.” She shrugged and offered up a self-effacing grin. “But we can use the love energy we harvest to increase our natural abilities, make ourselves more appealing. Say, if a pegasus wants a mate who can fly as well as they do, or a unicorn wants someone with a strong magical ability. On our own, we can’t do it. But we can use the energy of their own affection to bridge the gap.”

Spectral Charm seemed mildly disturbed by the idea, judging by the sour purple tang of disgust emanating from him. Raka, on the other hoof, was intrigued. Riddle could tell both by the emotions flooding the room as well as the way she leaned forward, a hungry look on her face.

“So, you can basically upgrade yourself to better suit your mates?” Raka asked.

“Temporarily, yes.” Riddle nodded. “There are limits, depending on class. Common soldier, the various levels of officer, generals, princesses and the queen, we each have our upper limits. But, yes, generally speaking.” She grinned. “Changelings become whatever those who feed us need us to be. We don’t even have to think about it, really. It’s all automatic. If you love me enough, I could almost pass for a Wonderbolt.”

Raka whistled and leaned back. Once again, Riddle was amazed by how easy it was to trigger a release of affection from the human. All she had to do was engage her scientific interest.

“Well, maybe we should stop wasting time and see if you can pass for a battery,” Spectral Charm said, his voice flat.

Riddle bared her fangs at him, hoping it would be taken as a grin. Seriously, his jugular was right there. “Well, then,” she said through her fake smile. “Let’s get started on that proof of concept, shall we?”

The sound of an explosion startled Twilight out of the light doze that the rocking of the train had lulled her into. She glared at Spike, who was sitting next to her and playing some silly little game on his tablet. From what she could see, it involved launching fruit at passing birds for some reason, which would then explode when hit. That wasn’t the disturbing part. The disturbing part was how the little dragon would break out into the occasional giggle when it happened.

“Spike, I think that’s enough of that game, don’t you?” Twilight recognized the protruding lower lip and wide eyes of an incoming pout, and decided to head it off before it got any traction. “Maybe you could watch a movie, instead?”

Spike brightened at the suggestion. “I suppose I could, yeah.”

“Just make sure it isn’t so loud it disturbs the other passengers,” Twilight said.

Spike, already poking at the screen with his stylus, grunted in reply, and Twilight went back to looking out the window.

Her trip to Canterlot had lasted much longer than she’d expected. Almost two full weeks, half of that time spent being frustrated in her attempts to learn Dream Magic. After her eventual success, there had been a few more lessons before Luna had declared that her training had progressed far enough for her to continue it from Ponyville. After all, her physical presence wasn’t required if they’d be meeting every night in the Dreamrealms.

By the time the princess had made that decision, Twilight was more than happy to go. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Trixie had been avoiding her ever since her first successful trip to the Threshold. Whenever they did talk, the former showmare had been stiff and oddly formal, which put Twilight on edge.

Twilight had no idea what she’d done to upset the other mare, but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with her directly. Not outside of the Dreamrealms, at least.

The train pulled up to the Ponyville station some time before noon. Spike put his tablet away as Twilight retrieved their minimal luggage, and together they made their way back to the Golden Oaks library.

The swell of emotion at the sight of the tree library sometimes still felt odd to Twilight. Home. A couple of years ago, she never would have been able to credit it. Living in a small agrarian town with next to no research facilities? Not to mention moving so far away from the Princess. A younger version of herself would have found the very thought absurd. Even the fact that her residence was a library wouldn’t have been enough to convince past-Twilight that she could live here.

Today, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, and the books were only a small part of that.

Twilight opened the front door to the library, smiling like she always did when she caught the smell of the books, all properly in their shelves… More or less. A quick glance told Twilight that the temporary librarian, Mrs. Stacks, had been reshelving things again while Twilight was away. She wouldn’t have minded if it weren’t for the fact that the older mare arranged every book alphabetically, with no regard to subject and in complete defiance of the Duet Decimal System.

Not that she minded, of course. There were few things more relaxing and fun than Reshelving Day. And the silent battle of wills between the new and old librarians was actually something she looked forward to. She suspected that Mrs. Stacks did, as well.

Spike slid off of her back and immediately charged the stairs with a quick, “See ya!” His little legs pounded up the steps, the noise bringing Mrs. Stacks out of a side room. The older mare stopped, her eyes narrowing.

“So,” Mrs. Stacks said. “This is what counts as ‘a few days’?”

Twilight wilted under the glare and offered up a sheepish smile. “Sorry?” she offered. “It took longer than I expected to get my hoof in the door with dream magic.”

That brought the elderly mare up short. “Dream magic?” She frowned. “Oh, yes. I remember there was an announcement for that. So, you went and joined Princess Luna’s Dream Guard, then?”

“Oh, no,” Twilight said as she floated her saddlebags off of her back, placing them nearby with the rest of her luggage. “I just wanted to learn! Oh, and this is for you,” she added, opening up a suitcase and removing a small, wrapped box from inside. “As a ‘thank you’ for maintaining the library while I was gone.”

The gift had its hoped-for disarming effect. Mrs. Stacks brought a hoof up to her chest as her eyes widened. “Oh, you didn’t need to do that!”

“I wanted to,” Twilight assured her. “It’s really the least I could do after leaving you here for two weeks.”

“Oh, well… Thank you, dear,” Mrs Stacks replied with a smile. She took the box in her own magical field and opened it with a quick efficiency that impressed Twilight. She removed the contents and gasped. “Oh, it’s lovely!”

Twilight relaxed a little, glad that her intuition had paid off. The few times she’d been allowed in Mrs. Stack’s house, she’d noticed that the other mare had collected quite a few different crystal animals. The gift, a pair of crystal robins in flight, had looked like it would fit right in with her collection.

Mrs. Stacks placed the robins gently back into their padded box. “Well,” she said as she floated the box over to her own saddlebags, which were hanging on a peg by the door. “I suppose that we should go over the business of the last two weeks?”

With a smile, Twilight nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Twilight looked around at the first floor of the library with a pleased smile. For all her adherence to alphabetization as a method of sorting books, Mrs. Stacks never did less than an exemplary job keeping the library tidy. The woodwork practically glowed, and not a cobweb was in sight, which Twilight wasn’t always able to claim when she was in charge.

Spike was where she had expected him to be, lounging in his little basket at the foot of her bed while watching a movie on his tablet. There was the sound of an explosion, followed by Spike’s juvenile giggling. Twilight scowled, wondering if she should take the thing away. Then she remembered her own tablet, which was sitting on her nightstand.

With a smile, Twilight magically retrieved a stylus and tapped the screen. Her smile faded as she looked at the display. A large, colorful box, rounded at the corners, was dominating the screen. Erin’s name was scrawled across the top of the box, in what would be the header area if this had been a letter. Inside the box were smaller boxes, each with a line or more of text in it, along with a date. After a moment of contemplation, Twilight realized that this must be the “texting” that her friend had described to her a few weeks ago.

Hi Twilight! the first text box read. Guess what? Pony tail has Wi-Fi, now! This was followed by the Earth date and time of Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:12 pm

There was a second box under the first that read: Sorry, that should be Pony Villa. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:12 pm. A third box read: Ponyville, dang it! Text-to-speech is great, but it has its limitations. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:14 pm

“So, each message gets its own little box within a bigger box?” Twilight mused aloud. “How tidy!”

“What?” Spike asked from his basket, raising his voice so he could be heard over the noise of the movie he was watching.

“Oh, nothing. I just received a few messages from Erin.”

Spike grunted and turned back to his movie. Twilight lay down on her bed and scrolled through the rest of the messages.

Hah, I keep trying to go on the internet. Old habits… Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:32 pm
Pinkie says hi. No pony else seems to have noticed we’re connected. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:34 pm
Oh yeah. Kinda forgot you left your tablet in the library. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:37 pm
And that you wouldn’t be able to see this anyway, since the network doesn’t reach Canterlot. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:37 pm
Well, when you get back, we can communicate with this whenever we want! Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:38 p.m.
Not when we’re sleeping, obviously. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:38 pm
But whenever else. Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:39 pm
We should have lunch when you get back! Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:42 pm
Wherever you want… Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:42 pm
Even hay burgers! I know you love those Fri, 03/25/2039, 5:45 pm
This is so cool! Jerry just told me I have control over the drones left behind from Harmonics! Fri, 03/25/2039, 6:00 pm
You know, those black flying things? Fri, 03/25/2039, 6:01 pm
I guess they’re using them for wireless repeaters, so the network can reach Fluttershy’s and Applejack’s houses. Fri, 03/25/2039, 6:05 pm
I have an app to control them! It’s really cool. Fri, 03/25/2039, 6:06 pm
I’ll show you when we get together. Fri, 03/25/2039, 6:08 pm
Hey, are you back yet? Sat, 03/26/2039, 8:07 am
How about now? Sat, 03/26/2039, 9:30 am
When are you coming hooooome? I want to show you this stuff! Sat, 03/26/2039, 11:15 am
Sorry if I’m pestering you. I’ve missed texting so much, I can’t even tell you! *does a happy texting dance* Sat, 03/26/2039, 11:30 am
Ugh. Looking at all this stuff I sent you, I look like some lunatic stalker or something. Sat, 03/26/2039, 11:33 am
Maybe I should go over and erase this off of your tablet before you get home... Sat, 03/26/2039, 11:44 am

Twilight glanced at the time on her tablet. It currently read 11:50, which meant that Erin had sent her last message just short while ago. After some experimentation, Twilight was able to figure out where to tap in order for a small keyboard to pop up on the screen, allowing her to begin typing out her own reply.

She’d barely begun when she heard the library’s front door open, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of hooves quickly coming up the stairs. Twilight smiled just as her bedroom door opened, revealing a slightly frazzled looking Erin, whose look of panic faded to one of dismay.

“Hi, Erin,” Twilight said sweetly. “Something I can help you with?”

“Hey, Erin,” Spike said from his basket.

Erin’s eyes flicked towards the tablet, then back up to Twilight. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then deflated with a sigh. “Um. Welcome back?”

“It’s good to be back,” Twilight said with a grin. “I’m surprised you knew I was here.”

“Oh, well—”

“Though I shouldn’t have been,” Twilight continued. “I suppose if anypony would know where I was, it would be my lunatic stalker.”

Erin deflated a little more while blushing. A sheepish smile crept across her face. “You saw that, huh?”

Twilight laughed, rolling out of her bed and leaving the tablet behind. She went over and gave Erin a hug, which was enthusiastically returned.

“It’s really good to see you,” Twilight said. She released the hug and stood back. “And, I hate to ask, but are you busy right now?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could go round up the others for me. Celestia has something she wants us to do.”

Erin took a step back, her eyes widening. “Is there a problem?”

“Not yet, no.” Twilight sighed. “Something big is coming up, though.”

“What is it?”

Twilight shook her head. “It’s better if I tell everypony all at once. It’s not an emergency, but it’s fairly urgent. Would you mind?”

“Not at all,” Erin said, then smiled. “It’s not like I have a job right now, or anything.”

After Erin left, Twilight sat down on her floor and stared at nothing for a few minutes. Of all the things Princess Celestia had asked her to do, attempting to “reform” the spirit of chaos would undoubtedly be the most difficult. For the first time in a long time, she had no idea how to proceed. She wasn’t even sure if she should bother making a plan. Discord’s mere presence defied planning, which was one of the more aggravating things about him.

With a sigh, Twilight glanced up at the clock on her bedroom wall. Judging by prior experience, it would take at least an hour for everypony to gather at the library. Plenty of time to begin reshelving the library, which would at least keep her mind occupied.

The thought cheered her up a little as she made her way downstairs. Within minutes, she was happily reorganizing shelf after shelf, troubles momentarily forgotten.

The day had finally come. A fleet of semi-trucks were staged in the parking lot of the Harmonics compound, engines idling while waiting for the gateway to open. Of the trailers attached to the rigs, some were self-contained labs, others were dormitories, and a few were packed with the supplies they would need for the next few weeks. A mobile science base, all ready to go once the gateway opened.

This same procedure had been pioneered for bulk shipments of goods to Zanibra, in order to assist in building humanity’s first non-Terrestrial city. Raka figured that it would work just as well to get the science team and all their equipment onto the world of Harmony.

A pair of large emitters were bolted to one end of the parking lot. The six member security team would be the first to go through in their two rugged diesel-powered pickup trucks to make sure the landing zone was secure, and then the semi-trucks would go through. Finally, the research team of both human and Equestrian scientists would walk through, once everything was clear.

Raka was standing next to Maggie Henson, just outside of a large tent made of clear plastic. The Harmonics team was inside the tent, monitoring readings and preparing to open the gateway. According to the estimates, the opportunity to open the gateway was coming up very soon.

A large LCD clock was posted on top of the temporary framework that the large-size emitters were tied into. The number was currently counting down from ten minutes. Nerves were wound tight amongst the science crew, and Raka was struggling to stay focused herself. There was something she needed to make absolutely certain of before she left.

“So, you’re sure Riddle will be fine?” she asked.

“She said she would be,” Maggie replied. “We got another two volunteers, so we're up to seven now. She said that was finally getting enough to keep her going, with enough left over to charge some torcs.”

“It figures that it would take seven people to replace little old me, hm?” Raka shot a grin at her old friend. “Sounds about right.” The grin faded as she turned serious. “Promise me you’ll take care of her, okay?”

Maggie groaned and rolled her eyes. “I promise. Just like I did three times yesterday, four times between breakfast and lunch, and then twice within the last hour. I won’t let her starve, I promise.”

“It’s not just starvation, though. We’re basically talking about giving her a lobotomy if she doesn’t get enough affection.” Raka twisted her fingers together, biting her lip as she looked at minutes counting down on the digital clock above where the gateway would soon appear. “Maybe I should stay behind…”

“No!” Maggie took her by both shoulders and turned her until they were face-to-face. “Just, no. If Riddle hadn’t said she’d be fine, I would agree, but she said she would be.” She considered for a moment. “Would it help if I asked for more volunteers, just to be sure?”

“Sure, if you can find anyone else willing to go through daily brain scans for a little extra pay,” Raka replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m amazed you got as many as you did, honestly.”

“I’ll put the word out,” Maggie said. “I wish I could try it out myself.”

Raka knew Maggie would have at least tried, but she, along with several other key members of Project Harmonics, were forbidden from going anywhere near Riddle. The reasoning was that it was still unknown if the changeling was somehow able to alter their minds in a way that even the best tests weren’t able to catch.

“It would be easier if they'd let her disguise herself as something cuddlier,” Raka muttered. She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “Look, be careful around her, okay? I don’t think she’s been using magic on me, but she’s still a manipulative little thing.”

“I saw some of the video footage,” Maggie said wryly. “It didn’t look like you’d noticed.”

“Of course I noticed! I’m not dim!” Raka stuck out her tongue, causing Maggie to chuckle. “I don’t even know if she’s even aware that she’s doing it half the time. It’s a survival skill for them, after all.”

She looked up at the clock. There were less than five minutes remaining before the gateway would open. The volunteers were ready, fear and tension thick in the air while every eye was fixed on the display.

“Almost time,” Raka said softly.

Maggie put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yup!” Raka’s grin seemed to have a life of its own. “I can’t wait! This is history in the making, and I’m going to be out in front of it!”

“Just… keep yourself safe.” Maggie was playing with the pens in her lab coat's breast pocket, a sure sign of her anxiety to anyone who knew her. “There’s three weeks before we can open another portal. You’ll be completely cut off once the gate closes.”

“I know,” Raka replied. She’d never have admitted it, even to Maggie, but that thought had kept her up most of the last three nights. “We’ll be safe, though. I promise. No civilization found, no large predators yet… we’ll be fine. And we’ve got the Bunker,” she said with a gesture towards the vehicle in question.

The vehicle in question was an ex-military mobile command vehicle. Nicknamed the Bunker by the security team, it was armored, bulky, ugly, and freshly painted a dark green. It was twice as wide and fifty percent longer than the trailers and, in a pinch, could hold the entire team, human and Equestrian alike. Provided they didn’t care much about comfort, that is. It had air filtration, oxygen candles, water filtration, emergency rations, a medical station and the bulk of the armory that the security team would be bringing along. Fairly conservative estimates showed that, with strict rationing of supplies, the team could survive for up to three weeks inside the Bunker.

The Equestrian research team were at the far end of the lot, clustered together while talking quietly. With the way their ears flicked around while they kept an eye on the vehicles and the human technicians, the pony explorers were obviously on edge. Raka found herself vaguely wondering if it were some sort of herding instinct that brought them so close together, or if it was just a fear of the unknown. After a moment of consideration, she realized that there was no appreciable difference between the two in this situation and resolved to study the question further when she had a chance to speak with some of the pony scientists.

Engines revved and chatter cut off as the countdown passed the one minute mark. With her heart hammering and her mouth suddenly dry, she wished that she’d thought to grab a bottle of water earlier.

“It looks like this is it,” Maggie said softly next to her. “I’d better go and make sure this all runs smoothly.”

“Yeah…”

“Take care, Raka.” Maggie hugged her so fiercely that Raka briefly feared a rib would crack.

“You too, Mags. I’ll see you when I get back.”

Maggie’s smile trembled a little before she turned to walk inside the plastic command tent.

The last few seconds counted down. When the clock hit ten seconds, a klaxon sounded. Engines revved, and several of the trucks in the parking lot jerked as the drivers put them into gear. The clock hit zero, the klaxon ended, and the air shimmered between the bulky emitters.

A high-pitched tone started, setting Raka’s teeth on edge. The tone softened, and the shimmering air suddenly snapped into focus, revealing a pleasant-looking landscape on the other side. The landing zone looked like it was a fairly flat space on top of a hill, with only some strangely-textured alien plants clinging the ground.

One of the security team barked an order, and the two security vehicles darted through. After a few minutes, the all-clear was given, and the semi-trucks began rumbling through, starting with the Bunker. Then it was the research team’s turn.

Raka hefted her heavy duffle bag up to her shoulder and glanced over at Maggie, who was looking back with concern etched deeply into her face. Raka offered her a saucy grin and a farewell wave before joining the rest of the research team. She walked quickly, making her way to the front of the pack. She wouldn’t be the first human on Harmony, the security team had that honor, but she was damned if she wouldn’t be the first scientist to walk on the alien world!

Thus it was that, with a spring in her step and a gleam in her eye, Doctor Raka Nayar stepped confidently through the gateway onto the world they called Harmony.

Chapter 19: Discord and Harmony

The warm air of Harmony washed over Raka’s skin in a humid wave as she stepped through the gateway. The smell of the new world came to her next, and she breathed deep the sharp, rich scent that brought to mind fields of mint and clover after a spring rain.

The gateway led to the top of a large but gentle hill, which was covered by a dense mat of dark green, small-leaved plants. Some of the ponies sniffed at the plant life uncertainly before continuing on, following the tracks left across the ground by the heavy trucks.

The sky was a rich cobalt blue, perfectly clear above them but with a dense field of white clouds off to the east, close to a nearby mountain range. Unfortunately, Raka couldn’t get a very good look at the surroundings, not with the security team busy arranging the trucks in a large circle around the crown of the hill.

Instead of looking around, Raka knelt down to get a closer look at the plants underfoot. Rather than individual plants, she realized that she was looking at a mass of interwoven tendrils, criss-crossing across the earth in a broad net and occasionally putting down roots. Tiny round leaves sprouted along the length of the plants, thick and shiny. Pulling on a pair of disposable gloves, she plucked one of the leaves to get a closer look and was immediately hit by a stronger blast of that same minty scent from before. Was the smell some sort of defense mechanism? A toxin to discourage foragers, perhaps? Or was it just the way this particular plant happened to smell when it was damaged?

She found it thrilling to think that she might be the first one to ever find out the answers to those questions.

Raka straightened up, placing the leaf into a sample bag as she looked around what would be the research team’s new base of operations. Human and pony staff milled about uncertainly, most of them watching the trucks as the security team waved them into position.

Each reinforced trailer would form part of a rough circle which, when complete, would create an enclosed and protected space. As each truck came to rest, two members of the security team on the outside of the circle lowered specially constructed steel skirts to the ground, designed to help keep out unwanted local fauna. With the trucks all parked nose-to-tail with one another, this formed a nearly unbroken ring of steel around the research site, with the Bunker serving as a wheeled gateway for whenever a team needed to explore outside.

Watching as the skirt of steel closed around her, a terrible sense of restlessness started growing in Raka’s chest, dancing down her legs while her hands clenched tightly. A broad smile sprouted on her face as she looked around, taking it all in. After so many weeks of anticipation, actually being on the surface of Harmony felt almost unreal. She spun in a slow circle to take it all in, giddy with the realization that she was actually here, on an alien world. Back on Earth, there were those who shrugged off the discovery of Harmony, believing that the discovery of Equestria muted the value of finding a second habitable world. Raka couldn’t have disagreed more. Her heart jittered in her chest and she felt lightheaded and a little silly, and it was all she could do to keep from dancing on the uneven footing of the mat of greenery beneath her.

Harmony’s day was just beginning, with its sun barely above the eastern mountain range. Though the air was warm and humid, the cool breeze from the east brought considerable relief. Raka smiled, satisfied in knowing that she couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to the mission.

“This place feels wrong,” Spectral Charm said as he walked up next to her.

She glanced down, arching an eyebrow down at the unicorn. He was scowling thunderously as he looked around, his flicking ears and twitching tail a clear sign of his anxiety.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The magic of this place. It’s like a raging torrent all around me, but…” He trailed off and shook his head. A dim glow of magic lit up on his horn. “I’m putting all of my effort into casting a simple light spell. With this much magic around, I should be lit up like a lighthouse.”

Raka frowned, glancing at the soft glow of his horn. “What do you think the problem is?”

“I can’t say for certain. It’s almost as if most of the magic is on the other side of a glass wall. I can sense it, but all I can reach is this pathetically small amount.” He frowned pensively and chewed on his lip. “I’ve never come across anything like this before.”

“Well, the pegasi seem to be doing alright,” Raka noted, pointing at one of the winged ponies, who had flown up to the top of one of the parked trailers and in order to look out across Harmony.

“Hmm…” Spectral rubbed a hoof across his chin, studying the distant stallion. “That may be an avenue for investigation. For pegasi and earth ponies, gathering magical energy tends to be much more instinctual than it is with unicorns. If I want to cast a spell, I have to consciously collect the energy for it.”

“Do you think the magic here is dangerous?”

Spectral Charm considered this while Raka waited. “I may as well run some tests.” His horn pulsed for a while, then flickered rapidly while he stood stock still with a contemplative expression on his face. Finally, his horn dimmed as he let out a grunt. “I’ve just cast some simple cantrips; detection and protection charms and the like. It seems safe enough, just far weaker than it should be.”

“Well, I trust you,” Raka said, patting the stallion on the shoulder. “If you say it’s safe, then I’m not going to argue. But what do you think the cause is?”

“No idea,” Spectral said with a grin as his eyes lit up. “But I intend to find out!”

Raka chuckled. “Ah, yes. The sheer joy of scientific discovery. Let me know if you figure out what’s going on.”

“Will do,” he replied. Then he smirked and jerked his head towards his fellow unicorns from the Equestrian expedition, many of whom were wearing vexed expressions while scowling cross-eyed up at their horns. “I’d better go and get them organized. We’re going to need to solve this dilemma if we want to conduct any real magical research here.”

Spectral trotted away, leaving Raka to her own devices. Deciding she had an intense need to get a better look at their surroundings, she clambered up on top of one of the parked trailers via the external ladder. Many of the team had the same idea, and soon the few trucks that were parked were crowded with humans, earth ponies and unicorns peering off into the distance and exclaiming over everything they saw. The few pegasi were flying in slow circuits, apparently unbothered by the magical discrepancy that Spectral had pointed out.

Raka pulled her binoculars out of her bag and started taking in the sights. The expedition had landed on top of a hill, with grass-covered plains stretching to the west like a verdant ocean, dotted with occasional islands of shrubs or wildflowers. The terrain became hilly and rough to the east, ending in the mountain range that Raka had seen earlier. Here and there the hills were crowned with trees—or, at least, tree-like objects—that eventually resolved into a dense forest. To the south, a thin ribbon of river winked and twinkled its way from east to west, winding between smaller hills and undulating across the plains towards a grey smudge on the horizon that could possibly be a body of water.

To the north there was an enormous grey plateau, bereft of greenery and nearly symmetrical. Not quite a mountain, it dwarfed the little foothills that surrounded it. Raka frowned at the sight of it. She was no geologist, but something looked very off with that hill.

She sighed and lowered the binoculars. With any luck, she’d be able to convince the geological team to go and check it out sometime soon. Though, if she had to guess, it was at least fifty miles away through alien, quite possibly hostile, terrain.

The strange plateau could wait, she decided. For now, she had a job to do. After putting her binoculars back in their case, she shimmied back down the ladder and joined the other scientists in setting up the research base.

The hallways of the Citadel lit up ahead of him as the Caretaker stalked down them. His heavy staff struck the floor sharply with every other step, the loud cracks echoing down the hall and back to him with the fury of a thunderstorm.

He arrived at the Chamber of the Goddess and strode down the steps before slotting his staff into the hole at the center of the floor. At once, the milky-white chamber began glowing a pulsing red as the Eye of the Goddess formed on the wall in front of him.

Forsaking custom, he didn’t bow as the Eye focused on him. Instead, he stood with all four of his arms folded across his chest as he took deep, ragged breaths.

“Do you need something from me, my former Ardent?” the Goddess asked, sounding far too pleased with herself.

“Our world is invaded,” the Caretaker said, his voice cold and the crest along his spine rising and falling in time with his pulse. “Intruders walk our soil, defile our air. How could you allow it?”

“I thought you might like some company after all this time alone.”

The Caretaker was about to snap out a reply when he realized that the hint of amusement in the Goddess’ voice was no doubt carefully designed to enrage him. A lifetime of training came back to him and, with an effort, he calmed himself.

“I can’t help but notice that the information I gathered on these invaders is… not fully accurate.” He tilted his head, staring up at the Eye that stared down at him. “I take it you were involved?”

“Oh, yes. Your Infiltrator told you exactly what I wished it to.” The humor drained away, and the Goddess’ next words were filled with an icy fury of their own. “You butchered that poor soul for nothing.”

“On the contrary, I learned something quite valuable by observing what you tried to hide from me,” he replied. “I have learned that the invaders consist of multiple species and can use magic, and that this was something that you did not wish me to know.” With a bob of his head, he regarded the Eye of the Goddess calmly. “Was this your plan? To have your allies meddle with the Barrier and release you and your magic back onto our world? Has this world not suffered enough?”

The Goddess’ answering howl of rage shook the entire chamber. The Caretaker could feel the vibration rattling his bones, nearly driving him to his knees. “What do you know of suffering? How long have I waited, denied my world, my home? How long have my children been cut off from their mother? How long have the Dreamers dreamed?”

Far from upsetting him, the rage of the Goddess had a calming effect as it washed over the anger in his own heart, quenching it completely. His voice was steady as he replied. “You know why it was necessary.”

“I know your rationale. I agreed with your goal of bringing peace, if you’ll recall. I never agreed to this misuse of my power.”

The Caretaker’s agitation showed in the tightening of his fingers on his staff and the minute raising of his crest. “I… made a mistake,” he admitted. “And, though it was not my intention to enforce order in this way, I find myself contented with the result.”

“Contented.” the Goddess repeated. “How can this be enough for you? The purpose of life is to grow, to change—”

“To destroy, to fight, to end,” the Caretaker replied. “Our people may be Dreaming, but our world thrives like never before.”

“Thrives? This order you’ve imposed is more akin to stagnation. What of significance has changed in the last several thousand millennia?”

“Change is disorder. It is never gentle, and it always leads to destruction. I learned that lesson all too well, my Goddess.” The Caretaker sighed and shook his head. “There is no point in arguing this yet again. You shall never see this as I do. And now you’ve forced me to do what I wished to never do, in order to repel these invaders. I hope you are well satisfied, my Goddess, as I must now wake a number of the Dreamers in order to purify my world. For a short while, at least, the Faith Guardians will once again walk in Paradise.”

“Wait—”

He pulled his staff from the hole in the chamber floor, cutting the Goddess off. The glow of the Eye faded as it returned to being a blank wall.

The Caretaker spent most of the day watching the invaders through the holographic array in his control chambers. Their militaristic tendencies were already on clear display as they created a walled fortress out of steel and soulless mechanical abominations. The life of his world was crushed, the earth violated, the silence broken and the air fouled.

A hand tightened on his staff and his eyes narrowed. It would not stand.

The Faith Guardians, bio-magical constructs formed by the deepest of arcane secrets and fueled by magic, had kept the Priesthood of the Goddess safe for centuries. Only a scant few of them still remained, stored in the tombs below the Citadel, but they would be more than sufficient to protect their world once again.

Unfortunately, with nothing to pilot them, the Faith Guardians were inert, no more than useless statuary. In the past, those of the Priesthood nearing death could volunteer to become Inspiri, having their minds and souls bonded to the Guardians in order to continue serving after the passing of their mortal bodies.

There were no priests left, now. Only the Caretaker remained.

The Caretaker’s fingers danced along the holographic controls and the view changed, showing the Dreamers in their swarming multitudes. A growing number of them stopped to regard the invaders’ camp, crowding and swirling around the area so thickly that, had they a physical presence, they would have blocked out the sun and smothered the invaders where they stood.

He hooked a finger into the display and pulled a wriggling Dreamer out of it, taking it over to the soul-font.

At one time, he had considered the act of soul-sculpting on the unwilling to be the highest of crimes. That had been before he’d seen his fellow priests and priestesses butchered and burned, their temples reduced to ashes, their world on the brink of destruction. That was before he, in an act of desperation to stop the madness, had channeled the unimaginable power he’d stolen from the Goddess through the Citadel’s soul-font, causing a wave that rippled out from the Citadel to eventually blanket the world, creating twenty billion Dreamers along with twenty billion of his people’s corpses rotting in the streets.

And that was before he, in the depths of frantic desperation, used soul-sculpting on his own mind to cut away the grief that had threatened to drive him to madness.

But the end result had been a good one. Discarding the mantle of Ardent and taking the name Caretaker, he had cut away his doubt and reinforced his purpose, remolding himself into the ideal guardian of his world, his Paradise.

One last war, he thought as he worked on the struggling mind in his grasp. One last battle, and then he’d find a way to deal with the Goddess for good. Once the invaders were gone, there would be all the time in the world to establish a perfect, eternal order.

Erin waited with her friends in a small field roughly three miles away from Ponyville. The sky was bright and clear, and a nice breeze rustled her mane, cooling her coat as it brought the scent of wildflowers to her nose.

It would have been a perfect day if it hadn’t been for the statue of Discord that was sharing the field with them. He was a patchwork creature, just like Erin recalled from her brief visit to the Canterlot gardens all those months ago. Mismatched wings, horns and limbs, and a bearded face that looked a little like a cross between a goat and a pony. A look of sheer terror was still frozen into the spirit of chaos’ face, but Erin no longer felt any sympathy for him; by now, she had heard too many stories from her friends to feel sorry for him.

A shudder ran down her spine at the sight of him, and a small corner of Erin’s mind wondered why she was even there. She had no magic, no Element of Harmony, and no way to help if things went badly. But any thought of leaving brought back a memory surfaced of her watching her six pony friends going through a portal to face off against Black Tide while she was forced to stay behind.

Never again, Erin promised herself as she looked towards the others. Staying safe while her friends faced danger just didn’t sit right with her. She was determined to stick around, even if the only thing she could do was be a witness. Besides, even though she hated to admit it, a small part of her was intensely curious about what the spirit of chaos would be like.

Twilight was currently holding a scroll before her in her magic, scowling down at it while muttering intently to herself. According to the unicorn, the scroll contained a list of all the measures, both magical and otherwise, that the Princesses had enacted to help keep Discord in check. Eventually, she gave a sharp nod and rolled up the scroll before sliding it back into her saddlebags.

“Are we all set?” Twilight asked, sharp and stern.

“As we’ll ever be,” Rainbow Dash replied, her voice grim. Her hooves were planted firmly in the grass as she glared a challenge at the frozen form of Discord. “Want me to go let Mayor Mare know we’re about to get started?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Twilight replied.

“Right.” Rainbow leapt into the air. “Don’t start without me!” she called as she shot off towards town.

Erin looked around at the remaining five ponies and the single dragon who waited behind. Even though she’d never personally encountered a non-petrified Discord, it was hard not to feel tense with the way the others were acting.

Applejack was sitting and looking towards Sweet Apple Acres, her back stiff and her jaw clenched. When spoken to, she would smile and reply normally enough, but eventually her gaze would drift back towards her home, whatever she was saying trailing off into silence.

Fluttershy was lying in the grass with her legs folded underneath her. She had her eyes closed and her breathing was deep and steady, and only the flicking of her ears indicated that she hadn’t dozed off. Rarity was lying next to Fluttershy without so much as a single complaint about the grass stains that would inevitably mar her white coat. She wasn’t saying anything, simply pressing up against Fluttershy’s side, letting her know that she was there with her and would protect her even from Discord himself.

Spike and Pinkie were playing yet another game of checkers, and once again Spike was winning. Judging by the way Pinkie kept losing focus and staring off at nothing, it was likely that her head wasn’t in the game.

Twilight seemed to be dealing with the stress in her own way, by becoming crisply and rigidly efficient. Every movement was economical, every sentence was short and clipped, and her face wore no expression other than momentary scowls of concentration.

“How are you doing?” Erin asked her as she moved up beside her.

“I’m fine,” Twilight replied, her face set and her ears jutting forward as she watched the sky for Rainbow’s return.

Erin hesitated, considering different options for what she could say and discarding them all one after the other. Saying that everything would be okay was trite and cliché, and also had a high probability of being wrong. Saying that she believed in her might just make Twilight feel even more pressured. Discussing something minor like the weather would most likely be a distraction, and Twilight didn’t look like she was in the mood to be distracted at the moment.

Her eyes flicked over to Rarity, who seemed to be doing considerable good for Fluttershy just by being by her side. Erin moved closer to Twilight, not quite touching her, and sat down to study the sky with her.

They sat like that for a almost a minute before Twilight spoke, her voice pitched low and tight. “What if everything goes horribly wrong? What if I can’t keep him under control and he ends up destroying everything?”

Erin chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds before answering. “Well, it’s not down to just you. Your friends are with you, remember?”

Twilight frowned as she considered that. After a few seconds, she gave a sharp nod, losing some of the rigidity of her posture as she answered. “Yeah. You’re right. We beat him the first time, and that was with no preparation. This time we’re ready for him, and we have the Elements with us from the start.”

“I just wish there was something I could do to help,” Erin replied, her head drooping.

“I think you’re helping plenty just by being here.” Twilight smiled and leaned over to bump her shoulder into Erin’s. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Erin replied with an answering smile of her own.

Over the last few months, her friends had occasionally told her some of the stories of Discord’s first return. What they hadn’t said had shown in pinched faces and haunted eyes. From what Erin could piece together, the fight against Discord had been a horrible, mind-warping contest of wills and magic, and her friends had come out the other side with their friendship scarred but stronger than ever.

It was something that Erin had no part of, a bond she didn’t share. And, as she had listened to Twilight relating Celestia’s plan and saw her friends’ reactions, she had felt more like an outsider than she had during her first days in Ponyville.

Twilight’s smile and slightly relaxed posture made her glad she’d come. Whatever Discord was going to do, Erin resolved that she was going to do her best to support her friends and see them through it, magic or no.

“So, how’s it going with your magic studies?” Twilight asked out of the blue, as if reading her mind. “I was away in Canterlot so long, and we haven’t had much of a chance to get caught up. Any progress?”

Erin grimaced. As far as a change of subjects went, this particular topic left a little to be desired.

“Not so much, no,” Erin replied sourly. “I can’t even get my horn to spark. I get a headache from just trying. Rainbow Dash has been taking me flying every few days in an assist harness, and I’m getting better at atmospheric alteration and cloud-walking, but I still can’t get my wings to work when I want them to.”

“Hmm.” Twilight’s worried look was quickly masked by a smile. “Well, I’m sure you’ll get it eventually. What about earth pony magic?”

Erin shrugged. “I can’t really say. I’ve been getting stronger and faster, but I’m not sure if that’s because of all the exercise I’m getting working at Sweet Apple Acres or because of earth pony magic.”

“Well, I’m more than happy to work with you on your magic,” Twilight said. She grimaced and added, “Well, once things settle down, that is.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Twilight.” Erin replied, shifting on her hooves. She’d tried everything exactly as the book said she should. Between the frustration and the headaches she got when trying to use magic, it almost didn’t seem worth trying. Even Rarity’s little sister could make her horn glow somewhat reliably, and Erin couldn’t even make hers spark.

Twilight’s ears perked up. “Oh, I have an idea!” She shot a grin over at Erin. “Do you remember my old professor? Moonlight Glimmer?”

Erin thought for a moment. “Uh, I think so? White unicorn, eclipsed moon for a cutie mark?”

“Yes! She’s an expert in magical biology. If you want, I can write to her and ask if she can spare the time to work with you.”

“Oh, uh…” She fidgeted with her forehooves for a moment. “I don’t want to inconvenience anypony.”

“Are you kidding?” Twilight said flatly, rolling her eyes. “If I know Professor Glimmer at all, if I tell her she’s got a chance to examine a human-made alicorn, she’ll be on the next train to Ponyville.”

Visions of being strapped into to strange pony testing equipment blundered their way through Erin’s imagination.

“I’m sure that will be… fun,” she said lamely. A happier topic of conversation occurred to her. “By the way, Twilight. Now that my home’s been all wired up, I’m finally starting to set up my magical research lab.”

“Oooh!” Twilight’s ears perked right up as her eyes widened. “Tell me all about it!”

“Well, like I said, I’m still setting it up, but…”

Erin launched into a description of the gear she was in the process of unboxing. Twilight listened attentively, only stopping the description to ask for clarification when Erin used a term she was unfamiliar with, like “EMF meter.” The unicorn’s ears perked up when Erin mentioned her new electrocardiogram, and bringing up the portable electroencephalograph meter had led to a discussion about previous discoveries from pony scientists in regards to the electrical activity in a unicorn’s brain during spellcasting.

Twilight had just agreed to be the subject of a few tests when Rainbow Dash returned, landing quietly nearby and listening in for a few seconds in order to find out what they were talking about.

“Oh, egghead talk,” Rainbow said as she interrupted, shrugging her wings dismissively. “Whatever. The mayor says to wait for the bell to stop ringing, and then to go whenever we’re ready.”

The tension, which had been pushed back by the brief conversation, came flooding back. Twilight’s back stiffened back up and Applejack’s eyes narrowed. Fluttershy came to her hooves, with Rarity standing up beside her. Pinkie folded up the game of checkers, eliciting a groan from Spike, and put the board back in her saddlebags.

In the distance, Ponyville’s Town Hall bell began to ring. It continued on for roughly a full minute before stopping.

“I guess this is it, then,” Twilight said, frowning down at her hooves.

“I reckon so,” Applejack said, once again looking towards her home.

Rarity nodded, standing tall and proud. “Begin when you’re ready, Twilight, and I’ll be with you.”

“Same here,” said Pinkie, the usual bounce gone from her voice.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight asked, looking over at the pegasus.

There was a long moment of silence. Erin looked over to see Fluttershy chewing pensively on her lower lip while staring at nothing.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight asked again, causing the mare to jump and let out a little squeak as she came back to the here-and-now. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this now, if you’re not ready.”

Fluttershy took a deep breath before shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. I… I wasn’t able to sleep much last night, which means that I had a long time to think about what I need to do. I may have an idea on how to handle this.”

“Well, whatever you do, you won’t be doing it alone,” Rainbow Dash said, a sentiment that was echoed by the others. “He’ll learn to be nice even if I have to beat it into his thick head!”

“Thank you, Rainbow,” Fluttershy said with a gentle head-shake. “But we can’t force him. That’s not the way.”

Dash huffed and frowned. “Well, then, what is the way?”

“We just have to teach him how to be friends,” Fluttershy replied, her voice soft but firm. “If we’re his friends, I’m sure he’ll be ours in return.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Pfft, as if Discord knows anything about friendship.”

“That’s why we have to teach him, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy insisted. “Besides, haven’t you ever thought about how lonely he must be without any friends?”

Rainbow looked like she was about to reply, but then looked at Discord’s stoney face for a few seconds. She sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll at least try.”

“Alright,” Twilight said, determination rising in her voice. “If anypony has any last-minute objections, now would be the time to bring them up.”

“I’ll just be cowering over here with Erin, if that’s okay,” Spike said, making no attempt to hide the fear in his voice.

Erin let out an uncomfortable chuckle and patted him on the head.

“Alright, then,” Twilight said.

Her horn glowed lavender, and the gold-banded, light blue chest that Celestia had dropped off opened to reveal the Elements of Harmony. A shiver ran down Erin’s spine at the sight of them. They had a simple beauty to them, though they looked more like costume jewelry than anything else. But she couldn’t help but remember what it had been like to be caught up in the force of them, every sense overwhelmed as the warmth and the waves of color rolled over her. The Elements had saved her from the most horrible experience of her life, but they were still incredibly powerful magical artifacts, and worthy of the utmost respect.

“Whee, my balloon necklace!” Pinkie cried, snatching up the Element of Laughter and cuddling it to her cheek. “Oh how I’ve missed you, ballooney-necklace-thing!” She snapped it on and adopted an intense and serious look. “I’ve come here to kick flank and eat cupcakes. And I’m all out of cupca— Oh, wait, here’s one!” Pinkie pulled a pink-frosted cupcake out of her mane and ate it in one bite. “Okay, now I’m out of cupcakes!”

“Focus, Pinkie,” Twilight said as she settled the Element of Magic on her head, just behind her horn. To Erin, it didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it wasn’t like she’d ever have to wear it. “Let’s remember to keep these on at all times until further notice.”

“Right!” the others chorused. Except for Pinkie, who chirped out, “Okie-dokie!”

“Spike, Erin, you may want to stand back for this,” Twilight said.

Erin was all too happy to oblige. She backed away while looking warily at Discord’s statue, barely even noticing as Spike pushed at her legs in order to get her moving faster.

“Alright, girls, this is it,” Twilight said. “Let’s hope this releasing spell works!”

Erin watched, her heart thudding in her chest as Twilight’s horn began to glow, dimly at first but with a rapidly-increasing brilliance. After a few seconds, light began to radiate from the other Elements, the symbols pulsing brightly. As one, each of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony began to rise into the air, lifted by some invisible force.

Power buzzed and crackled in the air, making the hairs of Erin’s coat stand on edge. Spike was standing underneath her, clinging to her left foreleg and staring at his friends. The air hummed and shimmered until, finally, a rainbow of light began connecting the gemstones of each Element, arcing around until reaching the gem on Twilight’s crown. The gem focused the rainbow, shooting it directly at the statue of Discord, which began to crack and crumble under the onslaught.

Harsh light poured from the cracks in the stone, flashing out in blinding rays. Erin flinched, pulling her head back and raising her right leg to cover her eyes. She wondered vaguely if ponies had sunglasses before a loud crack echoed over the hilltop.

Discord rose from his frozen crouch with a booming roar, his voice echoing across the land like thunder. He stretched upwards with both forelimbs grasping towards the sky. The air seemed to vibrate with the bellowing fury of Discord’s voice, and Erin took several steps back, Spike still clamped to her leg like a scaly boot.

“Yaaaargh!” Discord howled, clawing at the sky. “Euurgh! Waaaargh, augh, oh, wow, what time is it?” He blinked his heavy eyelids, smacking his lips and looking around blearily while he scratched his backside with his eagle’s talon. He reached into thin air and pulled out something that looked a little bit like an ancient Mayan stone calendar, regarding it with a thoughtful look and pursed lips. “Hrm… It seems you’ve woken me a little earlier than I expected,” he said, whinging the massive stone calendar away like a frisbee. It whistled through the air and exploded like fireworks. He groaned and started stretching his limbs one after another, pulling them like taffy to two or three times their original length before allowing them to snap back. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you! I just thought dear old Cessy-pants would keep me locked in stone for a while longer.”

“We can put you right back, if you want.” Twilight’s voice was grim. She wasn’t smiling at Discord’s antics, and neither were her friends.

“Oh, let’s not be so hasty,” the spirit of chaos incarnate said, resting his bearded chin in the palm of his lion’s paw and fluttering his eyelashes at Twilight. “I’m out, and that’s all that matters. Oh, and I understand you’re going to try and reform me.” He squealed and clapped his hands together. “Oooh, that is just so adorable!”

Rainbow Dash took to the air, zipping forward with a thunderous scowl on her face. “How did you know about that, huh?!”

Discord exploded into thousands of mini-Discords, which swarmed away from Rainbow Dash before reforming into his full-sized self. “Pfft,” he scoffed as he took shape, rolling his eyes as soon as he had them once again. “Like being locked in stone would keep me from hearing every little thing Celestia says.” He smiled a sad smile and intoned mournfully, “Oh, and I see that she’s decided to leave you all by your little lonesomes. Didn’t even hang around to say ‘hi’ to dear old Discord.” His smile turned knifelike, his single protruding tusk glinting in the afternoon sunlight. “I’m so incredibly hurt I could just die.”

Rarity cleared her throat and spoke up. “She said didn’t want to antagonize you before we had a chance to win your trust.”

Discord’s head spun to face her while the rest of his body kept facing Twilight, reminding Erin uncomfortably of The Exorcist. “Trust? Why, I’m already more trustworthy than the average bank! I’m just full of trust!”

“Full of something, anyway,” Rainbow muttered, just loud enough for Erin to hear.

Erin regretted her snort of laughter the moment Discord’s head snapped to look in her direction. She tensed up as the yellow and red eyes focused on her before widening in surprise. He took a hesitant step towards her, causing Spike to moan and shake as he clung to her leg. Erin stared at Discord, her ears laid back and her eyes wide as the spirit of chaos approached her.

“Oh, my goodness…” Discord’s voice was awed and disbelieving, matching his slack-jawed features and slow, dreamlike steps. “What… I don’t... “ He stopped and stared at her before breaking out into raucous laughter. “Just what are you supposed to be?”

“You’d better leave her alone, Discord,” Pinkie growled with surprising menace in her voice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t harm a hair on her silly little head,” Discord said.

He disappeared in a flash and popped back into existence right in front of Erin, who squeaked and flinched backwards. She heard Spike yelp as he let go of her leg and ran off. Discord’s eagle talon reached up and grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head this way and that while Discord peered intently at her, chuckling all the while.

“Discord,” Twilight said from behind him, the warning clear in her voice. “Let her go. Now.”

There was a flash of light, and Discord was suddenly wearing a white lab coat and an old-fashioned head-mirror on a band. He jammed the earpieces of a stethoscope into his ears, and Erin flinched as he placed the chill metal of the circular chestpiece of the scope onto the tip of her muzzle.

“Hmm…” he said, then “Hmm... “ again as he moved the chestpiece to her forehead. He sighed and straightened up, removing the stethoscope and hanging it around his neck. “I have bad news, my dear,” he said sadly as he looked down at her. “It seems that your morphogenic field is in flux.” There was a pause while Erin just stared at him blankly. “In flux. Discombobulated, muddled, all askew. Is any of this sinking in?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Erin replied, rubbing a foreleg across her jaw where he had grabbed her.

Discord leaned down to whisper conspiratorially into her ear. “Honestly, I don’t either. I probably made it all up. But it makes me wonder what would happen if I did this!” His lion’s paw zipped out and tapped her on the nose. “Boop!”

Erin let out a startled shout as the ground shot away from her. For a split second she thought that Discord had launched her into the air, all while accompanied by the weirdest stretching sensation she’d ever felt. She staggered backwards before tripping over her own feet landing on her backside among the short green grass.

The world seemed to tilt and sway underneath her as she looked down at herself, her brain completely locked in confusion, unable to piece together what she was seeing. For a long moment, everything just looked alien and wrong. Then it clicked.

She was human again. Somehow Discord had changed her back, skipping the two weeks of Ascent therapy that it took to change her from one shape to another. And, short on the heels of that realization came another: Discord hadn’t bothered to give her any clothes.

A lifetime of modesty reflexes kicked in, and Erin huddled up with an affronted squawk, covering as much of herself as she could with her arms. The grass was tickling her bare legs, and the sun was beating down on her unprotected skin. Her first confused thought was to wonder if ponies ever bothered with sunscreen.

“What the hell?” Erin held up a hand in front of her face, unable to quite grasp what had happened. “How… what did you do? What the fu—”

“Tsk!” Discord shook a talon at her. “Language! You’ll corrupt the pony folk!”

“Erin!” Twilight shouted from behind Discord. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not hurt!” Erin yelled back. She considered that for a moment, staring down at herself and feeling oddly disconnected from her own body. “He turned me back into a human!”

Discord stepped aside with a flourish. “Ta-daa! See? She’s completely unharmed, and a lot less fuzzy!”

Her friends gaped incredulously at her. Even little Spike, who had now latched on to one of Twilight’s forelegs.

“You turn her back!” Pinkie shouted. “Sunflower is supposed to be a pony!”

“How did you even know what she used to look like?” Twilight demanded.

“I didn’t, of course,” Discord replied, buffing his claws against his furry chest. “She did. Or, rather, her fledgling magical field did. I just helped her remember, is all.”

“Well, you can just change her right back, or it’s back to being a lawn ornament!” Rainbow shouted.

Discord laughed. “Oh, you ponies really crack me up, did you know that?” he asked as he shattered into a thousands of pieces and fell to the ground in a heap. A floating broom and dustpan appeared and swept up the pieces, which were then dumped back onto the ground, the pieces coming together to form his original shape. He grinned at the six grim-faced mares staring at him. “Trust me, I was doing her a favor. Whoever put her together did a pretty bad job of it.”

“You don’t get to make that call, Discord,” Twilight said. “Put her back the way she’s supposed to be, right now!”

“The way she’s supposed to be?” Discord said, eying Erin out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if you’re sure…”

As he started reaching a talon towards her, Erin was seized by a sudden panic. Discord had changed her once, and she seemed relatively okay. Risking him changing her again seemed like a bad idea, especially since he seemed a little annoyed.

“Wait—!”

“Boop!”

Discord tapped her on the forehead, and once again the world jumped. Erin staggered sideways a few feet before stopping, splay-legged and trying to hold onto her balance. A quick glance down showed her that she was once again on four hooves, her coat that familiar shade of sandy brown.

“Ugh, that felt so weird,” Erin muttered queasily.

“Sunflower, are you okay?” Pinkie called over to her.

Erin took a moment to consider. “Yeah, Pinkie. I think so. Do I look okay? Everything in the right place?”

“You look great!” Pinkie called back.

“What, you expected me to do a substandard job?” Discord pressed his lion’s paw to his chest. “Oh, I am wounded.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” Rainbow Dash snapped, shaking a hoof at him, “but I can arrange it.”

“Rainbow Dash, enough,” Fluttershy said as she stepped forward. “And, Discord? You should know better than to change somepony like that without their permission. It’s not nice.”

Discord’s vexed expression morphed into a wide grin as he turned to Fluttershy. “Oh-ho-ho! And if it isn’t little-miss-reform-Discord herself!” He zipped over to her, still floating in the air. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you!” he said, taking her front hoof and shaking it rapidly. “I just know we’re going to have just oodles of fun, you and me! We’ll bake cookies and have tea parties and take long walks and talk about our favorite books and bring about eternal chaos and go to the spa together and—”

“What was that about chaos?” Applejack interjected. “And let go of her!”

Discord stopped pumping Fluttershy’s leg and pulled away, leaving her looking dazed and more than a little worried. “See?” he said as a little halo appeared above his head. “I’m doing just as you say! Why, I’m practically reformed already!”

As Discord floated in the air while playing a little golden harp that appeared out of thin air, the others exchanged another in what was sure to be a long series of worried looks.

Erin’s stomach was still roiling and her head was spinning, like she’d just gone on the world’s most extreme roller-coaster. It didn’t help her nausea at all that she didn’t believe for a moment that the spirit of chaos had her best interests in mind.

“Are you alright?” Twilight asked softly as she stepped up next to her. She shot a glare at Discord, who was currently offering a bowl of oranges to Applejack, who looked less than amused at the offering. “Do you think he did anything strange to you?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Erin replied as the world slowly stopped waltzing around her. “But I’m planning on heading to the doctor and getting a thorough examination the first chance I get.”

“That seems reasonable,” Twilight replied with a grim chuckle. “If they find anything wrong, do you want me to have Discord fix it?”

“Oh, hell no. That would just give him another chance to mess with me.” Erin shuddered, her skin crawling at the very idea.

Twilight nodded. “Alright. That makes sense.” She gave Erin a hug across the withers. “I’m sorry we didn’t stop him from messing with you in the first place.”

“Not your fault,” Erin replied with a shaky smile. “Besides, we knew this was going to be a bumpy ride when we started.”

Whatever Twilight was going to say in reply was cut off by a loud shout from Applejack, who was currently chasing her hat across the field. It had grown hundreds of stumpy little legs and was fleeing from her while Discord hovered in mid-air, laughing and clutching at his sides.

“A bumpy ride is an understatement,” Twilight growled as she stalked forward.

Erin gave herself another quick visual once-over. Everything seemed to be in its proper place, at least as far as she could tell. As far as first contact with a mischievous spirit of chaos went, she supposed that things could have gone much worse.

Immediately upon having that last thought, Erin grimaced and wondered what sort of ironic hell she’d just called down upon herself.

The sun was setting on their first day on the world of Harmony. Most of the set-up work was done, with Raka supervising the setup of the biology lab. Early awkwardness between the humans and ponies was starting to fade away as the two species became more familiar with one another, culminating in their very first community meal. Raka had introduced some of the braver pony scientists to her spicy vegetarian curry, and the ponies had dipped into their reserves of baked goods, sharing out delicious muffins and cookies.

Raka’s muffin had apple slices baked into it, with a crackling cinnamon and sugar crust across the top. She ate it slowly as she sat on top of the shipping container that held the biology lab, watching as the sun set over the grass-covered plains to the west.

“What are you doing up there?” called Spectral Charm from below.

“The sun is about to set,” Raka said. She pointed a finger, indicating the little flying reptiles flitting through the air. “You know what happens then, right?”

“Oh!” There was the sound of hooves scrabbling against metal as Spectral clambered his way up a ladder designed for humans. “You’re right, I wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“Miss what?”

Raka looked up to see a pegasus stallion in the air next to them. His coat was a faded teal, his mane a dusty black. His wings were flapping away as he hovered next to the shipping container that Raka was seated on.

“Mind if I land?” the pegasus asked breathlessly. “Flying’s a lot harder than it should be, for some reason!”

“I don’t mind at all,” Raka said. Spectral just grunted in reply, focused more on the horizon than the pegasus.

“Oof!” the pegasus grunted as he landed heavily next to them. “Haven’t had that much trouble taking wing since I was a colt. Name’s Windbreaker, by the way,” he said by way of introduction, holding out a hoof. “Please don’t joke about it.”

Raka managed not to laugh when she realized what the pegasus meant. Instead, she gave the hoof a couple of shakes. “Nice to meet you, Windbreaker. My name is Raka.”

“Spectral Charm,” her unicorn friend said. He frowned, glancing sidelong at Windbreaker. “Why would we joke about your name?”

The pegasus arched an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?” When Spectral just stared back at him blankly, he let out a low chuckle. “Well, don’t expect me to tell you. Anyway, what’s about to happen? Does it involve those flying lizards?”

“Yup,” Raka said. She brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “Didn’t you have a chance to watch the video we recovered from our exploratory drones?”

“Some of it, but I was more interested in going over the weather data,” Windbreaker said with a shrug. “So, what’s going to happen?”

“Just watch,” Raka replied with a smug grin. “It won’t be much longer.”

The few flying reptiles, looking like tiny dragons as they flashed and whirled in the dying sunlight, were soon joined by others. They rose from the grasses and from amongst the trees, forming huge, rainbow-colored clouds that undulated through the sky. Next to her, Windbreaker swore softly to himself, eyes wide at the sight of them all.

As the sun set, so did the little dragons. They settled back into the grass and in the trees, bending the branches down with the weight of them all. Only the research station was clear of the little beasts, which gave the humans, ponies, and their machines a wide berth.

As the sun finally slipped below the horizon, the singing began. First in fits and starts, then finally in a full-voiced chorus that swept in from the east. It was a sound that, to Raka, contained an incredible longing, as if the tiny dragons were wishing that the sun would stay up longer. But there was an undercurrent of joy, even as the last of the sunlight vanished and the largest of Harmony’s three moons began to appear in the sky.

All activity in the camp came to an abrupt halt as human and pony alike stopped to listen. Raka snuck a glance, curious what their reaction would be. For the most part, every human and pony was standing stock still, the looks on their faces ranging from awe to fascination to outright fear. A few scrambled up the ladders in order to get a better look at the tiny dragons as they sang.

As for the song, it was a presence in and of itself, rippling through the air and causing the container truck to vibrate underneath her. Raka found that she was holding her breath, unwilling to let even the small sound of her breath obscure the singing, even for a single moment.

Minutes flew by as the night air of Harmony resonated with the joyful, melancholy chorus before, finally, silence began to fall. It swept in once again from the east as the last of the light died out. In the aftermath of the song, the quiet seemed delicate, almost sacred. After a few minutes, the sound of insects started up once again, dispelling the last of the magical feeling that had lingered in Raka’s heart.

“Wow,” Windbreaker said after a moment. “That was sure… wow.”

“You said it,” Raka said quietly.

The three of them sat for a few more minutes in companionable silence.

“Oh!” Spectral Charm said suddenly. “Windbreaker as in ‘breaking wind’. I just got it!”

The pegasus put a hoof to his forehead and groaned. Raka chuckled and punched the unicorn in the shoulder.

“You are such a nerd, Specs.”

Chapter 20: A little bit of chaos

Apart from a few… stumbles, for lack of a better word, everything seemed to be going much better than Fluttershy had expected. Discord seemed to be inclined to mostly behave himself, at least after he’d been scolded for what he’d done to poor Erin.

“You’re quite certain you want him to stay with you, darling?” Rarity asked from beside her.

The question caused her heart to skitter in her chest like a frightened mouse. Fluttershy concentrated on trying to keep her breathing steady and her steps certain as she composed herself to answer.

Before answering, Fluttershy glanced over her shoulder. The rest of her friends, with Discord in tow, were coming along behind her. Though, she hadn’t needed to look to know they were there. She could practically hear Twilight’s teeth grinding even over the noise of the tuba that Discord had conjured up. He was hovering over the unicorn’s head as she walked along, playing an out-of-tune “Oomp-pah! Oomp-pah!” noise in time with her steps.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash were walking behind Twilight, with Applejack scowling the scowl of the deeply affronted—most likely because of the time she’d spent chasing her hat around the field after Discord had snapped his talons and gave it legs. Dash was walking for a change, glaring at Discord with her ears pinned back as if daring him to try something, anything, so that she would have an excuse to clobber him.

Fluttershy almost wished he would try something. If only he’d give them an excuse to hit him with the Elements again, she wouldn’t have to go through with this.

Spike, Erin and Pinkie were coming up at the rear of the little group, with Erin staring at Discord with a stony expression on her face that Fluttershy couldn’t quite read. She hoped that the former human wasn’t too frightened by Discord’s antics. After all, she knew first-hoof how unsettling it was having the spirit of chaos radically alter your body.

“He has to stay somewhere,” she replied eventually, her voice low enough so that only Rarity could hear. “I really think I’m the best choice.”

It was a relatively easy thing to say, but Fluttershy’s mouth dried up as her cottage came into sight. Even at this distance, she could see many of her animal friends scampering or winging away from the cottage, their instincts most likely warning them about an incoming storm of chaos. She couldn’t blame them, even if she longed for a few of them to stay behind. After all, they were getting out of the area to find someplace safe. In many ways, she reflected, her animal friends were much wiser than she was.

Her heart, already thumping alarmingly, increased in speed. It felt like she had a live hummingbird trapped in her chest, slamming into her ribs as it tried to escape. Every step she took was one step closer to committing her to having a wild and unpredictable creature of immense power staying in her home, one who was willing to do who-knew-what simply to stave off boredom.

Not that he always seemed to understand how what he was doing was wrong. Discord alternated between almost childlike naiveté with an ancient and world-weary cunning, resulting in him flipping between artificial and honest surprise when his “tricks” weren’t well received. There was more than a little bit of a feral streak in him, in spite of his occasional pretense at being urbane and cultured. It was as if somepony had given a willful and energetic ferret godlike power.

Fluttershy almost tripped over her own hooves at the thought. That must have been why Princess Celestia had asked that she be the one to take the lead on Discord’s reformation! After all, she might have no idea how to deal with the Spirit of Chaos, but a misbehaving animal? That was much easier to wrap her head around!

Discord was far more intelligent than the animals Fluttershy usually worked with, and that would definitely make him more dangerous, but that also gave her additional options that she didn’t have with the rest of her furry friends.

Fluttershy gained a calm sense of purpose. Her feathers stopped their intermittent ruffling and her heartbeat slowed almost back to normal. Not that her fear was gone, of course. What she was planning was very risky, and had a good chance of failing.

So deep was Fluttershy in her planning that she almost walked face-first into her front door without realizing it, her hooves having followed the familiar path while she was lost in thought. She blinked at the door, staring at it as it settled on her that this was it, her last chance to back out, to say no, to push the problem of Discord onto somepony else.

Onto one of her friends.

She turned, flashing a bright and fragile smile towards Discord, who was still hovering over Twilight like a mischievous thundercloud. “Well, this is it. This is my home. Would you like to come inside?”

Discord’s answering grin was so full of mischief that it should have been arrested on the spot. “Oooh, I would be simply delighted, thank you!”

If it had been one of her friends she’d been inviting in, Fluttershy would have opened the door and let them to go in first. Instead, she opened the door to her cottage and walked in with her step confident and her head held high. After all, one of the main tricks to handling a wild animal was to convince it that you’re the one who should be in charge, even if—no, especially if—you were scared out of your mind.

Discord backstroked through the air behind her, and her friends came in behind him, all of them clumping together in Fluttershy’s living room. Her pet rabbit, Angel, was lying on his favorite spot on the couch. He glared momentarily at Discord and slightly longer at Fluttershy before curling up with his back to the both of them and pretending to fall asleep.

Angel’s crabby attitude aside, it did Fluttershy’s poor heart a world of good to know that her pet wasn’t going to just abandon her.

“Nice place you have here,” Discord said in a flat tone that implied that he considered it anything but. “It could do with some livening up, though.”

He raised his talons as if to snap his fingers, and Fluttershy knew that now was her best chance to begin laying some boundaries.

“Discord, I was thinking—“ she began.

“Dangerous habit, my dear,” Discord drawled, his talons still raised. “Personally, I try to avoid it.”

Dash snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we can tell.”

Discord either didn’t hear her, or was pretending not to, so Fluttershy decided to do the same. He hadn’t snapped his fingers yet. That was good. “Well, my thought was that we could make my home a chaos-friendly zone. I mean, if you would like.”

Twilight gasped at that, and Rarity let slip a worried “Oh, dear…” under her breath.

“Oh?” A grey eyebrow arched up. “Well, that is a surprise. I think I’ll take you up on that!”

“I just have a few things I would like to ask, first,” Fluttershy continued.

Discord groaned and gestured widely with his arms. “Oh, here we go. Here come the rules.” He sighed and glowered down at her, his eyes glowing a menacing red which she did her best to ignore. “And you were doing so well, too!”

Fluttershy managed to keep her wings tucked in and her legs still, in spite of every instinct telling her to run. Running from a predator just triggered chase instincts. Right now, it was crucial for her to redirect him. “Not rules, really. Just requests. What I’m suggesting is that you can do anything you like here in my cottage. Be as chaotic as you want! All I ask is that, in return, you don’t do anything to hurt me, my friends, or any pony or animal that comes in here.” She glanced at Erin, who was still staring at Discord. “And that includes changing them in ways that you might think aren’t harmful. Other than that, you really can do whatever you like. How does that sound?”

Discord’s eyes narrowed. “And I suppose if I don’t agree, then I get the dubious pleasure of returning to my illustrious former career as garden art?”

“Well, not quite,” Fluttershy replied, somehow keeping her voice calm and level. “Like I said, they aren’t rules. But it is true that if you start hurting people or animals, then I’m afraid we won’t have any other choice but to act.”

“Hmm…” Discord regarded her while he floated in mid-air and stroked his scraggly beard. “And I can do whatever I like in here?”

“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy said with an eager nod. “I want you to feel at home!”

“Deal!” Discord crowed.

He snapped his talons, and a blinding light flashed from out of everywhere at once. Fluttershy blinked, her eyes watering as her vision returned to normal. When her vision recovered, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach almost made her regret getting her eyesight back.

The interior of the cottage was largely the same, only now there were putrid purple, grotesque green and obnoxious orange stripes zig-zagging along the walls and floor, constantly moving in a truly disorienting and disquieting way. White and yellow polka dots of various sizes pulsed in an upsetting fashion as they wandered aimlessly across the new décor.

“Like it?” Discord asked with a saucy smirk.

“It’s very… colorful,” Fluttershy said diplomatically, trying to ignore the retching sounds coming from next to her. Rarity wasn’t reacting at all well to the new color scheme.

“Thank you!” Discord said with a grin. “And I’m just getting started! I have so many ideas to brighten this place up! Oh, where to begin, where to begin!”

Discord floated off, presumably to look for more things to chaoticize, a sinister chuckle trailing behind him.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Twilight whispered to her while eying Discord’s retreating form.

Fluttershy smiled warmly and nodded in return. There was no way to tell Twilight what her plan was without tipping her hoof to Discord, but the simple fact was that there was little chance she could actually stop Discord from using his powers. By offering to let him use them in return for something that at least resembled proper behavior, she’d introduced a compromise where she had given up basically nothing, but Discord felt like he’d gained greater freedom by voluntarily limiting himself.

“I don’t like it,” Rainbow said, scowling like a thunderstorm. That image was helped along by Discord, who popped into the air above her in the shape of a sparking thundercloud and causing Dash to flinch.

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” Discord replied as his cloud-form began raining on the pegasus. “You’re kind of a wet blanket.”

“Oh, a sense of humor?” Rainbow shot back. She flailed her hooves through the air, barely missing the spirit of chaos, who vanished with a pop only to reform in his more usual shape in the middle of the room. “What do you do that’s funny? Turning ponies into the opposite of who they’re supposed to be? Taking my wings away? That’s supposed to be funny, huh?”

Dash’s glare didn’t seem to faze Discord at all. The draconequus rolled his eyes at her. “You got your wings back, didn’t you? Obviously, you have an underdeveloped sense of humor. I’m sure Pinkie Pie gets the joke.”

“Oh, I get it!” Pinkie replied, her usual humor missing from her grinning face. “It’s just not funny, is all.”

Discord snorted. “I try to be nice, and this is the thanks I get?”

One of Twilight’s eyebrows arched up. “How are you being nice?”

The leer that Discord sent Twilight’s way prompted the unicorn to crouch back. “Do you really think I couldn’t take action if I wanted to? Do you really think the spells that Celestia and Luna have been casting are stopping me from doing whatever it is that I want?”

Fluttershy watched as Twilight slowly straightened up, her ears coming back up as a thoughtful frown crossed her face. “I don’t know, honestly. Why don’t you test it and find out?”

The challenge in Twilight’s voice was clear, spoiled only a little bit by the trembling in her forelegs. Discord stared back at her, no emotion showing on his face. The air between the two positively baked with tension, and Fluttershy wanted nothing more than to hide behind the couch.

Discord blew a raspberry and shrugged. “Well, sure, I could, but I don’t want to right now.”

“Sure, right,” Twilight said, contempt heavy in her voice. “Some ‘all-powerful’ spirit of chaos. Right girls?”

Rainbow Dash chuckled at that, and Pinkie’s grin turned more natural. Spike groaned from his place in the doorway, burying his face in his hands. Erin, Applejack and Rarity were all looking at Twilight as if she were crazy, a sentiment that Fluttershy shared. You don’t test a bear’s temper by poking it with a stick.

“Uh, Twilight?” Applejack asked from her place by the doorway. “You sure that’s such a good idea?”

“Trust me, AJ,” Twilight replied. “I’m sure Discord is greatly exaggerating his abilities.”

Discord’s eyes narrowed as his grin became sharper. The zigzagging lines of putrid color adorning Fluttershy’s walls came to a screeching halt. “Careful, now, Miss Element-of-Magic,” he purred, his voice dripping with menace as he poked at her horn with a talon. “You don’t want to see me get angry, do you?”

Twilight shook her head and shot him an impish grin. “No, but I want to see you try, really try to break the wards and enchantments that the Princesses put around Ponyville.”

Discord stopped looking amused. “And if I do break free? What then?”

“Then we use the summoning ritual to bring you back,” Twilight shot back up at him. The way she was acting was enough for Fluttershy to consider having some very stern words with her. Maybe. At a later time.

For now, she had to stop this before Twilight got Discord any more riled up. “Um, Twilight?”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, silly little filly!” Discord said, folding his arms across his chest and smirking down at her. “Trying to control chaos?” He let out a whoop of laughter. “Good luck, you’ll need it!”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow said in that cocky way she had. “You seem pretty controlled to me right now!”

Dash grinned at Discord’s scowling face. Next to her, Applejack turned a wide-eyed stare at her colorful friend and loudly whispered, “Why would you do that?”

“Oh, yeah?” Discord said. He laced his lion’s paw and eagle’s talon together in a way that shouldn’t have been possible and stretched them out before him, making the knuckles crack. “You want to see some chaos, do you?”

“You bet I do!” Dash retorted.

“Ask and you shall—” Discord began.

Fluttershy finally found her voice. “No!” she shouted, stomping a hoof. Everypony stopped to stare at her, wide-eyed at the outburst, but she’d had enough. “This is my home. Discord, you agreed not to hurt my friends.”

Discord rounded on her, betrayed and furious. “But they—” he began, but Fluttershy had already turned away from him.

“And you girls! How dare you?” Fluttershy walked up until she was almost muzzle-to-muzzle with Twilight, who flinched away with her ears pinned back. “Discord is a guest in my home! I don’t expect you to be best friends with him right away, but I do expect you to at least be polite!”

Twilight grimaced and looked away, shame-faced and ears drooping. “Sorry, Fluttershy,” she whispered. “I have a reason—”

“Yes, I know.” Fluttershy said. She took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. Animals wouldn’t calm down in a hectic environment, and her friends were adding far too much energy to the situation. She needed to bring that energy down if she were going to make any progress. “I think it would be best for everypony to leave for now. Discord and I will spend some time together and get to know each other a little bit better.”

Her heart lurched in her chest as she said it, but she knew down to her hooves that it was the right idea. Even if her friends hadn’t been so aggressive, Discord loved playing to a crowd. The fewer ponies were around, the calmer he’d be. Or, at least that was her hope.

“We will?” Discord asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

Fluttershy risked a glance at him and was relieved to see that his anger was gone, replaced by a look of surprise that at least appeared to be genuine.

“Oh, yes.” Fluttershy said, smiling her warmest smile at him. “I’ve never had a conversation with anyone quite like you before. I’m sure it will be fascinating!”

Discord’s look of surprise increased for a moment before it was replaced by that confident smirk he usually had on his muzzle.

“You sure you want us to leave you alone with him?” Erin asked, directing a flat stare at Discord, her legs planted and her ears jutting forward aggressively. The emotion on her face, the one that Fluttershy hadn’t been able to recognize before, was obvious now; the former human was nursing a deep, simmering rage. She, more than anypony, had to leave, before Discord did or said anything to set her off.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She smiled at her friends, trying to project an image of a mare who was confident and in control. She wasn’t sure how well she pulled it off, since it wasn’t a look she wore often. “I’ll be fine, I just know it.”

All of them looked torn, none more so than Rainbow, who was flexing her wings and giving Fluttershy a look of helpless desperation. “You sure you know what you’re doing, ‘Shy?” she asked.

“Positive,” Fluttershy said, doing her best to mask the mounting panic she was feeling with a mask of calm serenity.

It took a little more convincing, but eventually she got them all on their way out of her door. All of them went, with dragging hooves and backwards glances.

Rainbow was the last out the door. She turned and hugged Fluttershy, taking the time to whisper in her ear. “You really gonna be okay?”

“I’m sure of it,” Fluttershy whispered back, leaning into the hug. “Just… keep your tablet with you. I’ll send a message if anything goes wrong.”

“You got it,” Rainbow replied, her hug tightening for a moment. Her coat was rough and her mane smelled like lilac shampoo and rainwater, two things she’d always associated with her oldest friend. The scent steadied her, a reminder that Rainbow would always come for her if she were in trouble, no matter what obstacles were in the way.

Rainbow broke the hug and sent a glare Discord’s way. “Just remember, we’ve got our eyes on you.”

“I’ve got my eyes on me too,” Discord replied. Hundreds of eyes opened up all over his body, blinking and leering at Rainbow Dash, who suddenly looked like she was going to be ill. Fluttershy didn’t blame her. Discord’s new look was fascinatingly grotesque.

The eyeballs vanished as Dash backed quickly out of the doorway. Discord moved to stand in the doorway, waving and calling out, “Bye, now! Buh-bye! Byeeee! Bye!” He slammed the door. “Good riddance,” he grumbled. “Seriously, I hardly did anything at all, and still they get mad at me!”

Fluttershy, now alone in her house with the spirit of chaos, regarded him curiously. “Do you know why?” she asked eventually.

Discord snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Probably because of what I did to that not-quite-a-pony. But I changed her right back to the way she was!”

“Oh? From your tone, it sounded like you were intending some... mischief.”

Discord snorted. “Oh, like I would really want to play ‘Dodge the Rainbow of Harmony’ so soon after my release. I even made a special effort to make sure she kept that so-called ‘cutie mark’ of hers,” he said with accompanying air-quotes. “No appreciation, honestly!”

Fluttershy blinked and filed the information about Erin’s cutie mark away for later investigation. More important was the fact that Discord seemed genuinely confused, and maybe even distressed, by everypony’s reactions.

“Well,” she said, offering up a smile. “How about I make up some nice tea for us, and I can try to explain why everypony was upset?”

Erin stalked away from Fluttershy’s cottage, a scowl on her face as she stared down at the dirt road beneath her hooves. Discord’s little trick of changing her back to her human form had knocked her off of her feet, figuratively and literally. At first, she’d been too shocked to feel much of anything. Once that wore off, she’d felt unnerved, and then afraid.

For a terrifying few minutes, that fear had almost overwhelmed her. She’d watched Discord receiving a scolding from Twilight Sparkle and wondered why her friend wasn’t running away, screaming in terror.

And then… somehow, something changed. The fear reached its highest point, and then collapsed into a hot, tight ball of anger. After that, one thought kept surfacing every time she glanced at the spirit of chaos. How dare he?.

“Are you okay, Erin?”

She glanced to her left to see Twilight trotting alongside her, only to look away from the sympathy she saw on her friend’s face. She didn’t want compassion right now. She only wanted to hit something.

“Yeah,” Erin replied shortly. “Going to the hospital to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.” She blinked and shook her head “Wait. No. Going home, first. I have scans there that were taken of my body right after I came out of Ascent.” She scowled as she marched down the dirt road towards Ponyville. “I have to see what he changed.”

Pinkie Pie came up on her right side, offering up an optimistic smile. “If he did change anything, we can just have Ascent fix it, right?”

“Not really comforting, Pinkie,” Erin snapped.

She walked along for several seconds before she realized that she was walking alone. Her ear flicked as she heard Twilight speaking softly, and she looked back to see Pinkie staring after her with a stricken look on her face.

“She’s just upset,” Twilight was saying to Pinkie. “She’s had a pretty bad shock today.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t have to yell at Pinkie,” Rainbow said from above the two of them, directing a dirty look Erin’s way.

Hot anger crested inside her, scalding words forming on her tongue before she clenched her jaw, blocking them in. Part of her wanted to scream at her friends, wanted to make them understand how she felt.

They do understand, you idiot, she thought savagely, disgusted at herself. According to the stories she’d heard, her own encounter with Discord was the equivalent of a stubbed toe on a battlefield.

Guilt and shame rose up and swamped her anger, her ears drooping as her head hung low. “Sorry, Pinkie. I didn’t mean it.”

That brought a little smile back to Pinkie’s face. “I know that, silly.”

“It’s just… I hate feeling helpless like that,” Erin said as she started walking again, though less quickly than before. “I mean, I know I’ve changed shape before, but it was always by choice. I decided to become a pony, and I decided to become a human again. And I understood how it worked, in general, and the risks involved. For something to just come along, snap its fingers and remake me like that…” She shuddered.

“Welcome to the club,” Rainbow Dash said, landing next to her and bopping her across the back of the head with a wing.

Erin gave a wry smile at that.

“Still, I think it’s a great idea to get checked out,” Twilight said. “Did you want me to come with you?”

“Me, too!” Pinkie chimed in.

Erin’s first instinct was to turn them down, not wanting to be a bother. She hesitated as she realized that she’d never been to an Equestrian hospital before. That, and her fear had only been temporarily eclipsed by her anger. It was still there, a low-lying dread that filled her bones. Suddenly she realized that she very much didn’t want to be alone. “Yeah. Thanks, I’d really appreciate that.”

Twilight nodded, turning to address the others in a businesslike fashion. “Dash, Rarity, Applejack, would you mind staying in the vicinity of Fluttershy’s cottage? If anything happens and the tablets don’t work, you can help out while Dash comes and gets me. We’ll have Discord back in stone before he can blink.”

Rainbow Dash saluted. “You got it!”

“What about me?” Spike asked.

Twilight considered that for a moment, tapping her chin with a forehoof. “Hmm. Well, the Princess did ask me to send her a report on anything interesting. Could you send her a letter, updating her on the day's events?"

"Sure thing!" Spike replied, already pulling a scroll out of the little satchel he had with him. "What about after that?"

"Would you mind staying here? If anything happens, you can send a note to the Princesses right away.”

“You got it!” the little dragon said with an adorable salute.

“Good idea, though I’m not certain what we’ll do while waiting,” Rarity said.

“Maybe we can go insult Discord some more,” Applejack said, giving Twilight a narrow look. “Seriously, what the hay was up with that, sugarcube? I was worried you lost your mind or somethin’!”

“Oh.” Twilight’s eyes flicked around, her cheeks darkening as she blushed. “Well, I just thought it would be a good idea to test and see if Discord could actually break free of the wards. You know, while we were all there.”

Applejack didn’t look too impressed by that reply. “Uh-huh.”

“I mean, we were all together,” Twilight explained, sounding confident even as she shrank back in on herself. “We could have just used the Elements.”

“Right,” AJ replied with a nod. “Exceptin’ that we were in the middle of Fluttershy’s cottage when you invited Discord to do his worst. Y’all think about what might have happened to her home if you set him off right then?”

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, broken when Rainbow Dash muttered “Awk-ward” in a sing-song voice from somewhere up above them.

Twilight grimaced and shot the pegasus a mildly dirty look. “I didn’t think of that,” came her sheepish reply.

“I didn’t recon’ you did,” Applejack replied. “Next time you wanna try an’ stick a burr up under the tail of the spirit of chaos, maybe give us a heads-up before you get started.”

“Right,” Twilight said, her head hanging. “Not one of my better plans, sorry.”

Applejack shrugged. “Shucks, sugar. It turned out alright, I guess. Anyway, you go on and get Erin to the hospital. We’ll stay here and keep an eye on things. We can pass the time by getting used to these here tablet doohickeys.” She pulled her apple-themed tablet out of her saddlebags. “I recon’, if we’re gonna use ‘em to send messages in case of trouble, we may as well learn how to use ‘em right.”

“Excellent idea!” Rarity’s horn glowed. Her tablet, now encrusted with a truly ridiculous number of gemstones, rose out of her saddlebags like a high-tech disco ball. “Go on, dears, I’m sure we’ll be just fine here.”

The two groups exchanged goodbye hugs, with Erin reminding the four staying behind to keep an eye on the battery indicator for their tablets. Then the three of them made their way back into town, Pinkie forgoing her usual bouncing step in exchange for a more subdued walk.

It was only a few minutes later that they reached Erin’s cottage, now one of the most unique buildings in Ponyville. The cream-colored walls with the green trim were normal enough, but the glassy, dark-blue tiles on the roof looked out of place, almost alien when compared to the other homes in the area.

That’s because it is, Erin reminded herself with a snort.

She let herself in through the unlocked front door. Using keys as a pony was an annoyance that she just didn’t feel worthwhile, if she could avoid it. The metallic taste was awful, and it was really frustrating getting the key in the hole when she couldn’t see past her muzzle.

“Come on in,” she said as she led her friends inside.

“Wow,” Twilight said, looking around as she walked in. “You really changed this place a lot since I was here last!”

Erin glanced around at her living room. It still felt weird to have her own place, but it was feeling more like home every day. A dark red rug covered part of the hardwood floors, with her sofa and chairs on one end and the entertainment center on the other. She had a large-screen TV, slightly smaller than the one she’d given to Twilight, along with a media center containing a couple hundred movies and thousands of songs. A few family photos were scattered around, mostly her brothers with their families, and a couple with just her parents in it.

“That’s right, you haven’t been here for a while.”

Twilight nodded, looking at a picture of one of Erin’s brothers and his family. “Yeah. Last time I was here, you still had boxes stacked all over.” She glanced along the walls, which were covered with mostly-empty bookshelves. “You need more books.”

“That’s on the list,” Erin said with a grin. “I have hundreds of books on my tablet, but I want to make sure I have lots of space once I start to load up on Equestrian books.”

“I approve of that,” Twilight said, shooting her a grin in return.

Erin smiled back as she made her way to one of the bookshelves. One large cardboard box was wedged into the bottom of it. She pulled it out and flipped the lid off, sorting through the folders within and looking for her medical files.

“This is a really nice sofa!” Pinkie exclaimed. She was stretched out on her back with her hind legs up on the armrest.

“Yeah, I slept on that for a while before I got a bed,” Erin said, looking back over her shoulder.

“I can tell,” Pinkie said. Her hoof shot up into the air, holding aloft a sandy brown feather. “I think you need to get a vacuum cleaner.”

“Uh, that’s also on the list,” Erin said, flushing. One of the downsides to having wings was finding discarded plumage everywhere, from little fluffs of down to broken vanes to full feathers, though luckily her regular preening regimen kept that to a minimum.

“What’s this?” Twilight asked, her horn glowing as she pulled out one of the few books that Erin had brought with her from Earth. “Phoebe and her Unicorn, the complete collection, volume one?”

Erin glanced over with a snicker. Pinkie rolled off of the couch, the soft rug muffling her hoofsteps as she walked up behind Twilight to look curiously over her shoulder.

“That’s one of my favorite comics from when I was a kid,” Erin said. “That, and my dad’s old Calvin and Hobbes collections.”

“This so-called ‘unicorn’ is far too skinny,” Twilight groused, frowning at the cover.

“I’ll say!” Pinkie exclaimed, right in Twilight’s ear.

Twilight, obviously not aware that Pinkie was there, let out a startled “Waugh!” as her magic blinked out, dropping the book onto the floor. She whirled in place, staring at her friend while holding a hoof up to the front of her chest.

“Pinkie! What have I told you about startling me like that?” Twilight demanded.

“Um…” Pinkie tilted her head and blinked a few times. “Not to do it?”

“That’s right!” Twilight said, then added, “Erin, it’s not funny!”

“I can’t help it!” Erin replied, chuckling. “The look on your face!”

“Twilight,” Pinkie said. “I’m bright pink and not usually all that subtle. Is it really my fault if you don’t notice me?”

“She’s got you there,” Erin said. “And here are my records.” She pulled the thick folder out of the box with her teeth.

The unicorn growled something as she picked the book back up in her magic and slotted it back into the shelf.

“Oooh, Sunflower, can I borrow that book?” Pinkie asked.

Erin finished wedging the folder into her saddlebag. “Sure, why not?”

“Yes!” Pinkie cried, pulling the book out and dropping it into her own set of bags.

Erin put the lid back on the box and stood up. The little bit of laughter had her feeling much better.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s get to that hospital.”

The metal table was cold under Erin’s hindquarters, even with the insulating layer of disposable paper and the dubious comfort of the hospital gown she’d been asked to wear. The table was too high, her back legs dangling off into empty air as she idly kicked her hooves, bored out of her mind.

The exams were over, at least. Erin had insisted on waiting for whatever results she could get, though she was told that the blood work wouldn’t be done until the next day. As strange as it had been to get the once-over as a pony, and in spite of hospital policy, she had insisted on Pinkie and Twilight being allowed to stay if they wanted.

Her friends, wanting to be supportive, had stayed for most of it; Pinkie had stepped outside when her blood was drawn, looking a little queasy. Both of them had left when the exam got to one very uncomfortable stage, much to Erin’s relief. She hadn’t been sure what pony norms were in regards to that particular exam, but it seemed like it wasn’t any kind of social event.

She shifted on the table, crinkling the paper under her rump and causing the hospital gown to ride up a little bit. She absent-mindedly adjusted it back down with a hoof. The gown confused her, seeing as she’d come in naked in the first place. Why in the world did ponies even bother with them?

She briefly considered asking Twilight or Pinkie, but couldn’t quite figure out a way to ask that wouldn’t lead to a probable faux pas.

“So, what were all those exams?” she asked instead. “I mean, I get the stuff like the blood pressure and heart rate check, but what about that first spell he cast?”

“Thaumic trace,” Twilight said from her chair, looking up from the three-month-old magazine she’d been listlessly flipping through. “Honestly, I should have thought of doing that myself. It’s a pretty simple spell.”

“What does it do?” Erin asked, kicking her back legs idly as she sat on the table.

“Gives the caster a basic impression of how well the magic is flowing through your body, and if it’s going through the correct places,” Twilight said, putting the magazine down. “I imagine yours is more complicated than he’s used to, since you have traits of all three pony tribes.”

“And that machine he had me stand in front of?” Erin asked. It had reminded her of an old-school X-ray machine.

“The X-ray, or the other one?” Twilight asked.

“Oh! Uh, the other one.”

“That was to get your full magic map,” Twilight said. “Basically, all the routes that magic takes as it flows through your body.”

“Hmm…” Erin said, her rear hooves still kicking restlessly through the air. “You think it will be much longer before they come back with the results?”

“Shouldn’t be much longer, I would think.” Twilight glanced over at Pinkie, who was slumped against the wall with her chin propped up on her forehoof, fast asleep. “We should get her home, soon. She looks pretty worn out.”

“It’s been a long day,” Erin replied, then sighed. She was pretty tired herself, even though it was still early in the evening. She chewed her lip for a few seconds, finally voicing the thought that had been clamoring for attention the whole time she’d been in the hospital. “Do you think Fluttershy is okay?”

Twilight winced, and Erin felt an immediate stab of guilt. Twilight would have no better idea of that than Erin herself would.

“I really, really hope so,” Twilight replied heavily. “Nothing’s come up on the tablets, Rainbow hasn’t burst in shouting for us, and I haven’t heard any distant screams or explosions, so I’m hopefully optimistic.”

Erin returned Twilight’s tired grin.

“I guess I’m just worried about her.” Erin frowned down at her hooves. “I got so wrapped up in my own drama, I actually managed to forget that she was still stuck with him.”

“I’m worried, too,” Twilight said, voice soft. She looked away, in the general direction of Fluttershy’s cottage. “I’m just amazed that she actually volunteered for this. I mean, you know Fluttershy. She’s so—”

“Much stronger than you think,” Pinkie Pie muttered sleepily. One eye cracked open and she looked around muzzily. “Your test results are back,” she said. Then she yawned and closed her eyes again.

Erin was just about to ask what Pinkie meant when a knock sounded at the exam room door. A moment later, the door opened to admit Dr. Stable. The tan-coated unicorn was holding up an open folder in his magical field, frowning down at the contents.

“Well, Miss Sunflower, I have your results… most of them, at least. Still waiting on the blood test and a full analysis of your thaumic signature.”

To Erin’s eye, the doctor had a grim look to his face. Her previous fears—not so much forgotten as temporarily misplaced during the long wait for the results—surged back, leaving her throat dry and her stomach churning like a whirlpool.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, not quite able to keep the quaver out of her voice.

“Nothing too alarming, so please relax.” Doctor Stable gave the folder one last scowl before setting it down on a nearby counter. “The good news is that, as near as I can tell, your recent scans came out identical to the ones taken from before you came from Equestria.” He grinned, looking up at her. “Those images are magnificent, by the way. Here’s hoping we get some of that equipment here!”

Erin blinked. “So, nothing is out of place?”

“Well, that’s where we come to the strange part,” he said. “See, you do have some anomalies, but those were there before you came to Ponyville.”

Erin blinked a few times as that news settled in. She traded a confused glance with Twilight. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, look here,” he said. His horn lit up and took out several X-ray films and clipped them to the light box, which he turned on with a flick of his horn.

Erin leaned forward, frowning at the image. Even after all this time as a pony, it was still hard for her to accept that the skeletal structure she was seeing was her own.

“I was concerned at first about these dark objects you see in these locations,” Doctor stable said, tapping each one with a pointer held in his magic. There was one in her torso that was the size of a grapefruit, a grape-sized one at the base of her neck, and one by each of her wings, each roughly the size of a golf ball. “They don’t correspond to any organ a pony is supposed to have. In fact, if it weren’t for the scans you brought with you, I’d be very concerned that Discord placed them there himself.”

“What are they?” Erin asked, her voice shaking as anxiety clawed its way up the back of her neck.

“I’m not really sure, but they seem to be causing fluctuations in your thaumic field.”

Erin frowned and pointed a hoof at the light box. “Could that be why I’m having so much trouble using magic?”

The doctor pursed his lips. “Hmm. It’s too early to tell, and I would like to bring in some experts, maybe do a biopsy, but it is definitely possible.” Doctor Stable took another film out of the folder. “Here’s a better look from the images you gave us. You said it was an... MRI scan?”

Erin looked at the film and nodded. “That’s right, yeah.”

“Fascinating, the amount of detail on this,” Doctor Stable said as he clipped it to the lightbox. He tapped his pointer on the same areas on the MRI. “Here’s our mystery growths. As you can see, they seem to be exactly the same.”

Twilight frowned at the screen. “I wonder why they’re there?”

“Perhaps a byproduct of the process the humans used to create her?” the doctor said. “I’m not certain, but I’m fairly sure that you’re not in any immediate danger.”

“Fairly sure? Well, that’s a relief,” Erin shot back. She heard the snideness in her reply and flinched. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve had a very rough day.”

“Completely understandable,” Doctor Stable replied soothingly.

“It might be something that Malachite did,” Twilight said, stroking her chin with her hoof.

Erin shuddered as a chill swept through her whole body. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s the one who designed the base form that the humans modeled your body on, right?” Twilight looked over at her. “It’s possible that he designed these for some unknown function.”

“First Discord and now Malachite? Oh, god, it’s too much,” Erin said, slumping on the table and burying her face in her hooves.

A pat on her back leg made her jump. She looked up to see Pinkie Pie’s smiling face. “Don’t worry, I just know it’s going to all turn out okay. After all, mean old Malachite wouldn’t have put those there if they were bad for him, right?”

“And if anyone can figure it out, it’s Professor Glimmer,” Twilight added staunchly. “I’ll write to her as soon as I get back to the library. I just know she’ll want to come out, now!”

Erin let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “Okay, yeah. Works for me.”

“In the meanwhile, I think we should do something about those wings of yours,” Doctor Stable said.

Erin blinked at him, confused. “Huh? Is something wrong with them?” She looked over her shoulder at her left wing, but nothing seemed out of place.

“Only that you can’t use them,” the doctor replied. “Otherwise, they’re perfectly healthy, if somewhat lacking in muscle tone. Honestly, you should have come in weeks ago. We can set you up with a physical therapist and get you using them much sooner than you would on your own.”

“Would that work?” Erin asked, her ears perking up. Everything else today had been bad news, but if this doctor could help get her wings working…

“Couldn’t hurt.” Doctor Stable flipped open her folder and began writing some notes. “We’ve been able to help pegasi with broken bones, torn muscles, nerve damage and even brain damage to get back into the air.” He smiled saucily at Twilight. “Your friend Rainbow Dash is one of our most frequent clients, if you’ll recall.”

“She does crash a lot while working on new tricks,” Twilight conceded.

“I’ll have the receptionist set up an appointment for you,” Doctor Stable said. “How soon can you come in?”

“Um…” Erin considered the question for a moment before shrugging. “How does tomorrow sound?”

“Tomorrow, hmm? Not putting it off, I like that,” the doctor replied, smiling. “Check with the receptionist on the way out and she’ll set it up for you.”

At this distance, it was impossible to tell if the young prince was screeching in outrage or delight. Or, perhaps, simply for the joy of feeling his teeth vibrate. The sound was amplified by the excellent acoustics in Celestia’s bathing room, the marble-tiled walls reflecting every sound out to Luna’s twitching ears. Even the sloshing of water and Celestia’s soft murmurs could be heard, if not her actual words. Luna supposed they were the typical types of things an adult would say while bathing a toddling foal.

A loud shout from Verdant followed by a splash caused Luna to amend her thought. Attempting to bathe a toddling foal.

Her decision to discuss the day’s events in Celestia’s private chambers was one she was seriously beginning to regret. There were, Luna reflected, few things less useful than being a childless aunt when it came time for her sister to put young Prince Verdant to bed. Past experience had informed her that her presence would only serve to excite the young prince and draw out the routine much longer than it already was.

Beside her, Raven shifted uncomfortably while adjusting her glasses. The mare was one of the assistants that Luna had borrowed from Celestia, and she had her notes from the Day Court with her, all ready to give Celestia a summary of the day’s events. Luna noted her flicking ears and shuffling hooves with a frown.

“Have you never been in my sister’s chambers before?”

“Not often, Princess,” Raven admitted, her nerves evident in the shaking of her voice. “I always tried to let this be her personal sanctuary.” She grimaced. “I feel like I’m intruding on something private.”

“Have no fear,” Luna replied. “My sister is far more welcoming and compassionate than most would—”

A loud shriek interrupted her, followed the the sound of a large amount of water sloshing out of a bathtub. Celestia’s distressed shout was quickly followed by a loud thump and a laughing squee. A moment later, a dripping wet Prince Verdant shot into the reception room of Celestia’s apartments, laughing maniacally.

Seeing Luna and Raven, the little prince stopped for a moment. “Butts!” he exclaimed joyfully, then ran off with a giggle into another room.

“Get back here, you little—” A growling Celestia rounded the corner in hot pursuit of her charge only to skid to a stop at the sight of Luna and Raven. “Oh. Hello.”

Luna did her best to not snicker at her sister’s appearance. She was wearing none of her usual regalia, leaving her hooves and neck bare. Her not-so-pristine white coat was wet and matted in several places, dotted here and there with soapy bubbles from the bath. Her flowing, multi-colored mane was held in place by a kerchief, and on top of that was a crown of still more bubbles. To top of her new look, a splotch of something pinkish and wobbly was streaked along one noble cheek.

“Greetings, Sister!” Luna exclaimed brightly. “We have brought you the report from the Day Court!”

Lavender eyes flicked towards the trembling secretary next to her as the frustration and surprise dropped from Celestia’s mien, replaced by that mask of calm serenity she usually wore. “It is good to see you,” the Princess said with a nod, her regal composure somewhat marred as the motion caused some of the bubbles on her head to slide down onto her muzzle. A momentary irritation pierced Celestia’s mask as she wiped the bubbles away with a fetlock.

“Naturally, we can wait until you’ve dealt with the young prince,” Luna added, grinning at the discomfort she could see under Celestia’s carefully controlled expression.

“I thank you,” Celestia said, nodding more cautiously this time. She disappeared through the same doorway Verdant had gone through earlier. A moment later, a piercing shriek sounded out, followed by the prince’s giggles and the sound of scampering hooves across the royal carpeting.

Luna finally let herself chuckle. She glanced over at Raven, who was staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth at the doorway Celestia had just gone through.

“It’s not often one sees her with her guard down like that,” Luna said softly, grinning at the other mare’s shock. “You should treasure the memory. It’s something to tell your grandfoals!”

Raven simply gaped at her in shock. “I would never violate Princess Celestia’s confidence like that!”

Luna sighed, some of her good humor leaving her. The pedestal that the ponies placed her sister upon was understandable, she supposed. Still, there was some satisfaction in kicking the base of that pillar from time to time, just to see what would shake loose. They together in awkward silence for a few minutes, while the sound of Verdant's babbling began to slowly die down.

“She’s changed quite a bit, you know,” Luna said, keeping her voice idle.

Raven’s face screwed up momentarily, but she finally took the bait. “Oh? How so?”

“She wasn’t quite so concerned with appearances, back when we were younger,” Luna said. “Nor was she quite so good at hiding her emotions behind that mask of calm serenity. I scarce recognized her upon my return to Canterlot, to be honest.”

“Really?”

Luna chuckled at the confused look on the secretary’s face. “Oh, my, yes. I suppose, to you, she’s the eternal Celestia, as constant as the sun. To me, she’s just my older sister, Silly Celie.” She leaned down to whisper into Raven’s ear. “She would belch at the dinner table, hog all the blankets and would blame me for stealing the last cookie from the jar.”

Raven drew her head back, one foreleg coming up as her eyes widened. “Really?!” she repeated, in a much more disbelieving tone.

“Yes!" Luna said with a joyful laugh. "But now…” she trailed off, staring at the rooms Celestia had disappeared into. “She’s changed so much without me.”

“Aren’t you about the same age, though?” Raven asked, then gasped, bringing her hoof up to her muzzle. “Oh, I’m sorry! That was rude of me, wasn’t it?”

“No matter,” Luna replied, waving away the mare’s embarrassment. “‘Tis true, we were born only a few years apart. However, my banishment passed by like a long fever-dream. I can scarce remember most of it, aside from a long stretch of confusion, regret and anger. Celestia had to live each and every year, fully awake while she lived and learned. She matured, while I stayed mostly the same. She is now by far the older sister.”

"I heard that, Luna," Celestia replied as she reentered the room. She must have taken the time for a quick grooming, because her coat was very nearly restored and the soap bubbles were gone. "Are we going to start making jokes about each other's ages, now, Little Lulu?"

"Ah-ha, I believe this is what the young ponies call 'snark'," Luna said, nodding thoughtfully. "I hear it's all the rage, these days."

"And that would be sarcasm," Celestia replied with a smirk. "Which is older than the hills."

"You would know," Luna replied with a grin.

Celestia opened her mouth to reply, then her eyes flicked towards the wide-eyed Raven, who was gaping at her as if she'd never seen her before. "Ahem, yes. Well, perhaps we should go over the day's events?"

Luna sighed. It looked like the banter was over. For now, at least. Perhaps she could enlist the help of Pinkie Pie to loosen her sister up further. She found her missing the old Celestia, even as obnoxious as she could sometimes be. "Very well. But before we do, have you heard anything of Discord?"

Celestia nodded. "A scroll arrived by dragonfire a few hours ago. Apparently, the release went better than expected. A few minor issues, but nothing the girls couldn't handle. He's currently a guest in Fluttershy's cottage."

"I still can't believe that Fluttershy is to be the one to reform him," Luna said with a grimace. "I can feel him even now, pushing at the wards we created and testing their strength. He certainly hasn't given up on regaining his freedom. I shudder to think what could happen to that poor mare, should he get sufficiently bored or frustrated."

"I don't expect his reformation to be quick or easy, but Fluttershy has the help of her friends." Celestia sighed. "It is out of our hooves, now, in any case. All we can do is trust the girls."

"Indeed." Luna shook her head. "Ah, well. On to more mundane things, then. The Arcanum is still rebuffing my invitations to visit Canterlot. All except for Moonlight Glimmer, who arrived this morning. Unfortunately, her field of study won't help much with creating or stabilizing inter-world gateways."

Celestia frowned. "Hmm. That is odd. Do you want me to ask them, myself?"

"No," Luna replied shortly. "If they will not respond to my invitation, then to Tartarus with them." She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to release the irritation she felt. Celestia meant well, she reminded herself. "I will conduct the research myself. Perhaps even enlisting the aid of Twilight Sparkle. Raven, would you mind going over the financial reports?"

Raven nodded, adjusted her glasses with her magic, and opened a distressingly thick folder. Luna, already achingly familiar with the contents and uninterested in hearing them once again, immediately began tuning the secretary out.

Luna loved numbers, and she adored mathematics. The dance of symbols, the interplay of integers, the joy of a well-documented proof, they made her heart sing and set her intellect ablaze.

Financial reports, on the other hoof, were where good numbers went to die. Instead of listening as Raven droned on, she instead contented herself with glancing around Celestia’s chambers.

Little changes were evident everywhere. Celestia—or, at least the maids—had kept the rooms pristine, but no amount of tidying up was able to keep pace with the energetic young Prince Verdant. Here and there were scattered various toys, from a wooden block lurking under a small table to a lonely pony doll propped up on a cushion. A half-eaten biscuit was barely visible underneath Celestia’s sofa, but Luna couldn’t be sure if it was the prince or the princess who was responsible for that one.

Luna kept glancing at the clock on Celestia’s mantlepiece. It was an exquisite thing, all golden and shining in the shape of a sun, its face protected by the finest crystal. It was also, as far as she could tell, running slowly. It simply wasn’t possible that providing a summary of the day’s financials could take this long.

Eventually, the little secretary’s voice wound down, which brought Luna back to the here-and-now.

“Well, that’s the financial report,” Luna said, relieved that it was finally over. “Raven, did you have the Starfall report?”

"Here, Princess," Raven said as she floated some papers out of one of the smaller folders she was carrying.

"Thank you,” she said as she took the papers in her own magic. “The nobles of Starfall Isle are causing a commotion once again." She snorted, laying her ears back as she pawed the carpet with a forehoof. "I've received several strongly worded letters, and their representative today made a very impassioned speech about a 'Pure Equestria'."

"I suppose it was due." Celestia heaved a weary sigh. "This nonsense seems to come to a head once or twice every century." She snorted, adding, "'Equestria for ponies,' they say. One short step away from 'everypony in their place, with the unicorns on top.'"

"Then I suppose we should lance this boil before it grows any larger," Luna said. "Any advice on how to do so without fueling enough resentment for them to propose becoming an independent city-state?"

"I find that waiting for the older generation to die off works wonders," Celestia replied, her voice wry. Her eyes flicked towards Raven, the wide-eyed secretary staring back at her almost disbelievingly. She cleared her throat and continued. "Provided, of course, that they don't pass their prejudices along to the younger generation. We need to expose them to more races, let the young people see that there are wonderful people in this world who aren't ponies."

"Tricky to do, since the entirety of Starfall Island is independently owned. We can't simply force them to meet other species. Can we?"

Celestia chuckled. "Not without breaking more than a few laws. I’m reluctant to do that, since I’m the one who wrote most of them. However, we can invite the young nobles to come to Canterlot for various social events, while making certain that these events have plenty of non-ponies in attendance."

"Good idea," Luna said, nodding. "That reminds me, the planning committee for the next Grand Galloping Gala met for the first time today. Do they really need to begin planning that seven months in advance?"

"Oh, yes," Celestia replied with a grimace. "It takes at least that long to suction all the fun out of it."

Raven giggled, blushed, and covered her mouth with a hoof before clearing her throat. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Celestia offered her a warm smile before returning to the discussion at hoof. "We'll have to make sure we extend some invitations to the humans."

"I've already spoken to their ambassador," Luna replied. "He promised to procure a list of noteworthy people from his world."

"Ah, the first inter-world Gala," Celestia said with a happy little smile. "With any luck, this will make for the second interesting Gala in a row. Which reminds me, we need to make sure to invite all of the Element Bearers this time. Last time, I tried giving just a pair of tickets to Twilight. It didn't work out so well."

Luna blinked, frowning. "Why would you only give her two tickets when she has five friends?" She considered for a moment. “Oh, yes, and Spike.”

"Honestly? I was hoping she would figure out that she was supposed to bring a date."

Luna stared at her sister for a moment before bursting into a full-blown belly laugh. “Seriously? You expected Twilight Sparkle to invite a suitor to the Grand Galloping Gala? Even I know better, and I didn’t all but raise her.”

“My hopes were, admittedly, a touch too high,” Celestia replied, a wry tinge to her voice. “Still, hope blooms eternal. It wasn’t all that long ago that she found no value in friendship. Perhaps, one day, she’ll see the value of romance. In any case, what is the next order of business?”

“Hmm, well, training of the new Dreamguard is proceeding apace. I should be able to begin deployments soon, with further training to follow in the Dreamrealms themselves. I shall keep one or two behind at the castle to begin basic training with the newest candidates, while I teach the more advanced workings of Dream Magic to the others. Let’s see, what else…”

The rest of the evening passed quickly, with Luna and Raven bringing Celestia up to speed on the events of the day. The elder princess was, naturally enough, already well in-tune with the local political and economic landscape, and was a veritable font of insight and suggestions.

For the most part, Luna was grateful to have her sister’s advice. Still, she was alarmed to find a small and disturbingly familiar ember of resentment burning in her breast. As a princess in her own right, there was a non-incidental part of her psyche that was convinced she could do just as well on her own, that relying on Celestia was a weakness.

An old voice from her past echoed in her mind. ”With my help, you can show them all what it means to be the Princess of the Night!”

She shuddered, blotting the memory out as best she could.

“Luna?”

Celestia's expression held nothing but concern. Luna let out a breath and smiled. “‘Tis nothing. Shall we continue?”

Her sister held her gaze for a moment before she nodded. “Yes, let’s do,” she said with a smile.

The sun was setting as Erin finally returned home. After the doctor’s office, she had tried to treat Pinkie and Twilight to dinner as a way of thanking them for their support. They’d turned down the offer, instead grabbing something quick from the hospital cafe before heading back to Fluttershy’s cottage to make sure she was okay.

Removing her saddlebags, she immediately went into her lab and fired up the large-screen portable computer she had in there. Like her tablet, it was a touch-screen. Unlike her tablet, it was roughly two feet wide and much more powerful.

A few taps was all it took to fire up the probe control program that she’d been given by the Wi-Fi technicians. The probes, self-sufficient quadcopters that had been loaded with sensors in order to explore Equestria before first contact, had been repurposed as mobile Wi-Fi repeaters in order to reach Erin’s more remote friends.

Twilight and Pinkie might have wanted to check up on Fluttershy, but Erin had her own ways to keep an eye on things.

After a few minutes of navigation, she managed to pull up the probe that was stationed near Fluttershy’s cottage. It had been repurposed to act as a mobile repeater to allow the town’s Wi-Fi to reach all the way out there, but it still had much of its old functionality.

Piloting the thing was easier than she’d been afraid it would be, with simple, tappable controls on the screen allowing her to direct it. The probe’s own software took care of the minute details, such as keeping it level and adjusting for the wind.

One thing caught her eye almost immediately. A small wisp of cloud hovered maybe fifty feet from the cottage, low and strangely immobile. Erin raised the probe and zoomed in the camera, frowning at the image on the screen. At first, she wasn’t sure what to make of the blue lump on top of the cloud, but then a flick of rainbow-colored tail filled her in.

She chuckled, glad that she wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on Fluttershy’s cottage.

For the first hour or so, Erin stared diligently at the screen, waiting for something to happen. Three hours later, well after the sun set and she’d switched to night-vision, she could barely keep her eyes open. Her jaw cracked with a yawn and she shook her head, trying to will herself awake.

She could sleep in the morning, when her friends were up to keep an eye on things. For now, Fluttershy needed her. She got up, stretched, and trotted in place for a few seconds, trying to get her blood pumping.

Her determination kept her going for another half an hour before sleep claimed her.

Chapter 21: Unexpected changes

The audience chamber was vast, fading into the distance with no walls in sight. Crystalline columns, carved with arcane runes, pulsed with a dim blue-white light as they stretched upwards before vanishing into pitch-black darkness. The floor of the chamber was a smooth red stone, speckled with black. In the center of the chamber, on a dais of silver and gold, the Goddess reclined upon an obsidian throne so dark that it seemed to absorb the light.

The throne wasn’t real in the physical sense, any more than the impossible audience chamber itself could have been. The Goddess had created it in the Realm of Dreams, forging the chamber and its accoutrements through sheer force of will.

She had created the chamber in response to a brief synchronization between the Veil of her world and Equus, the world of the ponies. The smallest of portals was all that was needed to allow the Infiltrator to appear and offer its report, and the Goddess found it pleasant to receive the report in a suitable environment.

The form the Infiltrator took superficially resembled the changeling that hosted its mind, though with green scales in place of chitin and a stripe of blue scales that ran down its back from muzzle-tip to dock. The Goddess pursed her lips at the sight of it. Apparently, some remembrance of its previous form had managed to survive after all this time.

“Speak, Infiltrator,” the Goddess intoned.

“The Child of Chaos is no longer in the garden.”

Veins of sullen red shot through the Goddess’ throne, pulsing with a magma-like glow, a reflection of the Goddess’ reaction at the news. Anger, and the frustration of hopes once again dashed.

Thus, I am once again reminded of the futility of planning, the Goddess thought as she struggled to keep her temper in check.

At the beginning of her incarceration, the Goddess had formed many plans. The barrier that imprisoned her had been formed in a rush, amidst the chaos of war. And so, she had reasoned at the time, it must have a weakness that could be exploited.

The most obvious vector of attack had been her control over her world’s Veil. But, no matter how she tried, she still couldn’t extend her magic through a portal she herself had created. Not to mention that each time she tried had caused the Caretaker to wake from his magically-induced suspension.

It was the barrier’s sheer simplicity that had defeated her in the end. Her power was absorbed by the smaller twin moons that circled her world and used to create the very barrier that prevented her influence from reaching the world below, the planet named Paradise by its former inhabitants. The barrier radiated some of that magic down over the world, but it was magic thoroughly stripped of her influence.

And, so, the Goddess had abandoned planning, opting instead to arrange matters as advantageously as she could. Her power over Paradise’s Veil allowed her miniscule influence over other worlds, nudging certain worlds closer to her own if she thought they could be of use to her.

When the humans of Earth had first created an artificial portal, that had been the first rekindling of hope in the Goddess’ heart in many thousands of years. When the humans had first reached Equus, with its diverse and powerful magics, the Goddess had once again begun to make plans.

And now the Child of Chaos had gone missing.

As the Goddess regained her composure, she noted that the Infiltrator was waiting patiently. She lifted one thin-fingered hand and gestured towards it. “Explain,” she said.

“The one called Discord was freed from stone. Apparently, one of the Equestrian princesses had a vision.”

A vision? Interesting… Future sight had been very nearly non-existent amongst her people. Only the Goddess and a small number of the priesthood were capable of such a feat, at least on her own world.

“A vision of what sort?” she asked.

“I was unable to ascertain that,” the Infiltrator replied. “The palace staff has only baseless speculation. However, I do know where Discord is. He is constrained to a small town called ‘Ponyville’.”

“Constrained? How so?”

“Powerful wards of Order magic keep him trapped there.”

“Can you break these wards?” the Goddess asked. “Can you free Discord?”

The Infiltrator hesitated before replying. “Possibly,” it said eventually. “It would take a considerable amount of time. The wards are very strong, and very complex.”

“Hmm… Show me.”

Memory flooded from the Infiltrator, springing fully-formed into the Goddess’ consciousness. She examined the wards in minute detail, impressed at both their complexity and their self-reinforcing nature. They were obviously the work of at least one very skilled and powerful spellcrafter.

Which made the single large, obvious flaw in the ward so puzzling at first. It had to be deliberate, especially when considering the reinforcements around the flaw itself. As she studied the flaw, it became clear that the purpose was to allow Discord to escape confinement, but only upon the completion of a very specific ritual. The ritual would work like a key in a lock, immediately summoning the Child of Chaos to the very spot where the ritual was cast.

“Clever,” the Goddess murmured. “Very clever.” She looked down upon the patiently-waiting Infiltrator. “There is an intentional flaw in the wards, used as a means of summoning Discord. We can use that ritual to bring him where we need him when the time comes.”

“I am not familiar with the ritual,” the Infiltrator replied. “Should I attempt to learn it?”

“No. Any attempt to do so may compromise your cover. You must remain disguised and in the palace whenever you are not aiding the changeling queen. I can work out the general shape of the ritual by examining the flaw itself. There are only so many ways to shape the magic that will unlock this ward.”

“Very well. Shall I wait here until the spell is completed?”

“No. The gateway will be closing soon. I shall contact you again once I have the summoning spell ready. In the meanwhile, this place where Discord is trapped… Ponyville? I seem to recall that this location had some importance.”

The Infiltrator nodded. “Those bearing the artifacts called the Elements of Harmony reside there.”

“Harmony. Yes, I do recall them.” The Goddess considered her options carefully while the Infiltrator waited silently at the foot of the throne. “It could be that these ‘Elements’ may make for a good fallback plan, should both Discord and Chrysalis fail.” She frowned, then. “How is the so-called queen progressing in her plans?”

“She is on pace,” the Infiltrator replied. “Nearly all of the Arcanum has been compromised by this point, and her changeling army is moving into key positions. So far, the ponies are none the wiser.”

“Very good.” Plans within plans within plans, though the necessity of this particular one was something that she found herself regretting. The ponies had no business being caught up in her war. But worse was still to come. “Let her know that ‘the Caretaker’ wishes for her to keep those six alive and unharmed. Tell her that he has a use for them, and will be able to transfer their powers to her. She may separate the bearers from their Elements if she considers them dangerous, but she is to keep both the ponies and their Elements safe and unharmed.”

“Yes, my Goddess,” the Infiltrator replied with a bow.

The report continued on for a short while, and the Goddess issued a few more instructions. After a while, the Infiltrator departed to carry out the next leg of its mission. Once again alone in the space she had created, the Goddess allowed herself time to revel in the freedom that she could only find in dreams. She stood from her throne, stretching her four thin arms towards the boundless sky, enjoying the nearly-forgotten feeling of stretching muscles and shifting scale. She called up a breeze and felt the air moving through the crest of feathery scales that ran from the crown of her head to the tip of her tufted tail.

Even in dreams, however, time still passed. She had plans to oversee and preparations to make. With a regretful sigh, the Goddess allowed the dream to fade back into the aether, returning once again to her captivity.

There was a tense moment of anticipation in the darkened theater, a tension which Erin shared—albeit for a different reason than the rest of the audience. She had her hands up over her eyes, having no desire to see what she knew was going to happen next. There was a crashing sound as the pony on the screen let out a distressed cry, followed shortly after by the glug, glug, glug sound of paint pouring out of an upturned can.

The audience started laughing uproariously, of course.

“I say, the picture quality is quite impressive, darling,” Rarity said from the seat next to her.

“Yeah,” Erin replied sourly. She glared up at the screen and the image of her first pony form, which was hunched up on the ground while paint dripped down across her coat.

“I expect this movie equipment must have set you back a fair amount of money,” Rarity continued. She held out a paper bag in her glowing blue aura. “Popcorn?”

“No thanks,” Erin muttered.

“Still, all of this is a very generous gift. And believe me, I know something about generosity.” Rarity took a dainty sip of her small diet soda. “One wonders what you were expecting in return.”

Erin frowned and glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Nothing, it was a gift.”

Rarity arched an eyebrow back at her. “You truly want nothing in exchange?”

“No, of course not…” Erin began, then broke off with a groan as she saw what the screen was showing now. “Oh, not the jump. Really?”

The image on the screen had shifted, this time showing a thirteen-year-old version of herself on her black and yellow BMX bike. Little Erin was wearing cargo shorts and a Minnesota Vikings jersey as she braced herself on the top of a hill, looking down the slope towards a dirt ramp.

“I can’t believe I was dumb enough to not wear a helmet.” Erin frowned. “You know, I could have sworn that ramp was a lot higher.”

“Well, memory can often exaggerate, dear,” Rarity replied. She straightened in her seat. “Oh, there you go!”

Just as Erin remembered, her younger self put on a lot of speed. And, also as Erin remembered, her takeoff was a grand thing, launching her teenage self high up into the air. The landing, however…

“Ooof! Oooohh….” the screen version of Erin groaned. The theater audience groaned in sympathy.

“Oh, my. That looked painful.”

“It’s not my fault! Nobody told me I was supposed to be standing when I landed.” Erin scowled over her shoulder as the audience behind her began chuckling. “I was walking funny for days. You’d think they’d be a little more sympathetic.”

“Comedy equals tragedy plus time, and this was quite a while ago, yes?”

“I suppose…”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them as the little Erin on the movie screen gingerly got off of her bike and began limping her way home.

“Have I ever mentioned the importance of trust?”

Erin gave Rarity a confused look. “No? I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s very important. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Erin frowned at the unicorn, who was too busy eating popcorn while staring at the screen to notice. “What’s this about?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Rarity replied casually, smiling over at her. “Only the fact that you don’t trust us very much.”

Erin’s mind went momentarily blank, uncertain of what she’d heard. When it finally registered, she blurted out, “I trust you guys!”

Rarity glanced over at her, arching that eyebrow at her again. “Do you?”

“Well, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“No idea.” The unicorn sighed and placed the popcorn into the empty seat next to her. “Well, I’m afraid we’re out of time for now. It’s time for you to be waking up.”

“‘What? ‘Waking up’?”

“We’ll talk again soon, darling,” Rarity promised as the dream fragmented around them. The audience was already gone, and the screen was blank as the theater itself faded into darkness.

“Rarity, wait!”

Erin woke up with a pained groan, blinking her sandy eyes as she looked around, momentarily wondering why she’d fallen asleep in front of her computer monitor. An orchestra of aches and pains began to hit her, playing an ode to the many various reasons why it’s a bad idea to fall asleep while sitting up at your desk.

Memory from the previous day hit her like a freight train, and her discomfort was forgotten as her head whipped around to her screen. The probe’s data feed was black, which caused a moment of panic until Erin noticed the angry red “0%” for the probe’s power display.

I guess running it all night with the night-vision on isn’t the best idea, she mused.

Still, that didn’t answer her worries about how Fluttershy was doing. Erin grabbed her saddlebags, still packed from the night before, and slung them over her back. She was out the door a minute later, galloping down the road in the early-morning sunlight.

By the time Erin neared Fluttershy’s cottage, most of the kinks had worked themselves out of her muscles and joints. She shot a grin at a nearby cloud standing oddly alone in the sky. It was unremarkable except for the wisp of prismatic tail hanging over the edge. It looked like Rainbow Dash had kept up with her own vigil—though judging by the loud snores ripping across the countryside, she hadn’t been able to stay awake all night either.

Then she saw the cottage, much sooner than she should have, and galloped the rest of the way, stopping by where the cottage’s front door should have been. Instead, the cottage was suspended in midair while rotating lazily, the roof now pointed towards the ground.

“Fluttershy!” she yelled.

“Oh, good morning, Erin,” Fluttershy’s tired voice said from behind her.

Erin turned to see her friend lying on the ground next to a bush. Pinkie Pie was lying next to her, and between them was an open box half-full of muffins.

“Hiya, Sunflower!” Pinkie picked up the box and twirled it on one hoof in a display of dexterity that made Erin a little bit jealous. “Muffin?”

Erin was about to turn her down when her stomach rumbled and restored her to sanity. “Sure, thanks,” she said as she took one. “Fluttershy, are you okay? You look kinda ragged.”

The pegasus, ordinarily well-groomed, was sagging everywhere. Her coat was matted and dull, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, and her mane was a mess of tangles.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Fluttershy confessed. “Mostly, we sat up and talked all night. He’s really a very interesting person!” She frowned, adding, “Though, I think some of the stories he told me weren’t completely true. I’m pretty sure jellyfish don’t grow that large.”

Crisis momentarily over but with hunger still unabated, Erin took a bite of her muffin. It turned out to be blueberry, and still slightly warm from the oven. There was a moment of shocking early-morning violence as she devoured the whole thing, only narrowly avoiding eating the paper wrapper along with it.

“Well, you look exhausted,” Erin said once she was done chewing. “Can you get him to put your house back so you can get some sleep?”

Fluttershy sighed. “I would, but he vanished about an hour ago. I have no idea where he is.”

“Well, that isn’t at all worrying,” Erin replied with a shudder.

“He hasn’t gone far,” Pinkie said confidently. “Twilight said we’d know if he tried to leave town.” She hummed and tapped her chin. “Something about the wards setting off alarms, or something?”

That wasn’t much comfort, as far as Erin was concerned. Still, nothing in town was on fire as far as she could tell, so maybe the spirit of chaos was behaving himself?

And maybe the Equestrian moon was actually made of cheese. Erin decided to ask Luna the next time she saw her.

There wasn’t much she could do about Discord and whatever shenanigans he was up to, Erin decided. But Fluttershy was a different matter. “Well, you can always sleep in my house.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to be a bother…”

“You’re not going to be a bother, Fluttershy. I’ll be at Applejack’s this morning, and I’ve got my wing therapy this afternoon, so the place will be empty for a while.”

Granted, she’d want to take a shower before she went to the hospital, but she was pretty sure Applejack wouldn’t mind letting her use the one at the farm.

“Oh, thank you, but I can’t leave Angel Bunny behind.”

Fluttershy gestured at the bush next to her. Erin spotted the rabbit hunched amidst the branches and glaring out at the world with such an intensity that Erin was mildly surprised that the leaves hadn’t caught on fire. The little white rabbit turned his glare her way.

“Good morning, Angel-rah,” Erin said solemnly, following it up with a salute. “You’re welcome to stay in my house as well.”

If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn that the rabbit had given her a suspicious look before finally relaxing a little and nodding.

“Oh, well… if you’re sure... I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Erin shook her head. “It’s no trouble at all, Fluttershy. You can even use my shower. I won’t mind, and you’ll feel a lot better.”

“O-okay, well… thank you.” Fluttershy started getting to her hooves, with Pinkie helping her up. “I’ll head over now, if that’s okay.” Another yawn put the conversation on pause for a moment. “I really am quite tired.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Pinkie offered, putting her shoulder against the gently-swaying Fluttershy. Erin noticed for the first time that Pinkie’s stuffed rabbit, Mister Hugglebunny, was perched on her back, held in place by a small saddle-like device. “I’ll come back after the morning rush to check on your house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” came the inevitable protest.

“It’s okay, I want to,” Pinkie said. “Come on, now, let’s get you over to Sunflower’s place, and Auntie Pinkie will tuck you into bed all nice and snuggly-wuggly.”

Pinkie didn’t notice the exasperated frown Fluttershy shot her way. “You know I’m a year older than you, right?”

Pinkie giggled. A moment later, Angel Bunny stepped out of the bush he’d been hiding in, gave Erin a courteous nod, and hopped after the pair.

“Strange rabbit,” she muttered before shaking herself. She stepped off the path, opting to take a direct line through the fields towards Sweet Apple Acres instead of taking the road.

The sun shouldered its way steadily upward into the early morning sky—not always a sure thing in Equestria—and released a beam of glowing golden light. This light sped past lakes and valleys, through forests and towns, avoiding many obstacles only to strike Rainbow Dash directly in the face. The pegasus let out an annoyed grunt and rolled over, instinctively reshaping the cloud behind her in order to block out the offending light. She was just on the verge of falling back asleep when a stray thought started poking around in her still-drowsy brain.

She was apparently sleeping on a cloud which, in itself, wasn’t all that weird. What was weird was that she could hear the birds singing and smell the dew on the grass, which meant that it was early in the morning. It also meant that she was outside. Her fuzzy brain examined these two facts independently, scrutinizing them and moving them around like jigsaw puzzle pieces for a minute or so before it clicked.

For some reason, she’d spent the night sleeping outside on a cloud, rather than in her bed at home. That realization also sparked a few other thoughts, which rushed at her with all the grace and subtlety of an avalanche.

Rainbow’s eyelids snapped open just in time to catch another of the sun’s golden rays square in the eyes. She flinched back with a pained hiss even as a hind hoof lashed out, dispelling the cloud and dropping her earthward. Well-muscled wings snapped open, catching the air enough to turn her fall into a directed dive, meaning that Rainbow made the short flight to Fluttershy’s house in the blink of an eye.

Or, rather, where Fluttershy’s house should have been. Now the whole cottage was hanging sideways in the air, with the whole thing revolving slowly in a clockwise direction.

“Fluttershy!” Rainbow yelled, rushing up to the currently horizontal door of the cottage and pounding it with a hoof.

There was no answer, so Dash zipped inside an open window. “Fluttershy!” she called again.

There was no sign of her friend. All of her furniture had tumbled to the lowest point of the house, skittering and rolling along the wall to the floor as the cottage slowly revolved upright again.

“That jerk!” Rainbow snarled. There was a certain draconequus that Dash was going to give a piece of her mind to. But first, there was something a lot more important to take care of. “Fluttershy!”

It was easy enough for Dash to avoid the falling furniture and personal effects, though the constantly-changing orientation of the cottage made it a little hard to keep her perspective. She flitted her way to Fluttershy’s bedroom, hoping to find some sign of her friend.

The sound of running water brought her up short, coming from the home’s small bathroom.

“Is she taking a shower?” Dash muttered, incredulous. “Wait… how is the plumbing working?”

There was no answer when Rainbow knocked on the bathroom door, so she let herself in. Typically, it was considered rude to barge in on another pony in the shower, but these weren’t typical times.

There was definitely a shadowy shape behind the shower curtain. A high-pitched voice was humming away, some directionless little tune echoing off the walls.

“Hey, Fluttershy. You okay?” Dash asked. When the figure behind the curtain didn’t reply, she got closer. “Fluttershy?”

Still no response.

Her heart began pounding in her chest like she’d just flown a race against the Wonderbolts, adding to the fear she’d felt since she’d first seen Fluttershy’s cottage rotating in midair, and she knew it wouldn’t settle down until she saw that her friend was okay. Muttering a quiet apology under her breath, Dash reached out and yanked the curtain back with a forehoof.

“Eeek!” Discord shrieked, cringing up against the wall and holding a scrub brush defensively across his chest.

“Gaaah!” Dash shouted in reply, startled half out of her skin by the sight of the sudsed-up spirit of chaos.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Discord with the scrub brush in one hand and a yellow rubber duckie in the other and Dash feeling like her heart was trying to break out of her chest.

Discord glowered at her from underneath a ridiculous flower-printed shower cap. “I swear, can’t even take a shower in peace!” he complained.

Dash gaped at him. Her eyes flicked up to the shower cap, and for a brief moment she wondered where he was keeping his horns. “Where’s Fluttershy!” she shouted, flitting up until their muzzles were almost touching.

“You ever hear of personal space, Dashie-poo?”

“I’ll knock you into space if you don’t tell me where she is!”

Discord groaned. “I expect better comebacks from you, Rainbow Dash.”

It had been kind of lame. Not like Dash would ever admit that. “I don’t care! Where is she? If you’ve hurt her, I swear—”

Discord’s eyes took on an unfocused look for a moment. “It seems she’s catching some Z’s over at your mutual friend’s house. You know, the shape-shifting pony-like-thing?”

Dash blinked. “Erin?” she guessed.

“Oh, was that her name?” Discord started scrubbing his back with the rubber duck. He squeezed the scrub brush, which let out a mournful squeak. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Gee, I wonder why she had to go sleep over there?” Dash scowled at him when he opened his mouth. “Don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question.”

“You know a word with four syllables?” Discord grinned while scrubbing between the toes of his dragon leg. “I’m impressed, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” Rainbow replied. “I’m going to go check on her, and if she’s not there, I’m coming back for you.”

“A dire threat, indeed,” Discord sneered in reply. He’d shut the shower off and was now drying himself with a large, fluffy pink towel that he’d produced from somewhere.

“While I’m doing that, you can put her house back down where it belongs.”

Discord grinned and flung the towel away. “Oh, I would, but I’m afraid I was just about to go out.” He snapped his talons, and light flared. When it cleared, the draconequus was gone.

Rainbow Dash snarled out a curse and flung herself out the nearest window.

Ordinarily, she would try to keep her speed down while in town. The last time she’d really cut loose, the mayor had some choice words for her. Words which included things like “irresponsible” and “dangerous” and, most worryingly, “punitive fines” and “flight restrictions.”

She couldn’t worry about that right now. Her wings blurred as she pushed herself as fast as she could through town, the wash of her passing rattling windows in their frames and knocking loose thatch from nearby roofs. She arrived at Erin’s house less than a minute later, flying directly to the upstairs window and peering in.

Much to her relief, she immediately spotted the Fluttershy-shaped lump in Erin’s bed. The tight band of tension around Rainbow’s chest started to loosen as she took in the pink mane and yellow forehooves resting on top of Erin’s big, fluffy comforter. Fluttershy had a look of perfect, serene rest on her face as she slept, her ear twitching slightly in whatever dream it was she was having.

A small white shape was curled up at the bottom of the bed. Angel Bunny raised his head and glared up at Dash as if daring her to do something as monumentally stupid as waking the sleeping mare up.

Rainbow heaved out a sigh of relief. Fluttershy was okay. For the moment, that was the most important thing in the world. She flew up to Erin’s roof and, finding a relatively comfy spot amidst the shining blue-black solar tiles, lay down to wait for her friend to wake up.

The morning baking was finished, the breakfast rush was over, and the cleanup was done, which meant that Pinkie Pie now had the rest of the day off from the bakery. Her first stop was to deliver a fresh banana cream pie to Mrs. Lavender’s rooftop, like she did every morning. After that, Pinkie had spent an hour or so with the old widow herself, listening to her talk of the old days, all while surreptitiously tidying up her small house whenever the elderly mare wasn’t looking.

Mrs. Lavender tended to speak in a steady stream of disjointed stories, tales of ponies long since passed on or moved away, most of whom Pinkie had never met. It was a sad thing, in a way... but in a different way, it filled Pinkie’s heart with an oddly melancholy sort of joy. The ponies themselves might have been gone—some of them for longer than Pinkie had been alive—but they had left their stories behind in Mrs. Lavender’s failing memory. And now they lived on in Pinkie Pie’s memory, too, which meant that they had a strange sort of immortality.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for Pinkie Pie. And Mrs. Lavender really seemed to like these little visits.

After leaving the old mare’s house, her second stop of the morning was prompted partially out of an earlier promise, but mostly out of curiosity. Mainly, she wanted to see if Fluttershy’s house was still revolving.

So, off and away she bounced, out into the streets of Ponyville. Her happy pronk slowed and eventually stopped, with Pinkie looking around as the mood of the town settled over her like a heavy, damp blanket.

The atmosphere around town was nervous and subdued compared to the usual mid-morning activity she was used to. That was probably because of their newest neighbor being the self-titled spirit of chaos, she decided. It was something that was bound to put even the most level-headed ponies on edge. The townsponies were looking over their shoulders and flinching at every noise, scuttling around the market without the normal chit-chat that made life in Ponyville so much fun. The mood felt like a thunderstorm waiting to happen, hiding just out of sight behind some hills, and it made Pinkie’s coat twitch and itch like crazy.

Pinkie frowned at the sight of it. It seemed like she had some work to do.

At least the movie theater was doing good business, she noticed as she walked past it. Maybe it was because it offered an escape from worry, or maybe because human movies were so very different from pony films. The marquee currently displayed two lines: “The Best of Buster Keaton” for the matinee shows and “The Wizard of Oz” for the evening show. She hadn’t seen that many ponies lined up outside the movie theater since… well, since ever, now that she thought about it.

“You’ll like Buster Keaton,” she called out to the ponies waiting in line, causing more than a few to jump and turn around to look at her. “Especially the one about the house. It’s a real hoot!”

She grinned and waved, receiving a few smiles and waves in return, and continued on her way. That amount of cheering up wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Soon enough, Fluttershy’s house came into view. Actually, it was sooner than normal, on account of it being waaaaay up in the air like that. On the ground, near where the front door should have been, was a pair of perfectly perplexed ponies. Pinkie Pie perked her ears forward and increased her trotting speed, careful not to upset Mister Hugglebunny, who was situated in his now-usual spot on her back.

“Fluttershy? Fluttershy, where are you?” Rarity was calling out, staring helplessly at the rotating house above her.

“Oh, this is bad,” Twilight fretted, dancing in place. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Rarity cried out in response.

“I’m not sure I can teleport up there with it moving like that!”

“But what if poor Fluttershy is in danger?” Rarity replied, looking a little wild-eyed. “We have to get up there!”

“We need Dash.” Twilight was scanning the sky with quick flicks of her head. “Or, any pegasus, really!”

“Oh, poor Fluttershy,” Rarity whimpered. “What if Discord did something to her?”

“We never should have left her alone!” Twilight moaned.

“This is all our fault!” Rarity cried.

“Everything is bad and wrong and terrible forever!” Pinkie Pie wailed, causing the other two ponies to squeal and jump for some reason. “Oh, except Fluttershy. She’s fine, she’s just getting some sleep over at Sunflower’s house.”

Rarity and Twilight blinked, taking a moment to process that.

“Really?” Twilight asked eventually.

“Yuh-huh,” Pinkie replied, nodding like her head was on a spring. “We both stopped out earlier today to see her, and she was really worn out. I guess ‘Shy was up most of the night talking to him.” There was no need to say who ‘him’ was.

“Oh, the poor dear,” Rarity said, while Twilight shuddered.

“Eh, she can manage,” Pinkie replied, waving a hoof. “Give her a week, maybe two, and she’ll have mean old Discord wrapped around her hoof.”

Twilight chuckled at that. “I’d like to think so, Pinkie.”

Pinkie grinned, taking her own worry and doubt and shoving it deep, deep down inside, where nopony else could even get a peek at it. “Don’t worry so much. It’s all going to end in friendship and rainbows, you’ll see!”

Pinkie Pie had some very important work to do. So did the others, actually, though of course it wasn’t nearly as important as what Pinkie was up to.

Rarity, it turned out, desperately needed to work on some dress orders that she had been putting off. Twilight needed to check the anti-Discord wards around town. So the three friends went their separate ways after agreeing to meet up for dinner that night, to talk about how things were going with Discord in town.

Pinkie had her own mission, one that was of the utmost of importance to her as Ponyville’s Official-Unofficial-Cheerer-Upper-and-Premier-Party-Pony: she had to cheer up the ponies in town. And that meant that she had to pull out all the stops and assemble a party to end all parties, the biggest and bestest party she’d ever pulled off!

It was a high bar to reach, but Pinkie was already planning away. A list was forming in her head—well, three lists, to be technically accurate. The first list contained an inventory of all the party supplies she already had on-hoof, carefully stowed away in the basement under Sugarcube Corner. The second list was all of the supplies she’d need to buy, in order to make this the biggest blowout that Ponyville had ever seen.

The third list was a list of invitees. It was the easiest list, having only one entry, and that entry was “Everypony”. Pinkie considered that for a moment before mentally adding “except for Discord” at the end. She felt a momentary pang of guilt at that before shrugging it off. Discord being at the ‘name-of-party-still-pending’ party would make everypony nervous and scared, which would kinda be the opposite of what she was going for.

Besides, Discord wasn’t a pony, so did “Everypony” even apply to him? It was definitely food for thought—unlike cupcakes, which was food for parties. And occasionally breakfast. Plus, Zecora wasn’t a pony, and neither were Cranky and Matilda, but Pinkie definitely wanted them to come. So, now mental list number three had “Everypony except Discord” crossed out and replaced with “Everyone in or around Ponyville who wants to attend, except for Discord” but with the “except for Discord” part underlined three times in red ink.

The party was already assembling itself in her imagination, and it was a glorious thing. There was going to be music, and food, and games, and prizes, and dancing, and…

And there was no way she could pull this off by herself, Pinkie realized with a deflating sigh. Not if she wanted everything done before the end of the week. She’d need help.

“Mister Hugglebunny?” Pinkie asked.

There was a chime sound from the plush rabbit astride her back before Mister Hugglebunny’s mournful voice spoke out. “What is it, Pinkie Pie?”

“Please set a reminder: Ask the girls for help regarding super-party, one hour from now.”

There was a momentary pause before Mister Hugglebunny spoke again. “Okay. Reminder set: ‘Ask the girls for help regarding super-party’ set for 12:17 PM. Would you like the reminder to repeat until completed?”

Oooh, that was a good idea. Pinkie nodded, then remembered that Mister Hugglebunny didn’t really get gestures like that. “Yes, please! Every hour until I ask you to stop.”

There was another chime sound. “Reminder set, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie was just about to thank him when a familiar and, as Rarity would say, most unwelcome voice spoke from above her.

“Oh, my! A party?” Discord came down from the sky as if he were swimming through the air, a pair of water-wings on his arms and a swimming cap on his head.

Where are his horns? Pinkie wondered briefly before taking that thought and shoving it into an imaginary box labeled “Stuff that doesn’t matter right now.”

“Oh, my goodness. Could this be it?” Discord asked as he touched down on the dirt road in front of her. He placed his paw and talon on either side of his face, his eyes literally sparkling. “Is this my long-delayed ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party?” He frowned, then, ears drooping and his bottom lip wobbling. “You throw one for everyone else who shows up in town, but you never did for me…”

Guilt that Pinkie knew she shouldn’t be feeling welled up. She balled it up and shoved it into the same imaginary box, where it could keep company with the speculation about his currently-missing horns.

“Well, I figured you threw yourself your own party,” Pinkie quipped, slipping on a #64 smile: ‘blatantly fake and not caring if he noticed’. “You know, the whole turning Ponyville into the ‘Chaos capital of Equestria’ thing you did?”

“True, true,” Discord replied as he stroked his goaty goatee. “Still, it’s not the same as being welcomed, is it?”

Pinkie let the fake smile fall away from her muzzle. “I throw a welcome party for new friends, Discord.”

An arrow sped out of nowhere, thudding into Discord’s chest with a shocking suddenness that made Pinkie jump and yelp.

“Oh, you wound me, Pinkie Pie,” Discord moaned, clutching at the arrow. “Right to the heart, you know that?” He pulled the arrow out, only now the end was a big, colorful, spiral lollipop. “We could be friends, don’t you think?”

He offered the lollipop to Pinkie, who wrinkled her muzzle in disgust and pushed it away.

“After all,” Discord continued, “out of all your friends, you and I are the most alike.”

He took a bite out of the lollipop while Pinkie scowled up at him.

“No, we’re not,” she stated simply.

Discord’s eyes twinkled. “We’re not?” he asked with a voiceful of humor. “We’re both seen as weird and strange by everypony around us, aren’t we? Oh, the shenanigans we could get up to! We could have so much fun! Unlike me and Flutterbutter.” He held out the lollipop again, which was now shaped like a crescent moon due to the huge bite he’d taken out of it. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”

Pinkie ignored the lollipop, instead opting to narrow her eyes up at the spirit of chaos. “You really don’t get me at all, do you?”

“Oh, what’s not to get?” Discord rolled his eyes and pitched the lollipop backwards over his shoulder. The stick caught fire and it launched itself up into the air with a shriek before exploding like a firework. The last few ponies who hadn’t fled the market at Discord’s first appearance all flinched and beat a hasty retreat. “You’re a pony like all the other goody-goody, predictable ponies of the world. It honestly makes me gag. You’re the only one I’ve met who is even slightly interesting.”

The market square was deserted, now, which suited Pinkie just fine. An idea had popped into her head—a wonderful, terrible, awful and incredible idea, and she was in just the right place to do it. She ambled her way to a nearby tree, as if trying to get away from Discord, who tagged along behind her while still droning on.

“Why, in all the centuries I’ve been around, no pony has ever managed to truly surprise me,” he was saying.

“You seemed awfully surprised by the Friendship Rainbow to the face,” Pinkie pointed out.

“If you want to think so,” Discord replied. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re all so boring it makes me want to cry.”

And cry he did—big, blubbery fake tears—and Pinkie decided that crocodile tears are a lot less creepy when they’re not actual crocodiles. Though, the crocs themselves were kinda cute as they scampered away through the grass.

“Just stop,” Pinkie said, bucking the tree in what she hoped would just look like an expression of frustration. “If we’re so boring, why not just leave us alone?”

Up in the branches of the tree, she heard a quiet rattle, followed by an oh-so-faint sighing sound. The ball is knocked loose, and it’s rolling down the tree branch… she thought.

“You need to understand the true meaning of Chaos,” Discord intoned, drawing himself up pompously. “There’s a reason why I blah-blah-blah.”

“Uh-huh,” Pinkie replied, tuning out Discord’s self-important speech. Ball hits the counterweight, which kicks off the spring…

“Blah-blah, blah-blah-blah,” Discord continued proclaiming. “Blah? Blah! Blah-blah blah blah!”

...Whirlygig releases, the tension in the wire goes slack, causing the base to rotate… “Uh-huh.”

“Blah? Blah-Blah!”

“Uh-huh,” she said, then became aware of the fact that he’d stopped talking. “What?”

“I asked if you’re even listening to me.” He glowered down at her, arms folded across his chest. “It seems clear that you’re not.”

“Sorry, I was distracted for a few seconds, there.” There was a faint ”twang!” sound in the distance, from way over by Mrs. Lavender’s house. Or, more precisely, from Mrs. Lavender’s rooftop. Pinkie frowned, realizing that an adjustment would need to be made for Discord’s taller-than-a-pony stature. “Could you move your head down just a skosh?”

Discord frowned, lowering his head down until he was almost eye-level with Pinkie. “What’s a ‘sko—’?”

A ballistic banana cream pie smacked him full in the face with a thick and oh-so-satisfying “thwuck!” noise.

“That’s for what you did to Sunflower!” Pinkie yelled.

And then she turned on a hoof and ran as fast as her little pink hoofsies could take her, because that’s what sensible mares did when they pie the avatar of chaos in the face, and Pinkie Pie was nothing if not sensible. She took the first turn she could, then another, turning down streets at random and racing until her legs burned and her chest heaved. She came to a stop in a narrow alleyway, panting and leaning against the wall in the back of Mr. Davenport’s shop.

“I take it back,” Discord said from above her. He still had pie in his bushy eyebrows and chunks of banana in his beard. “In all my many centuries of life, one pony has managed to truly surprise me.”

Pinkie stomped a hoof. “Ooh, I knew I shouldn’t have taken the streets at random! Chaos, right? That’s how you found me, isn’t it?”

“Not quite,” Discord scooped a glob of pie filling off of his eyebrow with a talon and popped it into his mouth. “Banana cream? Nice choice. And fresh, too.”

“Well, duh. I wouldn’t hit somepony in the face with an old pie.” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “That’s just plain rude.”

“I appreciate it,” Discord said. He took off his bathing cap, which Pinkie had totally forgotten he was still wearing. His mismatched horns popped up with a rubbery “boing!” noise. “Good thing I still had this on, or my mane would be a mess!”

“So, how did you find me?” Pinkie asked.

“Oh, that’s simple,” he replied. “I can see through time itself!” He waved his arms through the air and made a spooky-sounding “Oooo!” noise.

Pinkie considered that rationally and logically for a few seconds before calmly giving her rebuttal. “No you can’t.”

Discord blinked. “I assure you, I can.”

“Nope.” She shook her head, resolute. “If you can see the future, I never could have pied you, and we never would have been able to rainbow you back into a statue.”

An overstuffed armchair popped into existence. Discord, now wearing a tweed jacket and black-rimmed glasses, sat down in it. “Very astute, but just because I can see through time doesn’t mean that I do it all the time.” He pulled a pipe out of the jacket and gave it a puff, causing rainbow-colored bubbles to float out of it. “The past and present are easy, since there’s only one of each.”

Something in Pinkie’s head went click. “That’s what you meant about hearing everything Celestia said! You looked into the past to hear it!”

“Very good, I’m impressed!” Discord replied, grinning smugly down at her. “What, did you think I was aware of my surroundings while I was petrified for centuries? I’d go insane!”

“Insaner. Which would explain a lot, really.”

Discord waggled his eyebrows at her. “Good point,” he said. “But the future... Ah, the future!” He waved his pipe through the air. “So many possibilities! So much potential! So much lovely chaos!” He grinned down at her, and she shivered just a little. “But when I said I look into the future, I meant all of it, all at once. Every possible outcome of every decision and action that I, you, or any creature takes, even the actions I take in response to the things I see in the future, which makes it even more delightfully chaotic!. All of that spinning down into a single thread, newly-impossible futures being discarded one by one until the only thing left is the ever-changing now.” He shrugged. “It’s oodles of fun, but it gives me a doozy of a headache.”

Pinkie hated to admit it, but she was impressed. “Wow…”

“When I broke free last time, I made the best decisions that I could to end up in the best possible future for me.” He grinned. “Things don’t always turn out like I plan, though.”

“Becoming a lawn ornament, you mean?”

“Indeed!” Discord clapped, and his chair and outfit disappeared with a flash and bang. “See? I told you that you and I are alike! Not many ponies would get that as easily as you did!”

Pinkie didn’t smile. She knew when she was being buttered up. “I told you already, we’re nothing alike.”

“Oh, come on, Pinks! You hit me in the face with a pie! Me! Name one other pony that could have pulled that off!” He frowned down at her. “What’s up with that, by the way?”

“I have distractions set up all around town, in case of a boring conversation emergency.”

“See?” Discord gestured at her with both hands. “That’s what I mean! We both love being weird and random!”

“That’s true,” Pinkie replied, frowning. “But I like to do weird, random things around other ponies to make them laugh. You like to do weird, random things to other ponies, to make yourself laugh. It’s not the same, not at all.”

Discord waved dismissively with his eagle’s claw. “Ah, who cares? So I introduce some chaos to brighten up some pony’s already miserable life. At least I get a laugh out of it!”

Pinkie took a deep breath to calm herself. Some instinct was telling her that this was important, the most important lesson that she, herself, could teach Discord. She had to get the words right.

“You think you’re having fun,” she said slowly. “And, maybe you are. You sure seem like you are, most of the time. When you’re not being all angry and impatient, at least. But a laugh is always better when it’s shared with friends.”

Discord snorted, folding his arms across his chest again. “Oh, come on, now. Really?”

Pinkie grinned. “Yup! I’ve never laughed harder or longer than I have with my friends. That’s the best laughter there is.”

“But you don’t want to be my friend,” Discord replied, pouting.

“I’m willing to try,” Pinkie replied, surprising herself. “But there’s something you need to do, first.”

“What’s that? You want a bribe? Bits? Concert tickets? A return of the chocolate-raining cotton-candy clouds?”

“Oooh…” Pinkie blinked, then shook her head. “No! I mean, yes, but that’s not what I meant. You have to apologize for what you did to me and my friends.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Discord straightened himself up, holding out a bouquet of fake flowers while he cleared his throat. “Pinkie, I—”

“No!” Pinkie stomped a hoof. “You can’t just say the words, you have to mean them! And you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”

He hesitated for a moment, frowning down at her. “I’m assuming that it’s for what I did to you and your friends when I last broke free, yes?”

“That’s part of it, but it’s not all of it.”

Discord scowled like a thunderhead, tossing the flowers away. “You’re not making this easy.”

If you were a better person, it would be easy, Pinkie thought. She congratulated herself on being wise enough not to actually come out and say it, though. Instead, she said, “It’s not always easy making friends.”

“Quite the contrary. Making friends has always come quite easily to me.” Light flashed as he snapped his talons. “See?”

Pinkie was about to ask him what he meant, but a stirring on her back made her words choke in her throat. Slowly, she turned her head to look at her all-but-forgotten passenger. Mister Hugglebunny straightened up from his perpetual slouch, blinking his black button eyes at her.

“Pinkie Pie?” the animated plush animal said in his familiar mournful voice.

“Mister Hugglebunny?!”

The plush rabbit held up a fuzzy paw in front of his black button eyes. “I seem to have acquired new hardware.” His mouth, a cute little ‘w’ made of stitching, didn’t move when he spoke. Instead, the sound just radiated out of the air where his mouth was. “I’m not sure that the driver was properly signed.”

Pinkie’s head whipped around, staring wide-eyed at the grinning draconequus in front of her. “What did you do?!”

“Made a friend for you. Don’t you like it?” Discord shrugged. “Oh, well. It’s not like this enchantment is going to last for long, anyway.”

A chill crept up Pinkie’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Discord put a sharp-looking grin on his muzzle. “Unlike boring old pony magic, chaos magic isn’t what you’d call stable. The only consistency it has is how wonderfully inconsistent it is! I’d say, all things considered…” He eyed the plush rabbit while stroking his scraggly beard. “This particular enchantment will last a day. Maybe two.

A wave of chill horror swept through Pinkie’s entire body. “You made him alive, but it’s only temporary?” she asked, her voice numb and hollow.

Discord gave her a puzzled frown. “All life is temporary. Isn’t it?”

Pinkie stared at Discord, stunned, for what felt like a significant fraction of eternity. Then she turned and ran away, leaving Discord behind. She was mildly surprised that he didn’t try to follow her.

Ponyville flew by in a pastel-colored blur as she ran like she’d never ran before, her legs flashing as she dodged around obstacles and ponies alike. She heard protests from startled ponies as she ran past them, but paid them no mind. Her only thought was to get to the library as fast as possible.

Pinkie Pie was a mare of simple beliefs, and right now those beliefs were telling her that Twilight Sparkle could fix this.

She just had to.

The door to the Golden Oaks library practically exploded open, startling Twilight so much that she very nearly dropped the book she was in the process of reshelving. She glowered over at the door and the pony in it, ready to unleash a scolding that would be both epic and scalding in nature, when she noted that the pony inquestion was a wide-eyed and visibly distraught Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie?” she asked, moving cautiously towards her friend. “What’s wrong?”

“Twilight! Oh, thank goodness.” Pinkie rushing forward. “I was walking through town and planning a party—you know, because everypony is all upset and nervous because of Discord—when you-know-who himself showed up and started pestering me, so I hit him in the face with a pie and ran away, and then he made Mister Hugglebunny alive!”

Twilight blinked at the flood of information. “What?”

Pinkie took a deep breath. “Twilight! Oh, thank goodness. I was walking through town—”

“No, no, I mean…” Twilight shook her head, trying to refocus. “What’s this about Discord? He did something to your tablet?”

“Mister Hugglebunny, yeah.” Pinkie sniffled, and Twilight was alarmed to see that there were tears welling up in her friend’s eyes. “He made him alive but it’s not forever.”

Still not quite understanding—how could an inanimate object be alive?—Pinkie’s obvious anxiety left Twilight feeling a little shaken.

“Come and sit down,” Twilight said. “Whatever’s wrong, I know we can figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Pinkie said as she shuffled past her.

As she walked past, Twilight turned a critical eye on the large, grey plush rabbit on Pinkie’s back. The rabbit’s head slowly turned towards her of its own accord, black button eyes blinking slowly at her.

“Hello,” Mister Hugglebunny said in his doleful voice.

“Erk…” Twilight replied, shrinking back. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said as she removed the rabbit from her back and sat down on the couch. “Discord did something to him. I don’t know what, but I know you can help me.”

“Uh, I’ll do my best,” Twilight said, staring at the plush rabbit out of the corner of her eye. “We should really get Erin over here. If I’m the local expert on magic, she’s the local expert on human technology.”

Pinkie nodded. “Mister Hugglebunny? Could you send one of those text message things to Sunflower?”

Mister Hugglebunny straightened up and let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. “Of course I can, Pinkie Pie. What would you like it to say?”

“Hmm… How about ‘come to the library right away, it’s an emergency’.”

Large, floppy rabbit ears twitched on top of Mister Hugglebunny’s head. “Message sent, Pinkie.” He returned to his regular slouch, his ears drooping over his face.

“Thanks.”

“Fascinating,” Twilight murmured, walking around in order to study the rabbit from multiple angles. “Completely fascinating. Combining magic and computer technology. I always thought this would have so many potential applications that—” She caught Pinkie’s look and cleared her throat. “—that aren’t at all important right now. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Twilight sat down next to Pinkie on the lone, small sofa in the library’s reading area. Once settled, Pinkie began filling her in on what had happened after the three of them had gone their separate ways. At the mention of a party, Twilight gave a thoughtful nod. Trust Pinkie to think of the morale of the town. It was something Twilight hadn’t even considered.

At one point during the recitation, Twilight held up her hoof. “Wait, wait. You were serious about hitting Discord in the face with a pie?”

“Yup!” Pinkie grinned. “Banana cream.”

Twilight considered that for a long moment before rendering her verdict. “Nice.”

“I know, right?” Pinkie grinned for a moment before her expression turned serious again. “But then he turned Mister Hugglebunny alive.”

“Pinkie,” Twilight started, trying to make her voice as gentle as she could. “I know you’ve always acted like Mister Hugglebunny is alive, but Erin explained how computers work. You know he really can’t be, don’t you?”

Pinkie shook her head with a sigh. “I suppose it’s my own fault everypony thinks I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Pretending is fun.” She looked up at Twilight, her expression earnest. “I know he wasn’t alive, but now I’m not so sure.” She pressed her lips together as tears welled up in her eyes. “And Discord said it would only last for a day or two.”

Twilight put on a reassuring grin and patted her friend on the shoulder. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about it,” she said. “If anything, this is probably something like a chaos-based Come-to-Life spell. It can’t make something alive.”

Pinkie Pie blinked at her. “But it’s got ‘come to life’ right in the name.”

“Well, yes, true, but it doesn’t actually make things alive. It just animates them. Like, remember when I told you about how I cast the spell on that plow during Winter Wrap-up?”

“Yes... “ Pinkie replied slowly. “But that was a wagon. Mister Hugglebunny is different.”

“Well, you see, when you get right down to it—”

“Twilight.”

“Yes, Pinkie?”

“Could the wagon talk?”

Twilight blinked a few times. “No?”

“Then it’s different.”

“Well, I admit that these computers can seem like they’re self-aware, but that’s not the same as being sapient.”

“But are you sure?” Pinkie asked, leaning forward and staring intently into her eyes. “If we just let the magic wear out…” She shook her head. “Can you be absolutely, completely, one-hundred-and-fifty-percent sure?”

“Well, no, because percentages—”

“Then we have to figure out how to keep him animated.” Pinkie hugged the rabbit to her chest again. “If we can’t know for sure, then we have to take care of him.”

Arguments started lining up in Twilight’s mind, not the least of which was a firm denial of even the possibility of Discord creating sapient life. They all died on her tongue in the face of Pinkie’s resolute expression.

“Well, okay,” she said instead. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Pinkie’s answering grin was electric and joyful. “Oh, thank you, Twilight!” She set Mister Hugglebunny down on the couch and gave Twilight a big hug. “Mister Hugglebunny, Twilight’s going to help you! Isn’t that great?”

Twilight barely managed to suppress a shiver as the rabbit blinked up at her. “Thank you, I guess,” Mister Hugglebunny said.

“Uh… You’re welcome?” Slightly creeped out, Twilight managed to pull herself from Pinkie’s hug. “Why don’t you… uh… I’ll go get some lemonade. Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”

“Okie dokie,” Pinkie said as she slumped down onto the couch.

Getting drinks and a snack was as good an excuse to compose herself as any. And it just so happened that there was a pitcher of lemonade in the refrigerator, squeezed fresh just that morning. Twilight took it out, along with two glasses. After a moment of consideration, she added a third glass, in case Erin showed up, and then took some time to consider potential snacks.

Raw vegetables were typically preferred during the mid-day, at least as far as Twilight was concerned. As much as she liked the pastries she knew that Pinkie would probably prefer, some ponies had to watch what they ate in order to maintain a trim figure. Still, as… acceptable as raw veggies could be, Pinkie was obviously distraught. Perhaps something tastier was in order?

Twilight finally settled on sliced cheese and savory crackers, arranging them just so on the tray. At the last minute, Twilight added a few carrot and celery sticks, because she didn’t have access to a calorie-defying metabolism.

By the time she made it back out to the sitting room, Pinkie looked much improved. Mister Hugglebunny was seated on the couch next to her, still looking around while blinking his little black button eyes. Twilight ignored him and set the tray with the snacks down on the coffee table, pouring both Pinkie and herself a drink just as the library door sprang open once again.

“I got your text,” Erin said as she walked in. She was breathing heavily, obviously having run here.

“Hiya, Sunflower!” Pinkie said, bouncing over to hug the other mare.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Erin said, hugging her back. “So what’s up? I was just wrapping up my first wing therapy…” She trailed off, staring at the large stuffed rabbit on the couch, who raised a paw and offered up a slow wave.

“Hello,” Mister Hugglebunny said.

Erin blinked. She stared open-mouthed at the rabbit, then at Pinkie, then at Twilight, before finally returning her shocked gaze to the rabbit. “What the hell?”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Discord did it.”

The confusion on Erin’s face was washed away by a look of comprehension. “Ah,” she said. “Some sort of illusion, or something?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not exactly. I think it’s a variant of a high-order animation spell, commonly referred to as a ‘Come-to-Life’ spell.”

“Oh. Wow.” Erin sat down heavily on the floor. “Magic can do that, huh?”

“Oh, easily,” Twilight said as Pinkie disengaged from Erin and made her way over to the snacks on the table. “It’s not always permanent, though.”

“Okay,” Erin said, frowning at the plush rabbit. “So, how can I help?”

Twilight didn’t get a chance to answer as Pinkie, spraying a mouthful of cracker crumbs, blurted out, “You need to prove he’s alive so we have a reason to keep the magic going!”

Erin shot Twilight a doubtful look. “Uh, Pinkie, I explained about AI when I gave you the tablet, remember?”

“He’s different, now,” Pinkie said. She sat down on the floor, crossing her forelegs across her chest and giving them both a defiant glare. “I know. I can tell. He’s different.”

Erin looked doubtful. Twilight cleared her throat, getting the attention of the other two mares. “Isn’t there some way you can test? I mean, we each have our tablets, we can check to see if Mister Hugglebunny acts unusual in any way.”

“I suppose…” Erin said, rubbing a hoof on her chin. “There’s also something called a Turing test. It was proposed a long time ago as a test to determine if we’ve got an AI capable of passing as sapient. I don’t recall if there were specific questions to ask, but I can ask him something else.”

“Oh, thank you!” Pinkie cried out. She hugged Erin again, who chuckled weakly and patted her on the back. “I knew you could prove he was alive!”

“That’s not—” Erin started, then cut herself off. “I mean, that’s no problem, Pinkie.” She looked over at Mister Hugglebunny, who was looking at her blankly. “So, uh, I guess I can ask Mister Hugglebunny—”

“Access/authority not recognized,” Mister Hugglebunny interrupted. “You are not Pinkie Pie.”

“It’s alright,” Pinkie said. “Go ahead and answer any questions Sunflower has, okay?”

“Okay, Pinkie,” Mister Hugglebunny replied. He looked up at Erin. “Ask your questions, Sunflower.”

Erin’s eyes widened and she took a step back.

Twilight frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“That… that shouldn’t be possible,” Erin said, her voice shaky.

“What?” Twilight looked at the plush rabbit and then back to Erin. “You mean taking instructions from Pinkie? He does that all the time.” Twilight frowned, suddenly uncertain. “Er, doesn’t he?”

“Not like this,” Erin replied, looking worried. “His security doesn’t work that way, and he shouldn’t have been able to just recognize me like that.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked. “It’s not like what she asked him to do is all that complicated.”

“Mister Hugglebunny is pretty smart,” Pinkie piped in.

“It’s not a question of smart or not, it’s about dealing with real-word context,” Erin replied. “I mean, the system running on the tablet is actually pretty limited in what it can do in the real world, and facial recognition doesn’t work on ponies, yet.”

Twilight frowned down at the rabbit. “Wait. You’re not saying he’s actually—”

There was a flash of incandescent light. “A bouncing baby bunny bundle of joy!” Discord shouted gleefully as he hovered up near the ceiling.

“Discord!” Twilight stomped a hoof. “I didn’t invite you here!”

“You didn’t forbid me from entering, either,” Discord pointed out. “Besides, it’s not every day a draconequus becomes a father!” He snapped his talons, and baby-blue T-shirts with white lettering appeared on everyone in the room. Twilight looked down at hers, reading it upside-down.

Congratulations, it’s a bunny! the shirt read.

“Oh, I couldn’t be more proud!” Discord crowed while shoving a cigar into her mouth. She spat it out, but he’d already moved on to Erin, who had her foreleg up to block her mouth. He tucked the cigar behind her ear, instead. “I’m a daddy!”

“You’re not his daddy!” Pinkie shouted.

Discord stopped, looking at her. “Well, so much for teaching the little scamp how to play ball, then.” His shoulders slumped and he let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I guess I should be going, then. Though, I suppose…”

Twilight didn’t buy the thoughtful look on Discord’s face for one second. “What?”

“Well, it seems to me like you’ll need someone to renew the magic on the little fella whenever it’s about to run out,” Discord said. He reached out and ruffled Mr. Hugglebunny’s ears with his lion’s paw.

“Please stop that,” Mister Hugglebunny said. Discord rolled his eyes and took his paw away.

Realization hit Twilight like a runaway cart. “That’s why you did this,” she said, her voice rising along with the anger she felt.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Twilight,” Discord replied, his innocent tone clashing with the smug self-satisfaction oozing through every syllable. “After all, I was just trying to do something nice for my new good friend Pinkie Pie. How was I to know she wouldn’t like it?”

He grinned at them, and Twilight felt her heart thud sharply in her chest.

“Of course, there is the little matter of my probation,” he said. “I’m in danger of having the Elements of Harmony unleashed on me at any moment!” He reclined in mid air, crossing his legs at the knee and folding his arms behind his head. “I’m not worried for myself, of course. But I’d be horrified, simply horrified, if I weren’t around to renew the enchantment on my dear friend, little… er… whatever-his-name-is.”

He flipped around, floating in mid-air on his stomach, grin still in place and his eyes sparkling. “Face it, ladies. You’re stuck with me.”

Chapter 22: New Friends

Pinkie was engaged in an energetic conversation with the freshly-animated Mister Hugglebunny near the library’s small sofa. Or, to be more accurate, she was speaking energetically while the plush rabbit occasionally responded in a dour monotone. Discord had disappeared in a flash a few minutes earlier after claiming that he had to go to pop some popcorn.

Erin stood across the library floor, watching Pinkie and her new “friend” while chewing worriedly on her bottom lip. Next to her, Twilight was making a show of re-shelving books, though she was mostly just staring at the titles with a distant look on her face.

“So, what do we do about this?” Erin asked softly.

Twilight glanced over at her, adjusting the Element of Magic with a hoof as the tiara slipped slightly forward on her head. “What can we do?” she asked, just as softly. “It’s a trap, and it’s one I never saw coming. I could just dispel the magic, but I think that might break Pinkie’s heart, and I’m not willing to do that. And… Are you sure he’s not conscious?”

“Honestly? No. You’d need to ask a computer scientist. Or maybe a philosopher.” Erin let out a wry chuckle. “I never thought the AI Singularity would come in the form of a plush, magical bunny.”

“The what, now?”

“Nevermind,” Erin said. “A joke in poor taste. But I personally don’t know of any way to test for actual consciousness. Maybe if we talked to some computer experts from back home…”

“What about that Turing test you mentioned, though?”

“That test is only to see if an artificial intelligence can exhibit human-like behavior, which chat programs have been able to do for decades. It can’t tell me if Mister Hugglebunny is actually self-aware or not.” Erin grimaced. “I really wish Pinkie had picked a shorter name for him.”

Twilight managed a smile at that. “Yeah, it really is a mouthful. Maybe we can come up with a nickname for him.” The pensive look returned to her face and she sighed. “Well, if nothing else, Princess Celestia needs to know about this. Discord has seriously managed to hamper our ability to use the Elements against him.”

“No he didn’t,” Pinkie said suddenly from right next to them, causing them both to jump and Twilight to let out a little scream.

“Pinkie!” Erin gasped as she brought a hoof up to her chest, where her heart was beating fit to burst. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Gross!” Pinkie said cheerfully. “Also, I heard what you said.”

Twilight, obviously annoyed at Pinkie’s appearance but trying not to show it, managed to ask, “And what are your thoughts?”

“Well, ‘Huggs’ is an option,” Pinkie said thoughtfully while gesturing at the stuffed rabbit, who was still seated on the library’s small couch. “Or maybe ‘Mister H’. Or we could go with ‘The Right Honorable Master Huggle Bunnington the Third’, though that’s a bit long for a nickname.”

Erin blinked a few times while Twilight’s face froze in confusion for a few seconds.

“I didn’t mean the nicknames,” Twilight said after a moment. “I meant about Discord.”

“Why ‘the Third’?” Erin asked.

“Not important right now,” Twilight pointed out.

“Sorry.”

“I meant that I know what he’s doing, and I’m not going to let him get away with it,” Pinkie said with a sad little smile. Her ears perked up and her smile turned a little more genuine as she added, “Plus, I know Twilight’s going to figure out something!”

“Uh…” Twilight took a step back, her eyes flicking to Hugglebunny and then back to Pinkie. “Of course I’m going to do my best, but chaos magic is… well, it’s chaotic. And not very well understood. I have no idea how it works!”

Pinkie shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re Twilight Sparkle. That means you’ll always do your best. And when it comes to magic, there’s nopony better!”

“Oh, well,” Twilight said with a blush. “There’s the Arcanum. Not to mention the Princesses. But I was planning on writing to Princess Celestia about this anyway, and I’m sure she would be happy to help!”

“See?” Pinkie gave a little hop while beaming out a radiant smile. “You’re already coming up with ideas on what to do!”

“Well, of course!” Twilight replied, returning the smile with one of her own. “You’re one of my best friends! I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy. But, Pinkie... “ Her ears drooped and she asked in a soft, reluctant tone, “What if we can’t make it permanent? What if Discord uses that to go out and do bad things?”

Erin’s heart broke a little as Pinkie wilted like a flower during a drought. But then the pink mare straightened up with a look of determination that Erin wasn’t used to seeing in her eyes.

“Then we stop him,” Pinkie said, her voice firm. “Discord is already holding my newest friend hostage. If he puts any of my other friends in danger, then we stop him.” She smiled, then. “Girls?”

“Yes, Pinkie?” Twilight said.

“I could use a hug about now.”

Twilight rushed in, throwing her forelegs around Pinkie’s neck, with Erin just a half-step behind her. They held each other for a few long moments, with Pinkie trembling against Erin’s chest. They broke eventually, with Pinkie rubbing a foreleg across her damp eyes.

“I guess I should get going,” Pinkie said. “I think I’d like to be alone for a while.”

"That should be okay, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “Discord said we have at least a day, maybe longer. Plus, he’s got to know he’s on thin ice after this stunt, so I doubt he’s going to let his chaos magic wear off any time soon. We’ll take tonight to think of a bunch of things to try, and come at the problem fresh in the morning once we’ve all had a chance to rest and clear our minds.”

Pinkie’s smile looked almost like her normal one. “Thanks, Twilight! You go do your thinkie-thing, and I’ll go do my Pinkie-thing.” She walked over and scooped up Mister Hugglebunny from his seat and placed him on her back. “Bye, Twilight! Bye, Sunflower! Let’s head home, Huggsy-B.”

“That is not my name,” Mister Hugglebunny protested as Pinkie walked out of the front door.

“I’m worried about her,” Twilight said quietly after the door closed.

“Me, too,” Erin admitted. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

“She’s Pinkie. Trust me, if there’s anything Pinkie is good at, it’s bouncing back. She’ll be fine. It's up to us to be there to make sure she’s fine. But right now, I think she just needs to work through some things in her head.”

“Makes sense,” Erin said. “I suppose I should get going, too. I wanted to get some take-out for dinner. Enough for two, in case Fluttershy is still at my place.”

“Good idea, but you’re not leaving quite yet.”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

Twilight turned to fully face her, a serious look on her muzzle. “Magic. I’ve been meaning to help you with it, but…” Her ears drooped. “I know I’ve had reasons, but I feel like I’ve been a bad friend.”

“Oh, no, you—”

“So!” Twilight said with a bright smile, cutting her off. “I’m going to monitor you as you try to use the horn-glow cantrip to see if I can figure out what’s going wrong!”

Erin glanced at the door, wondering briefly if Twilight would fall for the old “look over there!” trick so she could bolt. She sighed, realizing that the unicorn would probably just teleport after her and use her telekinesis to drag her back into the library.

“Didn’t you say your old professor was coming out tomorrow to give me a once-over?” Erin asked. “Maybe we could wait until then.”

Twilight had started shaking her head before Erin was even halfway through her last sentence. “No time like the present. Come on, what are you afraid of? It’s just a little cantrip.”

“You call it the ‘horn-glow cantrip’,” Erin muttered. “I call it the ‘give me a headache’ spell.”

“Well, that shouldn't be the case if you do it right,” Twilight said cheerfully. “Besides, I could always brew up some willow-bark tea later if your head hurts.”

Twilight’s beaming face was almost enough to make Erin cringe. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope!” Twilight said with a happy grin. “Besides, it would be nice to work on a problem I actually know something about, for a change!”

“Fine,” Erin said after a heavy sigh. “So, take it from the top?”

“Where else? Remember, reach deep within yourself and imagine your magic moving up into your horn.”

“I try it, but nothing ever seems to happen."

“Maybe it will be different this time,” Twilight replied.

“So, what, magic is an energy that exists inside a pony?”

“Both inside and outside,” Twilight said. “Magic permeates everything in Equestria, and some of it will reside in a stable field inside of individual creatures. Most ponies only ever use their personal field for things like levitation and the like. But more complicated spells require the use of magic from outside of the pony using it.”

“Like teleportation?” Erin asked, recalling the one time Twilight had used that spell with her. She’d been dizzy and disoriented, but it had been one heck of a rush.

“Oh, yes. You use your personal field to gather in energy from Equestria’s field, and you also link the two locations together via spell-circles in order to travel between them.”

“You’ve mentioned spell circles before, but you’ve never actually explained them.”

“A spell circle is a logical arrangement of glyphs, wards, runes and lines, arranged in a pattern. Which, in spite of the name, isn’t always a circle. Though it does typically have to complete a circuit. And none of this actually pertains to the matter at hoof, which means you’re dithering instead of concentrating on what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“Fine, fine,” Erin grumbled, closing her eyes. Just like the book had said, she imagined gathering up the energy in her body on every inhale, and pushing it up into her horn on every exhale. Oddly enough, she wasn’t getting any sensation of pain this time. “Is it working?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“I don’t know,” Twilight said in a smug tone. “You tell me.”

Erin cracked her left eye opened, then gasped, opening both eyes wide. She crossed her eyes and looked up at her horn, which was pulsing with a soft, pine-green glow, the same color as her eyes. The moment she realized this, the light flickered and went out.

“Was that me?” she asked, disbelieving. Her heart began speeding up, and a grin stretched its way across her muzzle. “Was that really me?”

“It was!” Twilight grinned and hugged her around the neck. Dazed, Erin patted her on the back with a dopey smile on her face. “That was perfect! And a pretty strong aura, too!”

“It was?”

“Oh, yes!” Twilight said, breaking away, though she still had a huge smile on her face. “Not that you can always judge a pony’s strength by the brightness of their aura, but it looks like you’ll at least be average!”

“Cool! Oh, that was so…” Erin trailed off, her joy fading as she felt a chill run up her spine. “This was easy. I tried so hard before, and nothing happened but headaches.”

“Well, what did you do differently this time?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Well, that’s not…” Twilight trailed off at the same time. “Oh, no. You think…”

“Discord. Do you think he did something? Something the exam missed?”

Twilight’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “Well. I’m sure Professor Glimmer can tell us if he did.”

“Or you could just ask me,” Discord said. Erin jumped, startled. She turned to see the chaos spirit lounging on the couch recently vacated by Mister Hugglebunny, a tub of popcorn balanced on his belly while he watched them. “Nice light show, and you’re welcome.”

“‘You’re welcome’?” Erin repeated, outraged. “What did you do to me?!”

“Discord, you’d better come clean, and I mean right now,” Twilight said with a glare, her ears pinned back on her head.

“Or what?” Discord scoffed and tossed another clawful of popcorn into his face. “You’ll use the Elements on me?”

“If we have to,” Twilight said.

“Oh, but what about poor Pinkie Pie?” he drawled. “She’ll lose her friend—”

Twilight drew her head up and gave Discord a chilly smile. “She’s already agreed to use her Element if necessary.”

Discord blinked, sitting up and spilling popcorn all over the library floor. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Erin said, walking forward. Twilight joined her, and together the pair approached the spirit. “I’m surprised you didn’t see that with that ‘time sight’ of yours.”

“Oh, well, I wasn’t watching, of course,” Discord said quickly as he scooted back away from the pair of them. “You really aren’t all that interesting, you know.”

“Well, she said she’d use the Elements if she found out you were messing around with her friends,” Twilight said. “I would say that messing with Erin’s personal magical field counts.”

“Now, now, hold on, let’s not be rash,” Discord said, waving his hands in the air in front of him. “I didn’t hurt her, I swear! I was trying to be nice to a fellow freak!”

“Freak?!” Erin shouted, incensed. She started forward, only to be barred by Twilight’s foreleg across her chest.

“Explain,” Twilight said in a flat monotone. “Now.”

Discord sighed. “Okay, fine. Time to 'come clean', as you say. Whatever her people did, it turned her personal magical field into something akin to a giant ball of yarn after a cat got into it.”

He snapped his talons, causing an enormous ball of purple yarn to appear out of nowhere. The ball unspooled, forming a tangled mass on the floor. Erin scowled and backed up as the yarn started tangling itself around her hooves. Twilight simply sighed, rolled her eyes and ignored the mess.

“As fun as that was to watch,” Discord continued, “eventually constant failure just gets boring. Changing her to human and back simply… wound her back up, for lack of a better term. But I really didn’t change anything at all!”

“You rebooted me?” Erin asked, stunned, shaking a foreleg to free it from the yarn.

“Lies and slander!” Discord protested. “You weren’t even wearing boots. In any case, is it really so hard to believe I was honestly trying to help you?”

Twilight snorted. “Help her? Yeah, right, not buying it. You never do anything to help a pony out. Not unless it’s to help you out, too!”

Discord cleared his throat and managed to look uncomfortable. “Well, I may have had a teensy-tiny little feeling that her being able to use magic was somehow vital to my own well-being. But I assure you, I mainly did it to be nice! Why, I even left her with her fake cutie mark!”

Erin shot a quick, confused glance at Twilight. “Fake cutie mark?”

Twilight grimaced. “Well… You didn’t receive a mark the same way most ponies do. Yours is essentially an artificial pattern in your coat.”

Well, that wasn’t the best news. “Do you think I’ll ever get a real one?”

“Well, I know,” Discord said, buffing his talons against his chest. “But I’m not saying.”

Twilight glared at him before turning back to Erin. “I’m not sure. Cutie marks always happen during a pony’s formative years, but you’re well beyond that. It may be that you never get an actual mark.”

“Which is why I left it, even though it would have been hi-larious watching her bumble around without one,” Discord said, grinning.

“Alright, Discord,” Twilight said, glowering at the draconequus. “Enough games. I want you to take me through what you did to her, exactly, step by step.”

“Oh, deary me, would you look at the time!” Discord said, looking at his bare wrist. “I simply must be going. Ta-ta!”

He disappeared in a puff of putrid purple smoke that set the two of them coughing.

“I swear,” Twilight said, waving her foreleg in front of her face in a vain attempt to clear the air, “he just gets worse every time I talk to him. At least all that yarn is gone, too.”

Erin stared off into space for a moment before she started walking to the door. Her thoughts were a disorganized jumble of worry, frustration and anger, skittering off in different directions every time she tried to focus. “I need to clear my head,” she said. “I’m going for a run.”

“But what about magic training?”

“I’m a little nervous about using it before I have a chance to be checked out by that professor of yours. Who knows what he did? I want to make sure my head won’t explode, or something.”

“Your head won’t explode, Erin. I may not be Professor Glimmer, but I’m pretty sure about that.”

It was tempting, Erin had to admit as she reached the door. “Maybe after dinner? I really do need some time to get my head together, and I’m hungry.”

“Alright,” Twilight said with a decisive nod. “We get dinner, I’ll go with you to check on Fluttershy, and then we come back and start with magic practice.” A sour grimace crossed her features. “Provided that no other disasters crop up, of course. This being Ponyville, that’s a very real possibility.”

That statement brought out a chuckle in Erin. “Yeah. We seem to have lots of interesting times, here.”

“That we do,” Twilight said, joining her at the door. “That we do.”

There were other places for her to be at that moment. No doubt there was currently a small army of paper-wielding administrators roaming the hallways who were, at that very moment, setting up a search pattern in order to find their wayward princess. There was also the daily troop inspection, and a meeting with a human ambassador from a place called Germany; the former she had simply put off for the moment, and the latter she had rescheduled.

Instead, Luna found herself in Celestia’s sitting room, watching as Professor Moonlight Glimmer performed a series of tests on a restless and squirming Prince Verdant. The albino mare’s horn glowed a delicate shade of blue as she worked, her field tickling over the young colt as Celestia lay on her belly on the floor, holding him between her forelegs as she spoke in low tones to try and keep him more or less still.

After a few minutes had passed, Professor Glimmer sighed and let the light extinguish itself from her horn. She opened up her light pink eyes and offered Celestia a warm smile. “He’s perfectly fine, I can assure you.”

“You are certain?” Celestia asked, standing up and releasing the young prince, who immediately ran off to one corner of the room in order to play with some toys. “I was expecting some magic surges by now.”

“Not all unicorn foals go through magic surges,” Professor Glimmer pointed out. “My daughter didn’t, and she turned out to be pretty adept at magic.”

“I told you so, sister,” Luna said, chuckling at the brief but intense glare that Celestia shot her way. “Both your examination and my own have come to the same conclusion. Will this third opinion finally put your fears to rest?”

“It helps,” Celestia admitted. “However, Verdant isn’t the only pony to have a body provided by the humans’ Ascent process.”

“You’re referring to Erin Sunflower, of course,” Professor Glimmer replied. She grinned, a hungry look coming into her eye. “Oh, I can’t wait to get my hooves on her! I’m on my way to Ponyville to examine her next, you know.”

“You’ve only mentioned it several times,” Luna pointed out dryly. She helped herself to one of the scones that Celestia had set out with the tea.

“You understand my concern, though,” Celestia said, glancing over at Verdant. “According to Twilight’s reports, Erin hasn’t been able to cast unicorn magic at all, though she seems to be able to use at least some pegasus magic. I’m worried that Verdant’s growth will be stunted.”

Moonlight Glimmer shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry. He’s fine, I’m certain of it. As far as Erin goes… Well, from what I understand, the humans made some major modifications to her form, most of which don’t apply to Verdant. The original template was male, for example.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Celestia said, obviously not quite ready to give up on her fears yet.

“Well, there’s not much we can do, regardless,” Luna said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “Of course we’ll keep an eye on him and take whatever steps we can if they are needed. But for now, we should simply allow him to grow normally.”

Celestia looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t get the chance.

“By the by, as long as we’re talking about humans,” Professor Glimmer said, cutting off the impending argument apparently without even realizing it, “I’ve discovered something quite interesting.”

“Oh?” Luna said, gladly latching onto the change of subjects. “Please, do go on.”

“Well, there’s quite a few of them in Canterlot, as you know.”

“We’re aware, yes,” Celestia said. “There are just over a hundred, according to the latest reports.”

“They’ve begun renting apartments in the city proper,” Luna said. “Ambassadorial staff and research teams, for the most part. They’re studying everything from our history to our weather.”

“And our culture,” Celestia added, trying to get the last word in like she always did.

“And our economy,” Luna put in, not willing to let her have it. “Not to mention failing to discover anything at all about magic.”

“Well, maybe not failing for much longer,” Professor Glimmer said, grinning. “I’ve studied dozens of them, and I can now confirm that it’s not a fluke: some humans are starting to integrate into Equestria’s magical field.”

Now, that was unexpected. “Truly?” Luna asked.

“Oh, yes!” the professor replied. She began pacing, her voice picking up in both speed and volume as she spoke. “It’s far too tenuous to tell what form their magic will eventually take, of course. And it’s not all of them, though I haven’t discovered any significant biological differences between those gaining magic and those who don’t. But I believe the process is just starting, and may get stronger. We could have fully magical humans in Equestria within a few years!”

Professor Glimmer stopped her pacing and beamed a smile at them. “Every species on Equus has been part of the magical field for as long as we’ve ever known. We’ve never had a chance to examine a species develop magic as it happened. Can you imagine what we might learn?” She began hopping in place. “Oh, this is so exciting!”

It was… disconcerting, for lack of a better word, to see a mare of Moonlight Glimmer’s age and size bouncing up and down like an excitable filly. Prince Verdant had stopped playing with his toys to gape at the giggling mare.

Princess Luna cleared her throat. “Yes. Well. Very exciting, I agree. We look forward to your reports on the subject, of course.”

“You’ll have them,” Professor Glimmer promised, finally ceasing her frivolous behavior. Though it looked like it would take a team of doctors several hours to remove the grin that was adhered to her muzzle. “I’ll be doing plenty of studying. After all, I’ve become very close to some of them.” She blushed, the red coming up startlingly bright on her pale coat. “One in particular,” she admitted.

Luna gaped at the mare, who had a look that could only be described as “proudly embarrassed”.

“Oh?” Celestia said, a small smile appearing on her own muzzle. “One of the humans has caught your eye?”

“His name is Dwight Robertson, and he’s also a biologist,” Moonlight Glimmer said. “He’s smart, funny and attentive. And, for a nearly-hairless ape, he’s fairly attractive.”

“Well, I’m very happy for you,” Celestia said, using a wing to hug the shorter mare to her side.

“What can I say?” Moonlight Glimmer said with a laugh. “I’ve always kind of had a thing for bipeds. Remember that minotaur I dated in college?”

Luna shook her head but refrained from saying anything. This was the new Equestria, she reminded herself. Interspecies romances were no longer unheard of. Though, personally, she couldn’t imagine being physically attracted to anything bipedal.

“Not to change the subject,” Luna said, though she was perfectly happy to do so, “but have you been in contact with the rest of the Arcanum, recently?”

“Not recently, no,” Professor Glimmer responded. “Has something come up?”

“I’ve been inviting various members to the castle for some time, now. The humans have finally finished building the Harmonics facility here in Canterlot, and I wanted the Arcanum’s input on how to stabilize the aperture and eliminate the need to allow the Veil to regenerate.” Luna let out a disaffected “hmph”. “One would think that the members of the leading institute of magical research in Equestria would be interested in such a thing.”

“Oh. Well, that type of research isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but I’d be more than happy to head out and visit a few of my colleagues after I return from Ponyville.” Professor Glimmer frowned and shook her head. “I can’t imagine why at least a few of them wouldn’t find the time to come out and help. I’m not aware of any major projects anypony may be working on at the moment.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. Between taking over more and more of Celestia’s daily tasks and training the Dreamguard, Luna’s patience had been fraying like a poorly-made rug. It was a welcome relief to find that at least one of the Arcanum was willing to work with her.

“My pleasure, Princess Luna.” Professor Glimmer looked over at the clock ticking away on a nearby wall. “Well, I suppose I should get going. I mean to catch an early train tomorrow morning, and I should turn in early. I’m not as young as I used to be, after all.”

“Farewell, Moonlight Glimmer,” Luna said. “Until we meet again.”

“Take care,” Celestia said, giving the mare another hug.

“See you soon.” Moonlight Glimmer gave a little wave and made for the door.

The two of them stood in silence for a few moments after she’d left, until Luna could no longer contain herself. “A minotaur? Was she serious?”

Celestia laughed, scooping up little Verdant in her magic in spite of his protests. “She was, indeed. It only lasted a few months, though.”

Luna sighed and slowly shook her head. Every time she thought she was adjusting to life a thousand years removed from what was familiar, something new popped up to surprise her. “‘Tis a strange world we live in, Cellie.”

“Discord?” Fluttershy paused in the doorway of her cottage, her ears rotating around on the top of her head. No lights were on, and there was no noise that she could make out. With a sigh, she removed her saddlebags, hanging them on a hook by the door before making her way inside.

Angel Bunny scampered between her legs, running into the center of her living room. He stopped, looking around with his little pink nose twitching. With no sign of Discord, Angel finally relaxed and jumped up on the sofa. He’d just curled up to lay down when one of the sofa cushions suddenly sprouted a yellow, red-irised eye and a grinning mouth. Before Fluttershy could protest, the pillow whispered “Boo!” into Angel’s ear.

Angel bolted, scrambling between Fluttershy’s forelegs before glaring defiantly back at Discord. With a sigh, Fluttershy stepped into her living room and sat down in front of the sofa. This next part was necessary, but it was going to be tricky.

“Discord,” she said, keeping her voice level. “We need to talk.”

“Who is this ‘Discord’ of whom you speak?” the pillow replied. “I am but a humble cushion, eagerly awaiting my chance to provide some small comfort to those posteriors who would recline here.”

“Please, Discord. It’s important.”

The pillow sighed, then disappeared in a flash of light. Discord, back in what could only be described as his normal form, leaned back on the sofa with an air of careless indolence. “I suppose I was tattled upon,” he said.

“You can’t expect us not to talk to each other, Discord.”

“Perhaps not, though it is rude to speak about someone behind their back.”

“As rude as changing somepony’s form against their will?” Fluttershy asked softly. “As rude as using chaos magic to play with Pinkie Pie’s emotions like you did?” She waited a moment before adding, “She’s really upset, you know. And worried. You did that to her.”

“I also gave her a new friend,” Discord replied irritably. “Why does everypony keep forgetting that?”

“Are you saying that you did it to be nice?” Fluttershy asked, making sure to keep her voice level and calm.

“Well, that was one reason, sure.”

“And what you did to Mister Hugglebunny,” Fluttershy said. “That was to manipulate us into not using the Elements against you.”

Discord snorted. “Eh, it was a long shot, anyway. But I did think Pinkie would like it.” He laughed, then. “And I thought it would be just hilarious watching other ponies react to him!”

Fluttershy nodded. “I see. And Erin?”

“Who?” Discord scratched at his chin for a moment before a light bulb suddenly popped into existence above his head. “Oh! Yes, the fake pony. I keep forgetting her name.”

“You changed something with her, Twilight said."

“I fixed her. There’s a difference.” He crossed his arms, scowling. “Not that anypony seems to appreciate that.”

“I see. We had this talk last night, remember?”

“Bleh. You mean you lectured me.” Discord rolled his eyes.

“Well… maybe a little,” Fluttershy admitted. “Asking for permission and respecting everyone else’s limits may not be fun, but it is really important. At least, it is if you want to get along with everypony.”

“This is all nonsense, anyway,” Discord grumbled, gesturing expansively.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep telling me how everything I do is wrong, that I’m the one who needs to change to protect all the precious little ponies’ feelings. But what about them adapting to me?” His eyes got all watery and his lip wobbled. “Aren’t my feelings important, too?”

Fluttershy recognized a ploy for sympathy when she saw it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t effective. “Of course they are!” she said. “But—”

“But I’m the one who has to be accommodating,” Discord interrupted. “Everything you tell me is ‘Discord, don’t do this’ and ‘Discord, don’t do that’, but no one else had to change anything for my sake.”

As much as she wanted to deny it, Fluttershy had to admit that he had a point. Well, except for one thing. “Except for me,” she reminded him. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed your company! But I have to admit, all the chaos takes some getting used to.”

“I suppose that’s true,” came Discord’s grudging admission.

“And you have to remember, you’re so much more powerful than anypony else. It's really scary for us when you do things like that, even if you have good intentions. You could really hurt us if you're not careful.”

“But what about my feelings, Fluttershy?” Discord’s eagle talon pressed up against his chest as he stared soulfully at her. “You don’t need my frankly-staggering amounts of chaos magic to hurt those.” He gave an outrageously fake sniffle. “Pinkie isn’t even going to invite me to her party.”

Fluttershy thought about that for a moment. “You know, you have a point.”

Discord blinked. “I do?”

“Yes. If we want you to be our friend, we need to try to include you.” More firmly, she added, “But that also means that, if you want to be our friend, you have to wait until you’re invited.”

“But Pinkie wasn’t going to invite me!” Discord let out a sour “humph” and crossed his arms across his chest. “I would have been waiting forever. I had enough of that as a statue in Celestia’s garden.”

“Then you can talk to her about it.”

“And if she still says no?”

Fluttershy offered up a smile. “Then we don’t go.”

“Wait, ‘we’?” He removed an ear from his head, inserted a talon into it and wiggled it around before popping it back into place. “Did I hear that correctly?”

Fluttershy nodded.

“You would actually avoid going to Pinkie’s party, just to keep me company?”

“I would.”

“Huh.” Discord stroked his goatee for a few seconds. “Well, I’ll consider it, I suppose.”

Fluttershy smiled, but it was an uncertain one. “Would you be willing to apologize?” she asked tentatively.

Discord’s eyebrow shot up so fast, she could swear she heard a miniature sonic boom. Or maybe he was just playing his chaos-magic tricks again. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well, um…” Fluttershy fidgeted, her ears drooping momentarily before she remembered that she was supposed to be projecting strength and authority at the moment. She straightened up and spoke firmly. “It’s just that, I think Pinkie would be more willing to let you go to the party if you apologized.”

“What have I ever done that required an apology?” Discord demanded, indignant.

Fluttershy blinked at him a few times. “Really?”

“Oh, you mean for the whole ‘reversing your personality’ thing,” Discord waved his paw dismissively. “Pshh… Water under the bridge, old news. Hardly relevant to the discussion.”

“You wanted something more recent?” Fluttershy asked, a small frown appearing on her muzzle. “Whatever it was you did to Erin? What you did to Pinkie’s friend Mister Hugglebunny?”

“I believe he goes by ‘Huggsy-B’, now,” Discord said. “And, besides, I did both of them a favor.”

“They don’t feel like you did them a favor,” she pointed out. “They feel like you used your magic to manipulate them, all without even asking for permission. And they’re right. That’s what you did.”

“Well!” Discord huffed. “I don’t have to stay here and take this.”

With a snap of his talons, he vanished in a flash of shimmering light. Fluttershy slumped with a sigh. After a moment, a familiar white shape snuggled up against her. She extended a wing and hugged Angel to her side.

“That could have gone better,” she said.

“Oh, you are just beautiful,” Raka said, her voice barely a breath above a whisper. She was looking intently into a plant that resembled a fern with thick, waxy leaves. Peering out of the plant were a pair of bright blue eyes positioned on either side of a delicate snout. There was no fear in those eyes, only a sort of wary curiosity. But, even so, the small dragon-like creature showed no interest in coming closer.

After a few minutes of Raka holding perfectly still, the dragonling—as the research group had unanimously dubbed the creatures—crept cautiously forward on the axis of one of the strange fern’s stalks. Raka held her breath as the dragonling stretched out its wings, the membrane a semi-translucent sea blue that matched the rest of its dark green-blue body. The thin neck stretched forward and it tilted its head one way and then the other as it looked at her.

The dragonling’s muzzle opened and it chirped out a little “wirruk?” noise.

Seemingly unable to help herself, Raka reached out, painfully slow, and extended a finger towards the dragonling. The diminutive creature—reptile, perhaps? Something else?—stretched its head out and sniffed. And then, much to Raka’s delight, it rubbed its head along her fingertip, rather like a cat might have.

Raka couldn’t have stopped grinning at that moment if her life depended on it. It was all worth it, she decided right then. The uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, the disturbing dreams, the lack of sleep that made her every waking minute drag with exhaustion, the constant feeling of being exposed when walking around the alien world, and whatever other surprises that may still be coming... All of it, completely worth it just for this moment.

It was the greatest moment of her life up until that then, and she was pretty sure it could never be topped. The dragonling proved that notion wrong when it unexpectedly launched itself into the air and circled Raka’s head three times before landing on her shoulder, its needle-sharp claws pricking her skin through her shirt. She winced as it scrambled a little, too big to really rest comfortably on her shoulder, and she knew she’d be bleeding from the scratches. It managed to situate itself, the wings knocking her in the head once as it folded them along its back, its lengthy tail dangling down her back.

She froze, unwilling to move as the dragonling examined the side of her head, her ears tickling at the little puffs of air as it sniffed at her. Then, much to her ecstatic, if restrained, joy, it let out another little “wirruk” and nestled up against her neck, seeming much satisfied with the world.

“It looks like you’ve got a new friend,” said a soft voice from about twenty feet away.

Very slowly, Raka turned to regard the armed security team member that had accompanied her. In a hoarse voice, she whispered, “If you do anything to scare this creature away, I will end you.”

The guard, a young man of Pakistani descent named Randal Satti, chuckled and shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, as long as it’s not attacking you.”

Raka sighed. She’d tried to make it as clear as she could over the last few days that she didn’t need or want an armed escort. But the security team didn’t listen, instead insisting that they keep to their stupid "buddy system" security protocols.

She returned her attention to where it should have been—the little dragonling curled up on her shoulder—and began making as many observations as she could while wishing that she dared to take out her tablet and start taking notes. She was too worried about upsetting the creature to try it, though.

From what she could tell as it rested on her shoulder, it weighed around seven pounds. This was a surprisingly heavy weight for a creature with a wingspan that she estimated at only twenty-four inches. From the tip of its snout to the end of its tail, she guessed that it measured roughly eighteen inches, give or take an inch or three.

It was warm, far warmer than even the humid air of the alien forest around her, indicating that it may be a warm-blooded creature. When it had walked around on her shoulder, she could feel that it had four claws on each forelimb, and at least three on the hind ones.

If only she had a picture… Actually, maybe her armed escort wasn’t so useless, after all.

“Hey,” Raka called out gently. “Take some pictures of it.”

“Sorry?” Randal asked.

“Put down your gun,” Raka explained with forced patience, “take out your camera, and take as many pictures of it as you can. Zoom in as much as possible.”

“Right,” he said.

As he shuffled around, trying to bring out his camera, the dragonling looked up at him and tilted its head. “Wirruk?” it said in a questioning tone.

“It’s okay,” Raka said. Conscious of not moving too quickly, she reached up and stroked it along the jaw. The movement startled the little creature for a moment before it leaned in and made rapid little “gluh, gluh” noises in its throat, as if it was trying to swallow. After a few seconds of this, Raka began to take her hand away only for the dragonling to grasp at her finger with what turned out to be prehensile front claws. With a surprisingly firm grip, it pulled her finger back towards its jaw.

“Fine, fine,” Raka said with a mild chuckle. “You let me study you, and I give you head-scratches. Fair trade, right?”

Randal’s camera, an expensive digital model that had been provided to each member of the expedition regardless of their function, was completely silent as he pressed the button repeatedly.

“Make sure to zoom in on as many individual features as you can,” Raka said.

“Of course, Doctor Nayar,” he replied.

The three of them stayed that way for what Randal later told her was nearly half an hour. During that time, several more dragonlings flew past, giving Raka and her little guest curious glances. After some time, the dragonling—apparently satisfied with the attention it had been given—let out one last little “wirruk” and launched itself off of her shoulder, leaving a few new scratches next to the previous ones.

“Bye, now,” Raka said quietly as the blue dragonling orbited her head once, then a second time, before vanishing into the woods.

“Wow,” Randal said. Then he added, “Hey, you’re really bleeding.”

“Yeah. Those little claws are sharp.” She reached back and felt along her back. The scratches were already tacky and her shirt was sticking uncomfortably to them. “I’ll have to add some padding to the shoulders of my shirts.”

“You going to be okay?” Randal asked. “Maybe we should head back, get that treated?”

Raka, who had just been ready to suggest the same thing, almost decided to declare her intent to stay out until the sun started setting. The scratches stung a little too much for that, though.

“Yeah, come on,” she said, picking up the backpack she had slipped to the ground when she’d first spotted the dragonling. She winced as she put it on, the strap rubbing against the scratches on her back. “Transfer those pictures to me when we get back, okay? I need to log as much as I can while the memory is fresh.”

“You got it, Doctor Nayar.”

Raka sighed. She didn’t really want to play nice, not with the armed escort that had been forced on her, but tempers were getting short enough amongst members at the camp. Any little bit of politeness now would only help.

“You can just call me Raka, Randal.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said crisply, and she rolled her eyes at him.

Together, the two of them made their way through the humid atmosphere back to the camp. Even though it was just a couple of miles, they moved at a glacial pace; Raka had her eyes on the ground and insisted on collecting every sample she could. Her backpack was already stuffed full, and she found herself regretting not bringing along another bag.

“Would you object to bringing a bag along next time?” Raka asked. “I’m collecting too many samples to carry easily.”

“Sorry, Raka. My job is to keep an eye out for you, and I already have plenty of gear to carry. You could check out one of the MULEs, though.”

Raka wrinkled her nose. “One of those mechanical walking things? They’re way too loud. They’d scare off all the wildlife.”

Randal shrugged. “Sorry, just a suggestion.”

“Why are they even called MULEs, anyway?” she asked, irritated. “I mean, isn’t that kind of insulting to the Equestrians? Aren’t there actual, talking mules where they come from?”

“I… guess? I don’t know, sorry. I know it’s an acronym, though. Multipurpose Utility… er… something, something, I always forget the last two.”

With an annoyed “hmph”, Raka walked on. With what little space remained in her backpack, she decided that any further samples would have to be something truly unique. The problem was, everything here looked worthy of that description. At least the rest of the trip went a lot faster without her stopping to pick up every interesting little thing she saw.

Soon enough, the ring of steel that marked the Harmony expedition base camp came into sight. Randal offered a wave before splitting off and checking in with his duty officer. Raka immediately made a beeline to the biology lab, intending to secure her samples before they deteriorated any further.

Once that was done, it was off to medical. The nurse took careful samples of the scratches on a cotton swab, in order to check for alien microorganisms before sterilizing the wounds and applying several bandages.

Feeling better, Raka passed the next few hours documenting the day’s events. First, her encounter with the dragonling. Every detail she could remember, as well as the pictures that Randal had taken, were entered into the log. Then it came time to catalogue the rest of her samples, which included plant life, dirt from several locations, and a few insects that ranged from midge-sized all the way up to something that looked a little like a dragonfly almost twice as long as her hand.

It wasn’t until the dragonlings’ sunset song started up, making the sheet-metal walls of the biology trailer thrum in sympathy, that Raka realized that she’d worked through most of the day. She got up off of the stool she’d been sitting on for the last several hours, wincing at the aches and muscle knots she’d brought upon herself by sitting hunched over for so long, and hurried outside. She’d made a point of listening to the song every night, as had most of the rest of the research team.

Raka closed her eyes, letting the song sweep her up. Somewhere out there, she knew, the little dragonling who had befriended her was singing its little heart out. Oddly melancholy, slightly hopeful, with peaks of joy and valleys of sorrow, the song echoed through her. In an odd way, it seemed a counterpoint to the nightly dreams she’d been having, a hope that, whatever might come, whatever trials she had to face, that everything would turn out alright in the end.

In due time, the song ended. With it, the camp resumed its normal activity. Raka allowed herself a smile. Taken merely on a physical measure, things could have been better. Dried sweat coated her skin, which felt dry and itchy. She was sure she stank after going days without a hot shower—until they could verify that the local water was potable, all of their water had to be carefully rationed. The scratches on her shoulder still stung from the antiseptic. Even so, there was nowhere else in the universe she’d rather be at that moment.

Raka made her way through the rapidly-darkening campsite until she found her lawn chair and gingerly lowered herself into it. It was still new to her. Even after three days here, it was all still fresh and exciting in a way she’d never experienced before in her life. In the black sky above, nearly untainted by light pollution, the stars wheeled above her in unfamiliar patterns. The night had cooled considerably, the humidity dropping to the point where the air was fresh and clean, the sharp clover-like smell of the creeping vine that carpeted the hill under their campsite filling her nostrils with a tang. The large white moon was already overhead, bathing the world below in its glow.

Raka was tired, but she had no interest in turning in yet. Her dreams since arrival had been… troubling. Disturbing, actually. She chalked that up to the intense excitement and, yes, worry, that she felt during her waking hours. Until Harmonics managed to re-open the gateway, she and the rest of the team were basically stranded here. Not to mention any hidden dangers that might be lurking out of sight. She could die on this world, she knew. That fact was never far from her mind. So it was easy to put the dreams of endless, longing dread into the context of facing her own mortality, and therefore write them off.

That didn’t mean she was in any hurry to face them again, though.

“You can’t sleep, either?” a voice said from her left.

“Hey, Spectral,” she said, smiling at her friend. She could barely see him with the camp lights, but she could tell that his coat was brushed and his mane was as tidy as ever. She wasn’t sure how he managed to be so neat, but it was hard to imagine a disheveled Spectral Charm. “Haven’t tried, yet.”

He grunted and laid down on the still-unnamed plant life beneath him. “I’m not in a hurry, either. I never remembered my dreams until I came here.” His jaw cracked into a yawn. “Looks like tonight is a three-moon night.”

Raka looked skyward again, seeing that he was right. So far, the large white moon, tentatively dubbed Harmony Major, had appeared each night. It was usually, though not always, accompanied by both of the smaller blue moons, called Harmony Minor Alpha and Beta, though Raka wasn’t sure how anyone could tell them apart. Tonight, unlike the previous night, all three were in the sky.

“It’s a pretty night,” Raka said, stretching out on her lawn chair.

“Yeah. Those moons bother me, though.”

Raka glanced over at Spectral, who was now only a dark silhouette next to her. Light gleamed off of his glasses as he peered skyward. “I think they’re beautiful.”

“Yes. But they’re wrong,” Spectral replied. “The more I look at them, the more wrong they seem.”

Raka frowned, studying the moons in the sky. One of the two smaller light blue ones was barely touching the eastern horizon, with the second just slightly in front of the large white one almost directly overhead. They were eerie, she had to admit, but she couldn’t place anything specifically odd about them. “How so?”

“Near as we can tell, the two smaller moons share the same orbit. I’m no astronomer, but Doctor Vang is, and she told me that should be impossible.” He grimaced and added, “Or, well, obviously not impossible, as we’re looking at it, but it is completely inexplicable.”

“Huh,” she said. “I suppose they’d collide eventually, especially since they seem to move at slightly different speeds.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s got me concerned. They’re too perfect.”

Raka squinted up above her. “What do you mean?”

“Perfectly smooth, no visible flaws, not even with a telescope. The larger, white moon has a few craters, but the two small moons look almost polished, somehow.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s almost as if they’re artificial. But what could create a moon?”

Raka chuckled and, at Spectral’s curious look, adopted a bad parody of a British accent. “That’s no moon,” she said, trying to sound ominous.

He blinked at her and looked back up at the sky, frowning. “Perhaps not. But what else could they be?”

“Sorry, I was making a reference to a really old movie.”

“Oh.” He rubbed one foreleg against the other. “Tell me about it?”

“The movie?” she asked. He nodded. “It’ll take a long time.”

“It’s not like I’m going back to bed yet,” he replied. “I’m in no rush to experience those dreams again.”

“Well, okay,” Raka said, sitting down and folding her legs in front of her. Spectral leaned against her side, radiating a welcome heat into her shivering body. She draped an arm across his withers and began speaking. “It all started long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

Raka told the story of Star Wars, probably getting lots of the details wrong. As her eyes adapted to seeing only by the light of the moons, she gradually became aware that she was gathering something of an audience. Both humans and ponies had gathered around and were listening, the ponies raptly and the humans with some amusement.

“Isn’t anyone planning on going to bed tonight?” she asked irritably.

There was a lot of noncommittal shuffling and muttering in the darkness.

“This is more interesting,” one of the ponies in the moonlight darkness said. “Were they able to escape Tatooine in the Millennial Falcon?”

“Millennium,” one of the human audience members said. Raka recognized the voice as coming from Randal, her security guard from earlier that day.

“You want to tell this story?” the pony asked irritably.

“You can if you want to,” Raka said.

“Alright,” Randal said. He gestured dramatically and intoned, “The Falcon shuddered, refusing to start. And for a moment it seemed to Luke that they’d picked the wrong ship, that it was just as big a pile of junk as it had seemed at first. But then, much to his surprise… whoosh! It took off, burning for the stars, leaving Mos Eisley in the dust behind it.”

“What’s Mos Eisley?” a pony asked. “You mean Mos Eisner?”

“It’s actually Mos Eisley. Raka got the name wrong,” Randal said.

Raka stuck her tongue out at him, but she wasn’t sure if he could see it in the gloom.

Randal took over, telling the tale of the intrepid adventurers rescuing the princess. The night spun on, and eventually Randal stopped to let another human take over the tale. It would have gone faster, but the ponies would sometimes stop to ask for explanations of different plot elements.

After a while, Randal's voice started going hoarse and he passed the storyteller duties to Ben Masters, one of the members of the cartography team, who managed a passable Darth Vader impression. The humans all clapped, and the ponies stomped their hooves in appreciation.

“Thank you, thank you,” Ben said, bowing. “How about part two tomorrow night?”

“There’s a part two?” a pony asked. “Didn’t they win? What could happen next?”

“You don’t overthrow an evil empire that easily,” Ben pointed out. “Sometimes it takes a few tries.”

“Well,” a different pony said, stretching out his neck and back legs. “I suppose it’s time for bed…”

He trailed off, looking around. None of the assembled audience seemed in a particularly big hurry to get going.

“You know,” Spectral Charm said slowly, “as long as we’re telling stories, there was a favorite of mine I heard when I was a colt. How Arcanus the Bold tricked the secrets of magic from an ancient dragon. I don’t suppose anyone is interested?”

That idea seemed to generate some interest amongst the unicorns and humans, though the pegasi and earth ponies didn’t seem so enthused.

Windbreaker, who had taken up a position on Spectral’s left side, spoke up. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one, though it sounds interesting. Once you’re done, maybe I could tell the story of how Storm Dancer managed to calm the Lord of Tempests. That’s always been a favorite of mine.”

The suggestion was met with general approval, and the stories continued into the night. After Spectral came Windbreaker, followed by Ben once again, who, at the prompting of more than a few ponies in the audience, started up on The Empire Strikes Back.

Raka, wondering what she’d started, looked around with a smile. As tired as she was, it was great to see the team come together like this. It seemed obvious now that stories that she’d known her whole life would be new and exciting to the ponies. And, of course, the same was true in reverse. The stories shared many similarities, structure-wise, though the pony tales seemed to revolve more on using cleverness, guile and tricks to solve problems, rather than outright confrontation. As she pondered whether this was due to societal or biological differences, she slowly and unexpectedly drifted asleep.

...Time. So much time, stretched out around her, a vast ocean of it with no end in sight. The sun rose, set, rose again, the moons dancing across the sky, the stars wheeling in their courses, never changing, unending. Below, the land stretched vibrant and verdant, but she found herself unable to touch it, no matter how longingly she reached. Her very soul ached for even a touch of of the green below her, but she could feel nothing. Day after day passed into countless nights, blurring from one to the next, never changing, each day whittling away another little piece of herself until all that was left was a hollow echo of who she used to be, no longer remembering who she was or why the land below was so important to her, leaving behind an aching and endless sorrow...

Raka woke with a gasp. She shivered, curling up on herself and momentarily unable to remember who or where she was. After a few moments, the echoes of the dream faded, and she came back to herself.

She looked around, her heart slowing back to its normal rhythm. For a moment, she thought that Ben and Randal were coming to blows, Ben standing imperiously over the crouching Randal while brandishing a length of tent-pole he’d grabbed from somewhere.

“Obi-wan never told you what happened to your father,” Ben said in his remarkably accurate impression of Darth Vader.

“He told me enough!” Randal responded spitefully. “He told me you killed him!”

The audience of humans and ponies, somewhat smaller now as a few of them had presumably left to seek whatever sleep they could, were listening intently, the humans looking smug and the ponies completely enraptured.

“No,” Ben intoned. “I am your father!”

The ponies all gasped while the humans chuckled.

“No… No! That’s not true! It’s impossible!” Randal cried out.

“Luke, stop arguing with your father and get to bed!” someone called out from one of the dormitory trailers. “It’s late, and we’re trying to sleep!”

The moment broke the tension, prompting a round of chuckles from the audience. Raka, still shaken from her dream, managed a wan smile.

“Everything okay, Raka?” Spectral Charm asked.

She looked over at her unicorn friend. Even in the darkness, she could see the concern etched across his face. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, as Ben and Randal started up where they left off, albeit much more quietly than before. “Just fell asleep and had a bad dream. It’s nothing.”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping, too,” Windbreaker said from his seat at Spectral’s side. “Never had dreams like it before… It was like I was a ghost, trapped in eternity.”

A chill raced down Raka’s spine. “Like, you’re flying over the landscape and you’re not able to touch anything? Like you’ve lost something important, but you can’t remember what it is, and every day that goes past you lose a little more of yourself?”

Windbreaker nodded, his eyes wide. “Yeah,” he said, clearly shaken. “That’s the dream I had.”

“Coincidence,” Spectral Charm said, though he sounded unconvinced. “It has to be. We can’t all have had the same dreams.”

“You too, Spectral?” Raka asked.

He gave a mute nod.

“What does it mean?” she asked the other two, pitching her voice low. In the background, Randal was describing Luke’s fall through the Cloud City, only to be rescued at the last moment by the Millennium Falcon. She looked around at the rest of the audience, all of whom were showing signs of exhaustion as they watched Ben and Randal play-act the final scene of The Empire Strikes Back. “Do you think others have had that dream, too?”

Spectral Charm shook his head. “No idea. But we should bring it up in the morning. If we’re all having similar dreams… There must be a common cause. We need to figure out what it is.”

“I thought this place was too perfect,” Windbreaker muttered sourly. “A whole planet teeming with life and magic, just for us? Yeah, right.”

“No need to start a panic over this,” Spectral Charm said. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can find the cause. No need for alarm. Truly. We can handle whatever this planet throws at us.”

Raka would have been a lot more reassured by Spectral’s statement if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were a little wild and his coat was standing on-edge, making him seem slightly larger than usual. But they were still a little over a week away from being able to go home. What else could they do?

“We’ll figure this out,” Raka said, trying to make her voice calm and steady. “We’ll find out what’s happening, and we’ll deal with it. Everything is going to be just fine.”

Fifteen. That was all that was left of the once-mighty Faith Guardians. Fifteen remaining of the hundreds that had once maintained the order of the Citadel of the Goddess and the various temples. They stood before him, the newly bonded—if initially unwilling—Inspiri attached to them looking at him with stoic expressions while awaiting their orders.

When the priests had become the original Faith Guardians, they had retained the entirety of their original selves. These new Inspiri had no original selves to speak of. The Caretaker had instead crafted a single template and impressed that template on the souls of the random Dreamers he had plucked from the soul-font. They would be unimaginative, uninspired and simple, but they would follow orders.

The soul template had taken days of unceasing work. The bonding itself was not as firm as he would have liked it to be, which could only be expected from such inferior materials.

He wasn’t overly concerned with that, however. The invaders had to deal with the greatly reduced magic that radiated from the Barrier Moons. The Faith Guardians had no such limitation. Each of them had a Key Rune etched into their forms, a new addition from the Caretaker himself, based on the one in his staff. With the Key Rune, each of them could pull magic directly from the Barrier itself. The Faith Guardians would be more powerful, by far, than anything the invaders could bring to bear.

Overwhelming force was, after all, what they were designed for.

There was, however, a problem. The Guardians would deal with the current invaders easily. But if they came in greater numbers, they might overwhelm his defenses. Fifteen Guardians, as powerful as they were, would not be enough.

Fortunately, there were other options. The various tribes and castes had all developed their own bio-magical weaponry, all attempting to reach the pinnacle the Faith Guardians had dominated for millennia on end. And, of course, those efforts always fell short of reaching those heights. However, they had one advantage that the Faith Guardians did not: they were much more numerous.

Many would have been destroyed during the wars, of course. Many more would have fallen apart as the millenia sleeted by. But many would still be useable, buried in ancient strongholds scattered the world over, just waiting to be woken up and bound with a fresh soul.

Forget defense, the Caretaker mused. If I can harness the might of all the bio-magical wartime horrors to my cause, I can take the fight to the invader’s home world. I can destroy them utterly, and end the threat of them for all time.

The Faith Guardians were still waiting for their orders, their blank faces tracking him as he moved. It set him a little on-edge. Before the war, he had been a mage without peer. Yet, if he had made a mistake in the template, if any of the Guardians retained even a spark of their true selves and opted for revenge, he would be in for the fight of his life.

Best to get them out of his presence, then.

“The invaders are here,” he said, indicating on a holographic map. “Proceed to this place. Capture those who do not resist, and bring them here. Kill those who try to fight you. Go, now.”

The Faith Guardians said nothing, but around them the air itself seemed to twist. A moment later, all fifteen of them were gone. The Caretaker turned away and began searching the Citadel’s records for any and all vaults or strongholds that may have contained the weapons of his ancient enemies. At one time, those weapons had threatened to tear his world apart. It was fitting, he thought as he searched, that those same weapons would now serve to defend that same world.

Author's Notes:

Many thanks to my editing crew:
BrilliantPoint
Coandco
Ekevoo
Merlos the Mad
Razalon the Lizardman