1. Reflections on Anomalies

As Twilight walked towards the back of the Crystal Ballroom, her lit horn gradually dimmed. Was that the anomaly? Princess Celestia was quite vague as to what she was to investigate, only declaring that it was to be her top priority. Cadance was no more forthcoming. They didn’t want her to have any preconceived notions.

She tried compensating by upping her magical exertion. That worked. She turned around and walked back towards the entrance, from where the others were watching her and Spike; as she half-expected, her horn brightened again. She resumed walking towards the far end. Sunlight striking the exterior wall refracted and reflected throughout all the walls, the escaping prismatic light competing with the interior lighting. As before, her horn got increasingly dimmer the closer to the back she got.

“The anomaly appears to weaken my unicorn magic,” she said, her voice reverberating in the large, empty ballroom. “The further I go in this direction, the worse it gets.” Spike dutifully wrote that down. Back at the hallway, Rainbow Dash and Applejack exchanged uneasy looks; Princess Cadance had no visible reaction. “Compensation is possible via increased magical exertion.”

Time for a different experiment. The alicorn tried lifting her saddlebags with her magic and found it surprisingly difficult, as if they had gained a lot of weight. “Telekinesis is similarly affected.”

They reached the back wall. “To maintain light output here, I need ten times the normal exertion level.” Her number one assistant continued writing down her observations. The two walked along the back wall, searching for the point at which magic seemed the weakest.

They found it in front of a modest door, probably leading to a storage area. It was locked, both magically and physically, but that was easy enough to take care of—not quite as easy as it would have been if her magic was at full strength—but soon enough the door opened, indeed revealing a storage area with empty, shelf-lined walls.

But what immediately caught the alicorn’s eye was a mirror reflecting her lit horn. The glare made it difficult to see anything else, so she dimmed her horn. The only other light was from the ballroom behind her. Her eyes quickly adjusted revealing a familiar object. Why had it been moved here? Once she had passed through it to a strange realm, one populated by bipedal “humans.” It was at least another year before it opened again, so for now it ought to be “just” a mirror.

Twilight slowly crossed the dozen or so feet to the mirror, with each step her horn requiring additional exertion to maintain its brightness. The sound of her clopping hooves revealed the absence of reverberation, lending the room a claustrophobic vibe. By the time she had reached the mirror, it was taking unsustainable effort to maintain even a dim glow. “It sure looks like the mirror is the problem,” she told Spike.

The lavender alicorn in the reflection stared back at her. Might as well see what happens. She raised a hoof to touch the mirror’s surface. As expected, it met a solid surface—my horn went dark! In shock she jumped back; to her relief her horn resumed its dim glow.

“You okay?” Spike nervously asked.

“I-I’m fine,” Twilight assured him, her pounding heart calming down. “Just surprised, that’s all.” She touched the surface again, and again dark her horn went. This time she maintained contact and tried levitating her saddlebags. Nothing. She tried levitating her tail. Nothing.

Spike pointed apprehensively at her cutie mark. “Twilight…”

She saw the baby dragon’s reflection in the mirror and rotated so that she could see her reflected cutie mark. It was slowly fading. “That can’t be good,” she said, as she quickly broke contact with the mirror. Her horn resumed its dim glow and her cutie mark stopped fading; it actually began to darken, though more slowly than it faded. That makes perfect sense. A cutie mark is a magical projection onto the coat. Without magic to sustain it, it would have to fade. There’s barely enough magic here to restore the projection.

Twilight unlit her horn and again tried levitating her tail. This time it lifted, but her tail felt impossibly heavy to her telekinesis. She relayed all these observations to Spike, who wrote them all down.

“Let’s tell the others.” They started walking back. Her cutie mark continued to darken, returning to normal shortly after re-entering the ballroom. Twilight pondered what this all meant, with little success. The portal was closed, but it appeared to be suppressing her unicorn magic; this hadn’t happened even when it was open. In order to figure out what was going on, she needed a hypothesis to test. By the time she and Spike reached the entrance, an experiment had been devised.

The two found the other ponies just inside the hallway, waiting for their findings. Twilight got down to business. “The storage room back there has The Mirror,” she declared. “The one that Sunset Shimmer used to leave Equestria. It’s the source of the anomaly, isn’t it?” Twilight waited for Cadance to answer.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I had it moved there to keep it out of the way.”

“What exactly is the anomaly doing?” asked Applejack.

“It’s suppressing magic. When I touched it, my magic completely vanished.”

“But only while you touched it, right?” Rainbow Dash anxiously asked.

“Only while I touched it,” she assured her. “I’m perfectly fine now.” Was that a foolish thing to do? What if it hadn’t been temporary?

Applejack didn’t look assured. “The mirror never did this before?”

“No,” Cadance replied. “Nopony knows where the mirror came from or how old it is, but nothing like this has ever happened during Celestia’s reign.” Her face became deadly serious. “Twilight, the affected area is growing. Slowly for now…”

Though she knew there could only be one answer, Twilight nonetheless had to ask the question. “My brother could not contain it?” Obviously not, or he’d be here containing it and not on a train to Canterlot. And he didn’t volunteer any information about this anomaly either, she now realized.

“He tried. His shield worked, but only temporarily. The smaller the volume contained, the faster it collapsed.” Of course. Shining Armor used unicorn magic. The shield was being eroded from the inside.

“There’s an experiment I need to perform,” Twilight stated. “Let’s go to the balcony.”

The ballroom opened up to a broad balcony. Twilight led the group outside into the late morning sun. The sounds of crystal ponies going about their lives drifted upwards from far below. Getting as far away from the anomaly as possible, she walked all the way to the railing. As the others joined her, she told them, “Leave this area in front of me clear.”

Twilight conjured a small cloud a foot off the ground, big enough to hold a single pony, from the humidity of the surrounding air. She was far enough away that her magic was unimpeded, as she had hoped. The cloud was positioned so that it had a straight line to the mirror. Faking a grin, she mockingly looked around and said, “I need the services of a pegasus. Any volunteers?”

The only pegasus present responded with forced enthusiasm. “‘Danger’ is my middle name!” With somewhat less enthusiasm, she asked, “What’cha got in mind?”

Twilight went serious; science wasn’t to be taken lightly. “Hop onto this cloud.” Rainbow Dash complied. “I want you to remain standing on this cloud while you use your wings to slowly push yourself all the way to the mirror.”

“What d’ya expect to happen?” she asked with a hint of trepidation. Known dangers are easier to pony up for than unknown dangers, figured Twilight.

“I can’t tell you; it could negatively impact the quality of the generated data.”

Rainbow Dash digested that for a moment and got indigestion. “Eggheads…” she quietly muttered under her breath.

Twilight pulled a device out of her saddlebag and gave it to Spike. It was rod-shaped, with a flattened rectangular head that possessed several knobs and a meter. “Take and record readings as we go,” she instructed. I won’t be able to use it once we get too close.

Spike grabbed it, turned it on and took his first reading. “99.9%, basically normal.” He wrote it down.

“Ah reckon that’s one of your scientific devices?”

“Sure is, Applejack. It’s a probe that measures the strength of the ambient magical field.” Her attention switched to the perched pegasus. “Okay, Rainbow Dash, let’s go.”

Rainbow Dash began to gently push herself forward with her wings, heading towards the mirror. Twilight exchanged a glance with Princess Cadance. Yeah, she probably shares my suspicions on what is about to happen.

Twilight, accompanied by Spike, started to follow Rainbow Dash and her cloud, remaining a few feet behind. Everypony else likewise followed Twilight. Spike took readings every so often and noted that the field strength was decreasing, slowly at first, but at an accelerating rate. It appeared to be proportional to the inverse square of the remaining distance to the mirror.

For over a hundred feet nothing in particular happened, but at some point Rainbow Dash started shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. “This cloud is starting to feel a bit funny.”

“Funny how?” asked Twilight.

“Well, it’s getting sorta, I don’t know, soggy.” Twilight was giving her one of those looks. “Yeah, I know it’s made of water, but—I dunno know… how to describe it… it’s like it’s starting to fall apart and, well, I don’t want it to fall apart, but it’s ignoring me.” Her weight shifting grew more aggressive as her footing became increasingly precarious. “And it’s getting harder to push with my wings.” Spike wrote it all down along with the probe’s reading of 3%. They were about 15 feet from the mirror. Twilight was all but certain as to what was about to happen.

The cloud was now visibly losing its cohesion as they entered the storage area, and Rainbow Dash was struggling to stay on top. She was also pumping her wings way too hard given her forward progress. 9 feet, 1%.

A few seconds later, the pegasus fell through the cloud, dissipating what was left of it. She instinctively tried to hover but to no avail; she fell to the floor. Fortunately it was only a few feet and she was shaken but unharmed. 6 feet, 0.5%.

“I can’t fly!”

“Nor stand on clouds or even keep a small cloud intact,” Twilight observed. She shook her head. “This is bad, very very bad.”

Rainbow Dash kept trying to take off but could do no more than hop a few inches off the ground, her flapping wings nearly useless. Twilight knew neither she nor Cadance would do any better.

Applejack couldn’t believe her eyes. “What about us earth ponies?”

Twilight was sure of the answer, but what experiment could she perform? There was no apple tree for Applejack to buck, and she certainly couldn’t conjure up one here—but then she had it. “Spike, put your quill down in front of Applejack.”

He did so.

“Now, Applejack, pick it up with your hoof.”

She tried, but she couldn’t lift it off the floor. “It’s just like when Tirek took our magic.”

Rainbow Dash walked over and tried to pick it up, also without success. “Yeah… remember how hard it was to turn those keys with our hooves?”

Spike tried his fire breath, but little more than sparks came out.

“I reckon none of us are immune,” Applejack concluded.

“Spike, go to the mirror and take a reading,” Twilight instructed. “Then touch it with the probe and take another reading.”

“On it.” Possessing actual claws, the absence of magic could not prevent him from picking up a quill or using the magic probe. “At one foot the field barely registers, under point zero one per cent.” He touched the probe to the mirror. “Zero.” He turned a knob, increasing sensitivity to maximum, and touched the probe to the mirror again. “Still zero.”

Twilight was satisfied; the experiment was over. “Let’s walk back. We’ll all return to normal once we get far enough away.”

Every few feet Rainbow Dash tried to take off, each time her wings providing more thrust; eventually she was able, with difficulty, to stay airborne. About fifty feet from the mirror, Twilight stopped and retrieved a different instrument from her saddlebag, this one a flattened box shape containing two meters, a compass-like pointer, and the usual collection of knobs.

“What’s that one do?” asked Applejack.

Twilight turned it on and set it on the floor. “The magical field behaves like a viscous gas. This device measures the flow and viscosity of the field. Levitating it messes up the readings, which is why I put it on the floor.” She waited a bit longer for the readings to settle down. “There’s no question about it,” she began. “Magic is flowing towards the mirror and the field viscosity is below normal.” Spike recorded the data off the device.

“I should take another reading closer to the mirror.” Twilight picked up the device, trotted a dozen feet closer to the mirror, with Spike tagging along, then set it down again. A half-minute later the readings had settled, showing that the flow was faster and the viscosity lower. The two rejoined the others, then all of them continued on to the balcony. Outside, the magic flow was minimal and the viscosity was normal.

Twilight walked over to the railing and leaned against it, staring off into the distance, letting it all sink in. Somehow the magic of their world was bleeding out; worse, the viscosity changes showed that something else was happening too—but what? How will she solve this one? Am I being tested yet again?

Applejack came up alongside her.

Twilight said, quietly, “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but it doesn’t get any easier.” She continued to stare at infinity.

“We’re all here to help ya, doncha forget that.” She too stared into the distance.

Rainbow Dash drifted down in front of them, on the far side of the railing, forelegs crossed in defiance. “Why do I need magic to fly?!” she demanded. “Birds do it all the time and they aren’t magical.” She quickly added, “Most of them.”

Twilight looked at the pegasus in disbelief. “Wasn’t this covered in flight school?”

“Uh…” she sheepishly said, rubbing a hoof through her mane.

Twilight rolled her eyes. Probably too busy daydreaming about the Wonderbolts to pay attention. “Pegasus wings are too small,” she explained. “Wings of any size cannot provide both the raw speed and agility all pegasi have, never mind a pegasus like you.”

Rainbow Dash considered that for a moment. “I guess that makes sense. I always did wonder why birds had to work their wings so hard.”

Cadance joined them. “What now? Do you want to try your Rainbow Powers?”

Twilight looked down at the streets far below. She watched the crystal ponies going about their business, oblivious to the danger. Not that any purpose would be served by informing them at this time, other than to cause panic. Hopefully they will never need to know.

“Not yet,” she said with a sigh. “What worries me is that our magic will just follow the ambient magic to who knows where. I don’t think magic can reach the physical mirror itself.” She turned away from the railing to look at her fellow ponies. “If the ‘hole’ through which magic is draining is growing larger on its own, then using the Elements on it, forcing more magic through it, might only make it grow faster.”

“We do have some time,” Cadance said. “Assuming it continues to worsen at the current rate, it will be months before it seriously threatens the Crystal Heart.”

“Why not move it out to the middle of nowhere where it can’t bother anypony?” asked Applejack.

Cadance slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid it may be too late for that. Any ponies who attempt to move it will have to do so without using magic of any kind. It’s a long way down to the ground floor and the Crystal Heart is right outside.”

“Move the Crystal Heart?” Spike suggested.

“The affect that would have on the crystal ponies would be nearly as bad.”

“It wouldn’t be a permanent solution anyway,” added Twilight. “Given enough time it would bleed all the magic out of Equestria and beyond.” She didn’t add that the chances were good that at some point something would give, like a dam collapsing, increasing the flow exponentially.

“So let’s take care of it now!” insisted Rainbow Dash. “That way, we don’t have to worry about moving it.”

Twilight looked at the pegasus. You make it sound so easy. “Why don’t you go fetch the others.” It was time to get them involved. There had been no need for them to hang around as Twilight conducted her initial investigation, so Rarity was out shopping for fabrics, Pinkie Pie was shopping for a party, and Fluttershy was helping Pinkie Pie.

“On it!” Rainbow Dash vanished into the distance, leaving behind her rainbow contrail.

2. Chaotic Enlightenment

It didn’t take long for Rainbow Dash to find everypony. Rarity, obviously, was in the fashion district. As for Pinkie Pie… she had a way of standing out. Poor Fluttershy was with her, carrying all of the purchased party supplies. Will she ever stop being a doormat?

After touching bases with them, she flew ahead and waited for them at the castle. Rarity arrived first, with various bolts of fabric floating above her. After she had set them down, Rainbow Dash pointed a hoof at the grand staircase. “They’re at the top of the stairs.”

Rarity balked, whining, “You simply cannot expect me to climb all the way to the top!” Like most unicorns she didn’t know how to self-levitate or teleport, and naturally she lacked earth pony—or crystal pony—stamina.

You could use the exercise, the pegasus thought but didn’t say. Rainbow considered her options. I could carry her up, but I’d have to listen to her complain about what it was doing to her mane. That settled it. Let Twilight deal with it; she could teleport her or something. She was about to fetch the alicorn when Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy arrived.

Fluttershy was about ready to collapse from her load. This took priority. “Let’s get this stuff off you,” Rainbow Dash said as she hovered above Fluttershy and started removing the party supplies off Fluttershy’s back. Rarity quickly joined in using her telekinesis. Pinkie was happy to just stand there and observe her friends feeling good about helping another friend.

Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to finish unloading Fluttershy. Now to deal with Rarity. “I’ll fetch Twilight so she can teleport you to the balcony,” she told her. Turning her attention to the Pinkie, she said, “meet us at the top of the stairs.” Pinkie immediately pronked away. Being an earth pony, Rainbow knew it wouldn’t be a problem for her. Being Pinkie Pie…

Rainbow Dash grabbed Fluttershy by the hoof and launched in the direction of the door, heading outside. “Come on Fluttershy, we gotta get to the top before Pinkie Pie!” The balcony was many hundreds of feet above the ground. There was no way Pinkie could get there first!

Once outside, Dash got behind Fluttershy and started pushing her up with all her might. “I didn’t know we were racing her,” Fluttershy apologized, as she started flapping her wings, but Rainbow was too focused on winning to explain.

In mere seconds they reached the balcony, where Rainbow Dash found Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Princess Cadance, and Spike. Wait, what? Pinkie wasn’t even breathing hard, as if she’d been standing there for some time. Dash gritted her teeth as Pinkie innocently smiled back at her. How does she do that? It was pointless to ask; if even Twilight could not figure that out, what chance did she have?

She felt she was forgetting something. Oh yeah… Rarity. “Hey, Twilight, could you give Rarity a helping hoof? She’s at the foot of the stairs.” Twilight gave her a blank look. For such a smart pony, you can be incredibly dense sometimes. “You know… can’t fly, can’t teleport, not an earth pony?”

Understanding dawned on her. “Oh… sure… be right back.” Twilight teleported away and a few seconds later came back with Rarity.

“Much obliged,” the fashionista said, her mane totally not messed up.

Now that they were all together, Twilight summarized her findings. Rainbow Dash anticipated their predictable reactions.

“This will not do. We cannot allow Equestria to lose its magic.” Rarity, check.

“We must do something, for the sake of the magical critters.” Fluttershy, check.

They all looked expectantly at Pinkie Pie, wondering how she will put a positive, random spin on it.

“I’ve got nothing!” she chirped.

After a brief eye roll, Twilight continued. “We know so little about that mirror. It was already an ancient mystery when Princess Celestia’s reign began.”

“Why not ask someone just as ancient?” chirped Pinkie Pie.

Rainbow Dash glared at her. “Got anypony in mind?”

“How about Discord?” They all stared at Fluttershy.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Even if he does know, can we trust him?”

Fluttershy said, “He depends on magic more than we do. It’s in his interest to help us solve this.”

Rainbow Dash thought about how she couldn’t fly or even pick up a quill, but at least equine bodies were… rational. Nonetheless, Fluttershy had a good point—if he could be believed. If. “Then why doesn’t he fix it himself?” Working herself up, she shouted, “What if this is all his doing?!”

Fluttershy replied, calmly, “I know he sometimes can’t help himself, but even you have to admit this isn’t chaotic enough for his tastes.”

Rainbow Dash looked away. As much as she hated to admit it, nothing particularly chaotic was going on here. But why did Princess Celestia ask Twilight to look into this, but not Discord?

“Assumin’ he can’t fix it himself, why didn’t he say somethin’ or ask for help?” Good for you, Applejack!

“Because he knew you would all act this way!” Fluttershy said, not quite so calmly.

Everypony was silent.

Discord had been on his best behavior since the Tirek incident. He even did penance by undoing all the damage that occurred during Twilight’s battle with Tirek. But while the princesses and Fluttershy were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, the others still held reservations—Rainbow Dash most of all.

Twilight finally spoke. “We are not going to figure out Discord’s intentions by arguing amongst ourselves. Even if this anomaly is one of his games—and I think that unlikely—the only way to end it is to play along and see what he’s really after. I will ask him about The Mirror.”

“A wise choice!” Discord was suddenly floating in the air above them.

Rainbow Dash wondered how long he’d been there, invisible, listening in.

Twilight didn’t waste any time. “I’m asking.”

“And I shall answer: The mirror is my creation.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“Best. Revelation. Ever. Party!” Confetti fell and balloons rose as Pinkie blew a party horn.

“How does she do that?” Discord mused, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

Oh, the way Twilight was looking at him. Dash knew that somewhere a line was being added to a checklist. Come on, Twilight, he’s just yanking your chain.

“Why is it sucking magic out of our realm?” the alicorn asked, by all appearances ignoring his last utterance.

A hammock came into existence, suspended in mid-air, and the draconequus casually settled into it. A tropical looking alcoholic beverage appeared in a paw, along with oversized sunglasses on his face, and he was now wearing a rather loud, colorful shirt. Rarity briefly grimaced at the horror.

“Because you damaged it when you used your Element of Harmony while on the other side.” He took a nonchalant sip. “You brought magic into that realm through your Element’s connection to the other Elements.”

“Surely you’re not blaming this on Twilight?”

“I’m merely stating the facts,” he replied to Rarity, taking yet another sip.

He sure seems unconcerned, considering the stakes, Rainbow Dash thought. Not exactly evidence this isn’t one of his games.

“I was not the reason the Element of Magic went through the mirror,” Twilight said, defending herself. “I had no idea this would happen when I used it and I had good reason to use it at the time.”

“None of which alters the fact that you did use it and thus caused damage.” He had started on his second drink, his head now resting on a pillow that wasn’t there before.

“Fine, I won’t dispute it.” Discord briefly lifted his sunglasses and shot her a quick smile. “What’s important is that we fix it. It would help if we knew more about it. For example, what was the point of a portal to a realm populated by bipedal versions of the ponies I know here?”

“None.” He took a long, contented sip. “That realm is not what you think it is.”

“Enlighten me,” she droned.

Discord casually finished off his drink. He then discarded all his old props in favor of a professorial outfit, wearing a black cape and tasseled square hat and standing in front of a lectern that floated in the air in front of him. “The realm you entered was nothing but a reflection of this realm,” he lectured. “It has no independent existence of its own. In some sense it doesn’t exist at all unless somepony goes through the mirror to observe it.”

“Sunset Shimmer,” said Twilight stating the obvious. “Why wasn’t there a reflection of me?”

“You became your own reflection. You, too, Spike.”

“So we all coulda gone through the mirror with Twilight and become our own reflections,” deduced Applejack.

“It certainly would have made my task easier,” Twilight pointed out. “I guess Princess Celestia was too cautious, but she did say she didn’t know much about it.”

Rainbow Dash took a few steps towards the draconequus. “When do you get to the part where you tell us how to fix it?” she demanded.

He gave her a professorial glare. “First you must understand what it is you are fixing.”

“Nnngh.” He’s just being difficult. But Twilight took his words at face value. That egghead would.

Twilight asked, “What kind of reflection turns ponies into bipedal creatures with hands?”

“And dragons into dogs!” Spike added.

“I believe you are smart enough to figure that out for yourself,” Discord replied, in a way that was not a smirk. Twilight sat on her haunches, closed her eyes, and thought. She had obviously accepted the challenge. Do you hafta indulge him?

“The reflection is distorted… physical form is different, though other attributes stay the same, such as personality, skin and hair color, cutie marks… What would be the cause of such distortion…” Twilight opened her eyes and looked at Discord. “If that realm is a reflection of ours, then what is it reflecting off of?”

“Bravo!” he cheered, as he placed a gold star over and down Twilight’s horn. “That is what got damaged and the other side of that is where the magic is going.”

The annoyed alicorn’s eyes went cross-eyed trying to look at the gold star. Her horn glowed as she pulled off the star, crumbled it, and tossed it. Having dealt with that, she then said, “What you really created was a barrier to keep magic from leaking out of Equestria.”

“Close enough,” he confirmed. “It thoroughly isolates this realm from the other.”

“And the mirror was simply a means of accessing the inner workings of the barrier.”

“Go on…” Discord was clapping his paws in excitement.

“And even though it’s not due to open for many moons, I bet you can snap your talons and let us in so we can fix it.”

His excitement melted away. “If only that were true. There is no magic in the vicinity of the mirror therefore I have no power over it.”

“And our Rainbow Powers?”

“At best, they would be useless for the same reason. At worst… remember it was the use of the Elements of Harmony that damaged it in the first place. That realm was a magic-free zone for a reason.”

Twilight’s tone hardened. “Are you saying it can’t be fixed?”

“From this side of the barrier, no,” he reluctantly confirmed. “It may be possible to fix it from the other side.” All his props vanished, leaving him naked in every sense. “I cannot exist there. You ponies can.”

That sunk in.

Applejack said, “You can get us there and back?”

“I believe so, but not this close to the mirror. You need to go back to Ponyville. When you are ready to visit that realm, I’ll be ready with the means.” Discard started to fade away.

“Wait! One last question.”

Discord unfaded and looked at Rainbow Dash.

“You obviously knew about it before Princess Celestia,” she accused. “Why didn’t you tell anypony?”

“How do you think she found out?” He faded to nothing once more, this time without interruption.

For the next few hours the ponies went their separate ways. Twilight stayed at the castle, writing a report of her findings to Princess Celestia. She doubted her former mentor would be reading anything she didn’t already know. Discord would have known what was going on as soon as it started happening, and he had already informed Celestia.

She put into the cover letter a request for guidance on what to do next. After packaging the report up for delivery, she gave it to Spike. She didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Quickly scanning past the pleasantries, she found her answer: I have full confidence in your judgement and abilities. Do what you feel is necessary. It felt like yet another test, only this one she did not have the luxury of failing.

It was a terrible burden of responsibility. She wondered if she would have been better off if she had failed her entrance exam to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, as she almost did. She would never have been discovered by the Princess, never have been her personal student. She would have been just another ordinary unicorn, unburdened by the fate of Equestria.

But the alicorn princess knew it was pointless speculation, for it was her destiny that had brought her here.

Twilight contemplated her cutie mark. The large central star was on the Tree of Harmony itself, above the Sun and the Moon. It was surrounded by five small stars, six altogether, one for each Element of Harmony, with Magic, her Element, taking center stage, their destinies linked the day their cutie marks all appeared at the same time, years before they first met. Celestia must have known something when she saw hers appear after she had passed her entrance exam—not that she had ever asked her.

Where will my destiny take me?

Pinkie Pie held her party in an effort to boost morale. She reminded them of their previous successes, that at least this time there was no terrible monster or villain, and that they might even get to explore a strange new world. Think of the adventure! (That sure pushed Rainbow Dash’s button.) Exotic critters and fashions! (Ditto Fluttershy and Rarity.) Maybe even exotic apple orchards!

Twilight decided she would not have been better off, because then she would not have ponies like these for friends.

Later, on the train ride back to Ponyville, Twilight tried to come up with a plan for their mission to the other realm. There was so little to go on. She didn’t even know if they could cross over only once or as many times as they liked, and once there how would they find the hole? How would they plug it? She wished Pinkie Pie would just blurt out the knowledge she could not possibly have, as she has done before, that would answer these questions. Her wish was in vain. Why can’t she do that when it’d be useful?

Upon arriving in Ponyville, Twilight told the others to gather at her castle the following morning. They will find out what Discord has for them and take it from there.

“Fluttershy, why don’t you do the honors?” They were all present in her private library and Twilight was ready to get down to business.

“Discord?” she called out. “We’re ready for you.”

He popped into existence looking like a respectable scientist or inventor, wearing a lab coat and nerdy glasses, and holding a clipboard. No, nothing mad or crazy here, Twilight cynically thought. Addressing the group, he said, “I can get you to the other realm, and—” looking at Rainbow Dash “—yes, I can get you back.”

The pegasus stared back but said nothing in return.

“I am trying here,” he complained. Her stare softened, but not by much.

Twilight wanted to get things back on track. “What do you know about this other realm?”

“It’s a stickler for rules,” he said disdainfully, “and those rules do not recognize the existence of a magical field. Our magic can exist there, temporarily, but it must ‘bargain’”—he air quoted—”with those rules to get anything accomplished—and some things are non-negotiable.”

No magic. Stickler for rules. No wonder Discord can’t exist there. Won’t be fun for us either. “So we won’t have magic until we find the other end of the hole,” she said with a lack of enthusiasm. “I hope you can put us right on top of it.”

“There’s good news and there’s bad news,” he clichédly said.

Applejack adjusted her Stetson. “Start with the bad news.”

“I can only put you within fifty miles of the hole, almost certainly too far to get usable magic from it.”

“And how will we find it?” the orange mare continued.

Twilight answered that. “I have equipment that should be able to do that.” At least I figured that much out.

“In our realm this ‘hole’ looks like The Mirror. What will it look like over there?” asked Rarity.

“I don’t know,” replied Discord simply.

I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

When it became clear there were no further questions, Discord conjured what looked like a candy dispensing machine. Inside its glass container were cylindrical plaid pills, a combination of yellow and red matching the draconequus’ eyes.

“Now the good news,” he began. “One of these pills shall provide all of your inter-realm travel needs. It will take you there. It will get you back here. It will provide you with a supply of magic. And last but not least, it will make you invisible and inaudible to the locals so they’ll leave you alone.”

Twilight was quite impressed. “We simply swallow one?” The pills were on the large side, but not too big to swallow. If they did in fact hold a supply of magic, large was good.

Discord nodded. “One for each round trip. Each pill holds enough magic to last most of a day if used sparingly. When you’re about to run out, you’ll automatically return.”

Good. Don’t want to get stuck there without magic. “How do we return sooner?”

“You click your rear hooves three times—” he demonstrated with his own feet “—and think ‘there’s no place like home.’ Upon returning, any remaining magic in the pill is released back into the environment. You may take another pill immediately.”

He’s really thought this through. I didn’t know he had it in him. “When we go back there, how do we control where we end up?”

“You can return to any spot you’ve been to before. Just clearly think of your destination as you swallow the pill. To be placed in the area of the hole, avoid thinking of any destination.”

That seemed to cover all the bases. Twilight’s attention turned to the magic that has left Equestria. “What happened to the magic that has flowed into that realm?” she asked. “Is there any way to bring it back to our realm?”

Discord tapped his chin a few times in thought. “Unlikely,” he decided. “The magic would spread out to infinity and eventually decay into forms of energy permitted in that realm.”

The scientist within her was fascinated by a realm so different from her own, but she needed to focus on plugging that hole. Every day that passed meant that much more magic being lost from an ever increasing volume. It was an open question how fast the affected volume will recover—or even if it would. She could indulge herself on the physics of a non-magical realm once this was resolved.

Rarity said, “What you have come up with is quite impressive.”

Discord bowed slightly to the fashionista. “Thank you, my dear, but I am quite motivated. It is not in my interest for you to fail, even if you weren’t all my friends.”

Quite true, but still… That left the questions of when to make the first trip and who was to accompany her. Twilight considered her options.

“No time like the present,” she declared. She levitated the pill dispenser to herself and studied it. Nothing mysterious about it, just turn the knob and a pill should come out. It wasn’t even possible to insert a coin. That’d be silly, but with Discord one never knows.

“For this first trip I think it’s best that only Rainbow Dash accompany me.” That did not sit well with the others, not that she expected differently. She raised a hoof to preempt their objections. “I want to be airborne the entire time and get the lay of the land. I only plan on being there ten minutes at most.” Fluttershy could fly, obviously, but she wouldn’t object to being left out of the action. Assuming flying magic isn’t one of those non-negotiable items.

The other pegasus present could barely contain her excitement. “This is gonna be so awesome! I’m gonna be wingpony to a princess!”

The princess rolled her eyes as she levitated her saddlebags onto her back. Her magic probe was still in there from her trip to the Crystal Empire. It ought to be able to pick up the escaping magic dozens of miles away. If so, she can follow the increasing gradient to the source. If not… well, she’ll worry about it if it came to that.

She turned the knob on the pill dispenser two times and retrieved the two plaid pills. Before she could send them to their respective mouths, Discord had one last thing to say. “So that you cross over together, you both need to have a pill in your mouth before either of you swallow. Only one of you can select a destination—or, in this case, neither of you.” Looking at Rainbow Dash, he added, “Don’t chew.”

While the pegasus glared back, Twilight moved the pills into position, taking one into her mouth. It somehow tasted plaid and felt unpleasantly slimy, not that it was dissolving. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? At least she wouldn’t need water to wash it down. Hopefully the taste won’t linger. She didn’t want to think about what the stuff inside would taste like if she did chew it.

Rainbow Dash had one in her mouth too and was clearly no happier with the taste and mouth feel. Discord got another glare from her as he put on his best “what did I do?” face. Enough already. She waved a hoof in front of the pegasus’ face to get her attention. Once she had it, she said “now.”

They both swallowed. It felt just as slimy going down—

3. Strangers in a Strange Land

—plunging to her death. Twilight found herself high in the sky with nothing but water far, far below. Her heart pounded as panic set in. Hooves desperately flailed in response to sudden weightlessness. Some small part of her mind was trying to make itself heard above the roar of the air racing past her. Wings. Suddenly remembering she could fly, her wings shot out. The air howling past tried to rip them off but only succeeded in slowing her fall.

The alicorn struggled to level out, angling her wings. After what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds, she was flying horizontally through the air. Flying magic works, she noted with relief. Calming down, Twilight looked around for Rainbow Dash and found her by her side. She sighed. No doubt she recovered instantly. She slowed down and came to a halt, hovering over what she could now see was an ocean.

“Did you forget you had wings or something?” the pegasus asked.

Twilight cringed. How embarrassing. “Surprisingly easy to do when you weren’t born with them,” she dryly responded.

“I was about to grab you.”

I really need to fly more, a lot more. It wasn’t as if Rainbow Dash hadn’t been willing to teach her. There were simply too many other things she’d rather be doing with her free time. Pushing that out of her mind for now, she looked around, taking her first good look at their new surroundings. A few miles away was a coastline, with brownish, low mountains that almost but not quite reached the ocean. The sky above them was solid cloud cover, thick enough to appear gray. Rainbow Dash was climbing towards them and Twilight decided to follow. They came to a stop just beneath them.

“I don’t know, Twilight,” the pegasus said, inspecting the underside of the cloud. “These seem different somehow. Can we even stand on them?”

“They are unusually low for clouds,” Twilight pointed out. “Looks more like an elevated fog bank. And they certainly aren’t being managed by pegasi.” But water mist was still water mist. “Only one way to find out.” She disappeared into the cloud with Rainbow Dash right behind her.

The cloud was surprisingly thick, but before long they were hovering above the cloud top. “Here goes nothing,” said Rainbow Dash as she attempted to perch on the cloud—successfully.

Twilight joined her. “At least our pegasus magic seems to work here.” The sun was low in the sky over the distant mountains, shining brightly. It didn’t really look or feel any different than Celestia’s sun. “I wonder how it moves across the sky without magic?”

“Maybe it doesn’t move.”

Twilight figured they’d find out one way or the other soon enough. Time to find out if unicorn magic works. She used it to take the magic probe out of a saddlebag. So far, so good. She took a reading as Rainbow Dash watched. “This isn’t good.”

“It doesn’t work here?”

“Oh, it’s working. It’s just that it’s obviously reading the magical field generated by the pill.” The field couldn’t have extended very far, but she realized she had another problem. “If I move the probe far enough way to measure the ambient field…”

“You levitation magic fails and it falls into the ocean below.”

“Right,” she confirmed. “I need to do something about that, maybe put it on a long pole.”

“So? Use your magic to extend the handle of the probe.”

Why didn’t I think of that? She cast a morphing spell as she idly wondered if there was something about this realm making her dumber and Rainbow Dash smarter—and nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing happened. She put the probe away. “I can’t,” she said. “I wonder if this is what Discord meant.” But how could such a simple spell fail to work? What rule of this realm could possibly forbid it? “Our ten minutes is about up. Don’t want to worry the others.”

“Sure, we can come right back anyway.” They invoked the return spell and found themselves back where they started, in Twilight’s private library within her castle.

“Where’s Discord?” His absence was the first thing Twilight noticed. She frowned as she realized her questions about the magical field generated by those pills will have to go unanswered. At least that dispenser was still here.

Fluttershy said, “He felt he was no longer needed so he left.”

Pinkie Pie excitedly added, “But he knew you loved books so he left one behind for you!”

Twilight wondered what that was about but decided she didn’t have time for it now.

Rainbow Dash recounted their trip to everypony, as Twilight tried again to extend the probe’s handle—successfully this time. She made the handle as long as possible and still have it fit in her saddlebag, allowing the head of the device to poke out.

Applejack said, “Reckon ya made the right call to take only Rainbow Dash with you.”

Rarity added, “Imagine, our unicorn magic not working properly.”

“It’s better than not working at all, trust me.” Twilight walked over to the dispenser. “Ready to go back?” Rainbow Dash nodded. Twilight dispensed two more pills. “We’ll return to the exact spot we left.” Addressing everypony else, she said, “This time I expect we’ll be there a few hours.” They both swallowed their pills. The taste definitely needs improvement.

Both ponies were once again on top of that cloud. Rainbow Dash went airborne and looked around a bit, not that there was much to see here, while Twilight got down to business with her magic probe.

How far did the pill’s magic field extend? The devil was always in the details. Slowly, she moved the probe away from her. Once it got far enough away, the probe’s head would no longer be supported by her magic and will try to fall, creating a torque she will sense. And that’s exactly what happened when it was about two feet in front of her eyes.

She moved the probe around her body, looking for the boundary on all sides. The boundary appeared to form a bubble around her that loosely followed her form. A bubble is likely what it is; something needs to keep the magical field from spreading out to infinity. But it had to have a limited lifespan, otherwise Discord could have used it to encase The Mirror. Probably one of the reasons the pill’s magic supply couldn’t last very long.

She repositioned it so that its head was in front of her eyes just outside the bubble. Good, I can still read the display. No magic was registering. Not so good. She brought it back inside so that she could increase its sensitivity by turning a knob, then out again for another reading. Still nothing. She repeated several more times until, finally, something registered—extremely weak, almost undetectable, but definitely there. They had their work cut out for them.

“Rainbow Dash!” she shouted. “I got something!” As the pegasus swiftly returned to her side, Twilight noted that her rainbow contrail vanished a few feet behind her tail, right at the boundary of her bubble.

“It’s detecting magic, but it’s extremely weak,” she told her. “Let’s go to the coast over there for another reading.” The tops of the low mountains were poking above the clouds.

“Lead the way!”

Twilight first dived through the clouds so they could see the shoreline. It took only a few minutes to cross the miles of water separating them from land. The mountains abutting the shore were sparsely covered with vegetation, suggesting limited rainfall. Looking down she saw a road hugging the coast with tiny, shiny objects of some sort moving along it. Considering their altitude, they sure must be moving fast.

“Let’s go down.” Twilight started her descent to the road. Along the way, they crossed paths with some birds. They seemed much like the birds of home; they even flew the same way. Most birds do not use flying magic, she remembered. If only Fluttershy were here to talk to them—if she could talk to them. But they could walk on clouds, so who could say?

They were now low enough to make out the moving objects. Twilight recognized them. She pointed out one of the cars to Rainbow Dash and headed towards it. As fast as it was going, it was nothing for pegasi. They came up along one side of it and Twilight looked inside. She saw two of those bipedal creatures (people, humans), similar to but not quite the same as what she saw—and became—in that mirror realm. One of them was clearly operating the car. Neither of them noticed their presence.

Rainbow Dash was mystified. “How’s this thing moving? Nothing is pulling or pushing it! You sure there’s no magic?”

“It’s called a ‘car.’ I saw them in the mirror realm. I’m not sure how it works, but it doesn’t use magic. Look at the occupants inside.”

The pegasus lowered her head and looked through the window. “Whoa! Is that what you were?”

“Yep. Not quite like this, but then they’re not reflections of ponies.” Twilight wanted to take another reading. Pointing, she said, “Let’s land on that beach up ahead.”

It was a small beach but they had it all to themselves. If humans frequented beaches, they apparently preferred to do so when it was warmer and sunnier. Twilight got out the probe and took another reading. “It’s definitely stronger, though still very weak.” She put the probe away, as she said, “We should continue in the same direction.”

Rainbow Dash was at the water’s edge, staring off into the distance, as small, incoming waves lapped at her hooves. Twilight joined her as an incoming breeze ruffled their manes. The water was cold, though not unbearably so.

“How long would it take to fly to the other side?”

Twilight had no answer to give her. “We should get going.”

They took off and headed inland, leaving the ocean behind, following what appeared to be a river valley, though no water was currently flowing. After a mile the vegetation started to get thicker, with numerous small trees. Occasionally they saw a well-maintained dirt trail. To keep going in a reasonably straight line they eventually had to climb over a thousand feet.

After about ten miles, they encountered a valley where the trees were much larger, some over two hundred feet tall. There were also buildings, roads, cars, and plenty of people walking about. Twilight decided it was as good a spot as any to take another reading. They landed on the roof of a building.

First things first. Twilight got out the probe and took a reading. “We’re definitely going in the right direction. Still have ways to go though.”

“Why do you think the trees are so much bigger here?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Can’t be a coincidence these buildings are here. Could it be a farm of some sort?”

Twilight looked around. “Doesn’t look like a farm. I don’t see any fruit on these trees.” She walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. “And these humans don’t seem to be working a farm.” They didn’t appear to be doing anything other than to walk around for no discernible reason.

Now that she saw a large number of them, Twilight noted patterns about their appearance that differentiated them from the mirror realm inhabitants. Most obvious was skin and hair color. The clothing seemed different too, in the sense that almost none bore anything that looked like a cutie mark. On the one hoof, without magic there shouldn’t be any cutie marks; but on the other hoof, the mirror realm people had them on their clothing despite the lack of magic. Come to think of it, that doesn’t really make sense, but then it was just a reflection of Equestria according to Discord.

Rainbow Dash had joined her. “They’re just walking around the trees on those dirt paths.” The paths were roped off from the trees. For some reason they weren’t allowed to get too close to the trees. “Let’s see where they’re going.”

“Wait a minute.” There were voices from the people below. Twilight tried to focus on one of the conversations, her ears swiveling to best extract it from the background noise. They were speaking Equestrian! Rainbow Dash obviously heard it too, her mouth agape. The two ponies looked at each other in disbelief.

“Am I imagining things?”

“No, I hear it too,” the alicorn assured her. The implications were mind-boggling. There’s no way this is a coincidence, but how is it possible? “Okay, let’s follow one of the paths.”

They took wing and flew over a path, high enough to avoid the humans. There didn’t seem to be much point to it. It was just a forest of really big trees. All the humans seemed to be doing was admiring the trees, but why?

“There’s a sign in front of that really big tree,” Rainbow Dash said, pointing it out. There were humans currently standing in front of it, so they hovered at a safe distance waiting for them to leave. Once they did, they landed in front of it.

Twilight gazed at the sign, making out letters, numbers, and words that were all too familiar. They can write Equestrian too? The sign stated that the tree was the “father of the forest,” 16 feet 10 inches in diameter and 250 feet high.

“I guess this is the biggest tree here?” said Rainbow Dash, as more humans approached. They went airborne before the humans could walk into them.

Twilight had many questions that lacked answers. “Do they come here just to visit these trees?” They circled the tree, spiraling higher and higher, examining it from all angles. “It certainly is a magnificent tree. I’m not sure if this species exists in Equestria.”

They hovered once they reached the top of the tree. Twilight wondered why the trees were so much bigger in this valley than the others. So many mysteries; if only they could ask the humans below. But even if they could turn off their invisibility—can we?—who knows how they’d react? “Let’s be on our way.”

The mountain range continued for another fifteen miles or so. An enormous valley opened up in front of them, jam-packed with civilization. The clouds did not penetrate this far inland; the sun was shining, clearly higher than it was earlier. They now knew it was late morning, that they had been heading east (presumably), and that in this realm the sun actually did rise without magic—somehow.

Far to the north they could see a large body of water surrounded by civilization on both sides as far as they could see. It was so much larger than any Equestrian city, including Manehattan. There was even a modest collection of skyscrapers, though nothing as tall as in Manehattan.

Twilight selected a building on which to land and take another reading. Like all the buildings here it was surrounded by paved roads on which cars travelled. Twilight observed how the cars took turns crossing an intersection. Somehow they knew when to go through without stopping and when they needed to stop. She regretted not having had the opportunity to be in a car in the mirror realm. They landed and she took another reading. “It’s still getting stronger.”

“What’s that!” Twilight became aware of a distant noise as Rainbow Dash pointed at what resembled a gigantic bird. It was descending towards where those tall buildings were, moving quite fast even by pegasi standards, and it was getting louder and louder.

“Is it made of metal?” asked Twilight. It looked shiny. “I think that’s a machine.”

“No magic, huh? It’s not even moving its wings.”

“Just one more mystery, I guess.” Maybe it was gliding in to a landing, but what’s causing that dreadful noise? Twilight folded her ears to muffle it, but the humans around them were simply ignoring it. “Let’s stay focused,” she verbally reminded herself. “We can explore this realm once we take care of the hole.”

They continued flying east across the valley, amazed at the sheer number of buildings, cars and people. Their passage went unnoticed, as expected, even when they flew near the ground to get a good look at the inhabitants and buildings. A metal bird flew noisily overhead every few minutes, almost always on the same path.

Every so often, they landed on top of a building to take another reading. In time, the magical field started getting weaker. They first back tracked, then tried going north. They were rewarded with stronger readings.

They flew past the spot where the metal birds were landing, staying a safe distance away. The machines landed at high speed on wheels before slowing to a crawl. Others were accelerating to take off, always heading north. How they accelerated was a complete mystery, though it certainly involved a lot of noise, as was how they left the ground and rapidly climbed without ever moving their wings. However it was done, humans presumably traveled great distances this way.

With ever more frequent changes in direction, they closed in on the hole. Once the magical field strength got high enough, she decided it was time to use the flow meter. She got it out of her saddlebag and set it down on the roof they had landed on. “Stand back,” she told Rainbow Dash. It had to stay outside of their bubbles. That made it hard to read the meters, but the compass-like needle was large enough to see clearly from several feet away. It was pointing away from a large, two-story apartment complex. After the device was put away, the two flew off in the indicated direction.

Hovering in front of building, Twilight once again used her magic probe. “We’re definitely getting close.” So close, they almost didn’t need their bubbles anymore. The flow meter couldn’t point up or down—I need to fix that—so she relied on the probe to determine where on the wall the field strength was at a maximum. That was in front of a second floor window. It was quite large, being sized for humans. The two ponies hovered in front of it, looking in through the open curtains. It was an office of some sort, currently unoccupied.

“It appears to be inside.” Twilight put away the probe. “I’ll teleport us in.”

Once inside they looked around. Twilight examined a desk, way too big for a pony, with a mechanically elaborate chair that was clearly designed for humans. On the desk Twilight recognized a computer, having used one in the mirror realm. Could they be made in Equestria? Would they even work in Equestria? They were rather useful.

“No. Way.”

Twilight was startled out of her train of thought. She turned and saw Rainbow Dash hovering in front of a bookshelf (books!) looking at—that’s not possible. She flew up to join the pegasus and get a closer look. There was no mistake. It was a doll of a gray pegasus, wings flared, with a blonde mane and tail. The eyes and cutie mark were unmistakable. Derpy.

“No. Way.”

They both turned to the source of that exclamation to discover it came from a female human standing in the doorway. She was staring at them in disbelief, mouth hanging open, a hand fidgeting behind her head.

Twilight briefly stopped flapping her wings. “You can see us?”

After a second or two, the female weakly replied, “And hear you, T-Twilight.”

What happened to their invisibility! How long have they been visible? What trick did Discord pull on them? Wait. “You know my name?”

For some reason the human didn’t know how to answer that simple question. Twilight tried to interpret her body language. Assuming there was any similarity to pony body language, and her experiences in the mirror realm showed that there should be, she would have to conclude that the human was shocked at seeing them—and obviously not because she had no idea what they were.

“Might as well,” the human said, seemingly granting herself permission to tentatively accept the reality of what she was seeing. “Yes, I know your name, Princess Twilight Sparkle.” She paused for a second, scrutinizing the lavender pony. “Yep, alicorn, definitely princess.” Looking at the pegasus, she said, “Yours too, Rainbow Dash.”

Twilight found the presence of mind to start a checklist of mysteries to solve. (1) How could she possibly know this much about us, anything about us? That was quickly followed by (2) Given that she does, why does she act like she’s seeing the impossible? Speaking of names… “May I ask what your name is?” she asked politely.

The female—woman, she recalled—in front of her again seemed torn between possible answers. Twilight used those seconds to study her further. Compared to the other women she had observed so far, this one appeared to be average in height and build, with light skin tone and brownish hair that was long enough to reach past the shoulders. There was no hint of anything resembling a cutie mark on her clothing. (3) Do they have cutie marks at all? Lacking magic, it was unlikely, but maybe there was a non-magical equivalent.

The sudden sound of running water jolted the woman to a decision. “Fair enough, I suppose,” she said in a hurry. “My name’s Meg. I’ll be back in a second.” She quickly left the room.

“What just happened?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Wish I knew,” Twilight shrugged. One thing seemed certain: this ‘Meg’ was going to return with another human. And there was still the hole to find, apparently somewhere in their home. They needed to get past the introductions and get their assistance. It should help if they already knew who they were. Could the magical field somehow have given them knowledge of the ponies? Absurd as that sounded, what other explanation was there?

Twilight’s musings were interrupted by approaching voices. “Just tell me what you see…” Meg’s voice insisted. This time a man appeared in the doorway. Upon seeing them, he, too, stood there in wide-eyed disbelief. “Well?”

“D-do I have t-to?” he stammered.

“Yes.”

Again, Twilight wondered how they could simultaneously know who they were yet refuse to believe their senses.

The human male sighed in resignation. “I see Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash hovering in our office.” He turned away from them. “This can’t be happening.”

This seemed as good an opportunity as any to address her checklist items. “Why can’t this be happening?”

“Great,” the man said. “You also sound like Twilight.”

(1a) How could they possibly know what we sound like? She noticed that her fellow pony was too stunned herself to say anything. Just as well; this situation called for her diplomatic training. How would Celestia handle this?

His apparent mate slipped past him to enter the room, holding—oh, great, as if it weren’t weird enough already—a Pinkie Pie doll. “Because you are fictional characters created for the purpose of selling dolls like this to little girls,” she declared, as if that would be sufficient to banish them from reality.

Rainbow Dash broke out in laughter. Pointing a hoof to her chest, she proclaimed, “I’m too awesome to be fictional!”

Twilight face-hoofed. Not what Celestia would do. She became aware of what she was doing. She wouldn’t face-hoof either. The newest princess stopped face-hoofing and put on her best diplomatic face. “For now, could you accept that we are happening and hold a conversation with us?” She looked at them expectantly.

Meg sighed. “Why not.” She leaned back against a wall. “We can’t both be crazy,” she muttered.

Her mate also entered the room and stood beside her. Twilight noted he was several inches taller, had short black hair with slightly darker skin, and was also average looking, based on her limited experience with humans. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” the man said. I need to get his name. “I mean, it’s a fantasy-come-true to actually meet you, but why are you trespassing in our home?”

(4)—no, make that (1b)—a fantasy-come-true to meet us?

She didn’t like being accused of trespassing, not that she could blame them for feeling that way. Of course, they should never have been aware they were there in the first place, but, well… she will deal with Discord later.

So she explained to them, as they attentively listened, that magic was pouring out of her realm into theirs and that the exit point was somewhere in their home. They were there to find the precise location of the hole and, somehow, plug it. Any assistance they could offer would be appreciated. Would they want anything in return? So long as it was within reason…

“Wow… sounds like a two-part season finale.”

“Whaa?” (4) What’s a season finale? (4a) Why would it have parts?

“I guess it’s my turn now.” The man walked over to the desk, after first motioning the ponies to move out of his way. He sat down, woke up the computer and started typing with those hands and also moving—what was that?—oh, right, a mouse. He turned the monitor so the ponies would have an unobstructed view.

Twilight saw a drawing of a crowd of ponies in front of the snow-covered Town Hall, with Mayor Mare up front addressing them. They were all caricatures, with oversized heads, shortened barrels and ludicrously large eyes, but nonetheless she could identify many of the ponies. Oddly enough, they were all wearing the winter wrap-up uniforms from a few years back—her first winter wrap-up in Ponyville if she wasn’t mistaken. But where are all the stallions?

“This is sort of like a movie,” he explained, “though technically it’s called a cartoon. I’m about to play my favorite musical number.”

Musical number? No music was played during winter wrap-up activities, nor has a bridleway musical ever been written about it—as if those Manehattanites could care enough about a small rural town to write one. This should be interesting. Rainbow Dash looked skeptical, but Twilight was somewhat aware of what these computers could do.

Twilight heard a click and everything in the drawing started to move; there was also sound. The mayor started her motivational speech, then there was a cut to the crowd and she saw herself jumping high trying to catch the mayor’s attention. Wait. What?! She watched as she saw herself worrying about which team to join, and there was Rainbow Dash and Applejack leading their respective teams. That happened. Maybe some of the details were off, but nothing important.

The screen went dark. A spotlight revealed Rainbow Dash, who started to sing. Three months of winter— “Me, singing? I can’t sing!”

A few seconds later, Twilight had the same reaction. “Me neither!”

“Besides, nopony breaks out into song like that in real life.”

“Season 4, episode 8, Rarity Takes Manehattan,” the man said reflexively.

Rainbow Dash gave him a blank stare. “Say what now?”

He paused the video. “You said something like that in that episode, after you got tickets to the Bridleway show Hinny of the Hills and right before Rarity broke out in song.”

The pegasus was silent for a few seconds. “I remember the tickets and saying something like that,” she said, “but Rarity did not sing. I mean, she can sing, she’s in the Ponytones, but not then. That’s absurd. Right, Twilight?”

“That’s how I remember it.” This was surreal. She then realized that the ponies in the cartoon sounded exactly like them. That takes care of (1) and (1a). (1b) also, now that I think about it. Oh, and (2) as well. She felt like she was forgetting something… oh right. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”

“Steve, and this is my wife, Meg,” he replied. Twilight gave back a practiced smile. “Getting back to this, are you saying winter wrap-up isn’t real?”

Rainbow Dash reacted as if someone just claimed rainbow waterfalls didn’t exist. “Of course it’s real! The southern birds don’t fly back all by themselves! But we don’t make a musical out of it!” Getting that out of her system, she reconsidered. “Though I have to admit it was a catchy tune and I was awesome singing it—even if it never happened.”

“I’m sorry if that sounded like a stupid question,” he explained, “but we don’t know how much these cartoons reflect your reality. You can hardly blame us for taking advantage of this opportunity.”

Twilight could hardly fault them. “I wouldn’t mind finding out either, for obvious reasons.”

Steve resumed the video. They came to the part where Applejack was singing about farming. Rainbow Dash found something else to jump on. “Everyone ain’t a word.”

The remainder of the musical played without interruption. In a following scene, Twilight offered to help Rainbow Dash clear out the clouds The pegasus flapped her wings to point out that the unicorn lacked them. “Sorry, Twilight,” said the onscreen Rainbow Dash, then off she flew.

The two friends looked at each other. That did happen, and Twilight knew that the next scene, in which she attempted to help Rarity make bird nests, also (embarrassingly) happened. “That’s enough.” It was a lot to take in. It was also a distraction from their mission, though perhaps a necessary one. “Apart from the musical, it’s disturbingly accurate.”

“There’s one more scene I want your opinion on.” Steve turned the screen back to himself, typed and clicked some more, then turned the screen back to the ponies.

They watched as Twilight rewrote the unfinished masterpiece of Star Swirl the Bearded, then cast it. Beams of light erupted from the Elements of Harmony and converged on Twilight, who vanished to the shock of the others. The present Twilight’s eyes went wide as she watched her encounter with Princess Celestia in the starry realm. Being told it was time for her to fulfill her destiny. Her transformation into an alicorn. Celestia informing everypony she was now a princess. “STOP!”

Never had she shared what happened up there, not even with her friends, nor did they expect her to. It was a deeply personal memory. Shock was turning to anger. How could they possibly have this? What else did they have? What do I tell Princess Celestia?

The human stopped the video.

Rainbow Dash looked at her friend, surprised at the anger on her face. She cautiously asked, “Did that actually happen? Apart from the singing…”

Trying hard to keep her voice level, Twilight replied, “Even the singing. Celestia wanted to show me how much it meant to her.”

“I had no idea this would upset you, please believe me.” He, too, saw the anger on her face, and it was starting to scare him.

Twilight struggled to get her emotions under control. She told herself that these two humans were not responsible for this; don’t take it out on them. They could even be of help. It wouldn’t hurt to have locals aiding them. Remember why they were here. What would Celestia do?

She said, finally, “You are not to blame.” Looking into their eyes, she added, “Having said that, you must understand we do not live our lives for your entertainment.”

Meg glanced at the doll she was holding, looking as if she was about to say something, but she remained silent.

“Now, if you don’t mind, we have a mission to accomplish.” Twilight got the magic flow meter out of her saddlebag. Steve and Meg stared at the lavender glow of her horn and the glow surrounding the manipulated object. Surely they’ve seen this countless times in that cartoon? But then they’re seeing something right in front of them that’s supposed to be impossible in their realm.

Twilight switched it on, set it on the floor, and stepped back. As she waited for the measurements to settle, she collected her thoughts. She should not have nearly lost control like that. The humans were actually becoming scared of what she might do to them, and she was willing to bet they knew what an alicorn could do. Her mentor would not approve. She had to do better.

It was pointing towards the window. In the opposite direction was Meg. Probably on the other side of the wall. Twilight put the flow meter back, took out the magic probe and looked for the boundary of her bubble. That’s odd, I can’t seem to find it. She examined the readings more closely. So that’s why we’re visible: the bubble’s gone. She didn’t notice because of all the magic from the hole. Discord had some explaining to do. At least she didn’t have to worry about conserving her magic.

Twilight followed the probe as she moved it towards Meg, following the increasing gradient. The humans had been watching quietly, fascinated, but eventually Meg noticed where the probe was heading. Somewhat nervously, she asked, “May I ask what you’re doing?”

The alicorn put her measurements on hold. “Of course you may,” she assured her. Here was an opportunity to repair any damage. She took a deep breath. “I apologize for nearly losing it a few minutes ago, but… well… the implications of what you showed us were… troubling.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Meg quickly said. “We didn’t think about how you’d react. It could have been handled better.”

Twilight had no reply to that. It wasn’t clear how one would sugar-coat the fact that the most private moments of her life were considered entertainment here. But it wasn’t productive to dwell on it right now. Answering Meg’s question, she said, “I’m measuring the strength of the magical field looking for the hole. It seems to be near you.”

Meg was still holding the Pinkie Pie doll. What are the odds? Silly question. The probe moved close to the doll as Meg held it away from her body. Twilight moved the probe all around it, from top to bottom, front to back, side to side. All around it, the field was many times normal strength. With resignation, she said, “The doll is the exit point.”

Rainbow Dash flew to the doll, hovering for a close view. “She’s not even here and she’s still being Pinkie Pie!”

“Our doll?” Meg said, staring at the pegasus hovering so close to her. “How is that possible?”

Twilight thought: you mean you didn’t watch my scientific investigation of Pinkie Sense? What she said was: “I haven’t a clue. The more important question is how to stop the flow of magic.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Meg.

Was there anything they could do to help? Twilight put the magic probe away as she pondered that. Hold on to the doll, obviously. Where else would she take it? She couldn’t bring it back to Equestria; the hole would almost certainly stay behind and become unanchored, freely floating about. What if it went deep underground? She couldn’t simply destroy the doll for the same reason. Even teleporting with the doll may be unwise. Any information they could provide about this realm would be useful too.

Well, she thought, I guess I’m stuck with them for a while. But how far could she trust them? And what would they want in return?

“I’d appreciate any help you can offer, but I do have a few conditions.” They patiently waited for her to continue. “First, you will not mention our presence to anypo—anyone else.” They nodded agreement, though Rainbow Dash shot her a mystified look upon hearing “anyone.”

“Second, you will not say anything about the magic flowing out of that doll, or about the significance of that doll in general.” They nodded to that too.

“Third, you will keep an eye out for anything unusual. Your home now has a strong magical field, something that’s not supposed to exist in this realm. I don’t know if anything unusual will happen, but any observations would be useful data.”

“You mean like talking cartoon ponies suddenly showing up?” Steve deadpanned.

Touché. “Uh, sure…” But then the hidden assumption behind that statement dawned on the alicorn. Wait, ponies don’t talk here? She quickly shook her head to clear that thought. Never mind, later… “Finally, you will Pinkie Promise to these three conditions.” They ought to know what that means; their reaction should be most informative.

“If we don’t?” asked Meg quietly.

“I’ll take possession of the doll and move it elsewhere,” Twilight flatly stated. “You shall have no further involvement.” The list of conditions was perfectly reasonable, in Twilight’s opinion, so their hesitation was evidence that they did know what a Pinkie Promise was and took it seriously.

The two humans looked at each other, came to an unspoken agreement, then started in unison. “Cross my hear—”

Twilight interrupted them. “Not to me, to Pinkie Pie herself.”

“You mean this doll?” asked Meg dubiously.

Rainbow Dash flew over to Twilight and gave her the are-you-crazy look. Twilight ignored her; she’ll explain later.

“When I come back, I’ll have Pinkie Pie with me. You do know the consequences of breaking a Pinkie Promise?”

They nodded. Meg spoke for both of them. “Okay, we’ll do it.”

Rainbow Dash looked at them and rolled her eyes. Twilight couldn’t help but notice that the humans were amused by her antics, though they tried to hide it. They expect this sort of behavior from Rainbow Dash. She followed that line of thought to its logical conclusion: They know what to expect from me.

“I think we’re about done here. Before we leave, would you mind if I take a look at your books and possibly borrow one or two? I’d like to learn more about this realm. It may help in figuring out a solution.”

“Loan a book to Princess Twilight Sparkle?” he said tongue-in-cheek. “It would be an honor! I know just the one.” Steve picked out a book and handed it to her. Twilight accepted it with her magic as she grimaced ever so slightly. At least they weren’t bowing to her, even in jest. The book was too big to fit in her saddlebag; it was human-sized like everything else here.

Meg hesitantly asked, “May I ask a favor in return?”

“I’m listening.” So long as it’s within reason…

“Could you bring Derpy here for us to meet?” Twilight didn’t expect that!

Rainbow Dash snorted. “That featherbrain?” She flew over to the doll and stared at it. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, but, really?”

Meg didn’t seem surprised by that reaction. “You may be surprised how popular she is over here.”

Popular? This realm is full of surprises. What to do? Twilight couldn’t just say “yes” and if necessary force Derpy to come. Even if she was willing, was it the right thing to do? But it didn’t seem constructive to just flat out refuse either. Twilight decided to give a non-answer for now. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll consider it.”

Rainbow Dash gave her another are-you-crazy look.

“So Daring Do is out of the question?”

Twilight’s mouth hung open, too flabbergasted to respond, but Rainbow Dash, thank Celestia, was not. “Daring Do doesn’t like meeting her fans—and leave it at that.”

Thank Luna too, they seemed to accept that at face value, as if they knew what that tomb raiding, treasure hunting pegasus was like. For hay’s sake, they seemed to know she wasn’t just a fictional character. That wasn’t common knowledge and “A. K. Yearling” wanted it that way. More of those cartoons? Whatever, I’ve had enough for one day. “We’ll be back here tomorrow, same time. Okay?”

Meg and Steve briefly consulted with each other. “Works for us.”

Twilight laid the book on her back and held it there magically, then she looked at Rainbow Dash. She’s had enough too. “Let’s go.” They both clicked their rear hooves three times, and thought, there’s no place like home.

4. Realities

Spike was in the kitchen upstairs making daffodil sandwiches, with pickles just the way Twilight liked it. The baby dragon figured they would be hungry when they got back from all that adventuring. Everypony else had left a few hours ago, shortly after Twilight and Rainbow Dash had departed.

“Pinkie Pie? Derpy?”

They’re back! What about Pinkie and Derpy? As Spike listened in to the argument downstairs, he fetched his pre-written note and breathed green fire on it, sending it on its way. He then made his way to the curved stairway along the wall.

“We can use their help and indulging them will help us get it,” Twilight patiently explained. “Where would I even keep that doll? I can’t risk bringing it here or destroying it. Besides, a Pinkie Promise is a good insurance policy if you ask me.”

“You don’t even know she can enforce it there!”

“They don’t know she can’t,” she said, as she walked over to her desk, with the pegasus hovering right behind her. “It’s enough they think I believe she can.”

That was evidently a little too complicated for Rainbow Dash to parse. “Well… what about Derpy? She did drop a piano on you once, in case you forgot.”

“You know I was investigating Pinkie Sense at the time.” She levitated the human book onto her desk. “I already had a shield up by then, so no harm done. Being chased by that hydra was much worse.” By now, her saddlebags were also on her desk. “Besides, that’s all ancient history,” she concluded.

Rainbow Dash had run out of objections, and in the silence that followed Twilight’s anxiety resurfaced. “What do I tell Celestia about all this?”

“Uh, Twilight?” The two ponies looked up at Spike, who was halfway down the stairs. “She’s on her way now.”

“What!?” Sheer terror gripped the alicorn’s face.

“After you left, she sent me a note asking me to inform her when you returned.”

Twilight was really starting to freak out, nervously hopping on her hooves. She’s so good at it, Spike thought, what with all the practice she’s had. “Did you accidentally make the hole bigger or something?” he speculated.

That caught Twilight off guard, interrupting her anxiety attack. She stopped her nervous hopping and took a breath. “No… no, nothing like that. We actually made a little progress on that front.”

At that moment, Princess Celestia teleported into the library.

Everypony bowed to the Solar Diarch. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, you should know by now you do not need to bow before me,” she kindly reminded her.

“Sorry…” she sheepishly said as she stood up. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to check up on me so soon. You wrote that you trusted my judgement.”

“And I do trust your judgement,” she assured her, “but this isn’t one of my tests. With the future of Equestria at stake, I am obligated to stay on top of the situation and offer what guidance I can.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Discord informed me of the assistance he provided.” She pointed to the dispenser, now on a top shelf. Spike figured it would be best if it was out of the way. “Those are the pills?”

“Yes,” Twilight replied with some bitterness. “They worked, though Discord couldn’t restrain himself from pulling a prank on us.”

Celestia was surprised by that. “Are you certain?”

“Our invisibility went away, making us visible to two of the inhabitants of that realm while inside their home.”

“Would that happen to be where you found the hole?”

Twilight’s mane was getting quite frazzled by now. Clearly, she had already had one too many surprises that day. What had happened in that other realm to do this to her?

“How did you guess?” she weakly said.

“It was my understanding that the pill could not generate a contained magical field in the presence of a sufficiently strong ambient magical field. Didn’t you read the instruction manual? It was uncharacteristically orderly of him to—” Twilight face-hoofed. “…is something wrong?”

“I didn’t know that was an instruction manual.”

Celestia changed the subject. “Tell me about your contact with the natives. Unplanned it may have been, but I hope it was fruitful.”

“We did learn much from them and they are willing to help us.” Twilight gave her report. Spike was amazed at what he heard. Dolls of Equestrian ponies? Cartoons that accurately showed what happened here? But with musicals? Hard restrictions on unicorn magic? Similarities but also differences to the mirror realm? The popularity of Derpy? Spike wondered if he was popular there, too. Maybe I’ll get to go there and find out!

Celestia took it all in without interrupting, barely reacting only when Twilight described watching her ascension in that cartoon.

Having concluded her report, Twilight now sought guidance. “Do you think it’s a good idea to bring Pinkie Pie or Derpy there?”

Rainbow Dash did not, if her scowl was any indication. Celestia took a moment to compose her response. “I think you are practicing the art of diplomacy, as a princess should. It has its risks and rewards; the rewards ought to outweigh the risks.”

“I think that’s true for Pinkie Pie, but I’m not sure about Derpy. It’s a lot to ask of her and I’m not sure she’s up to it.”

Rainbow Dash added, “Let’s just say she’s not the brightest pony around.”

“Perhaps she would benefit from rising up to the challenge? She did participate in the Equestria Games, if I recall.”

“I suppose. It certainly would be nice to know why she’s so popular there. I’ll sleep on it.” Twilight lifted a huge book. “This is the book Steve loaned me.” She flipped through the pages. “It describes the physics of their realm.” She quickly scanned a page at random. “I definitely must read this. I’d sure like to know how their Sun moves without your magic—any magic!”

“I could sleep in late if it could be applied here,” joked the Princess of the Sun, but her demeanor then became serious. “There is a possibility these humans may wish to come here.”

Twilight looked up at her mentor. “If they do, is the correct answer to allow it?”

“As I said, this isn’t a test,” Celestia said in a sympathetic tone. “There is no right or wrong answer, just difficult choices. All things being equal, I’d prefer they stay in their realm; but having said that, I leave it up to you.”

Celestia bowed to Twilight, emphasizing the point; the others quickly followed suit. She then teleported away as Twilight nervously shifted her weight from hoof to hoof. Spike felt sympathy for her. She hates it when Celestia does that.

“I’m sure glad I don’t have to make those decisions,” said Rainbow Dash.

Nor I, thought Spike. Clearly Princess Celestia wants Twilight to take the next step in being a princess.

Twilight decided to change the subject. “Spike, by any chance do you have something for us to eat? I could use some food right now.”

“You know I do!”

“Did that just happen?” Meg blankly stared at the spot just occupied by two ponies.

“Uh… well…” Shifting his eyes to the bookshelf, her husband observed, “The physics book I loaned her is still gone.”

There was silence for several seconds. Meg put the doll on the desk and walked over to where the ponies had been. “I guess we can’t both hallucinate the same thing,” she said with a lack of conviction. She got on her hands and knees and started to carefully examine the off-white carpet.

“What do you expect to find?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’d shed a feather or some fur,” she said as she continued her search. Cyan and lavender hairs ought to stand out. After fruitlessly inspecting several square feet, she said, “We should’ve taken a picture.”

“Not that that would convince anyone,” Steve said. “We’d simply be praised for the photorealistic CGI skills we’d suddenly acquired.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And criticized for giving them realistic proportions.”

“Yeah, well, if they really had eyes that big, there’d be no room left in their skulls for their brains,” she said as she continued searching. “Anyway, the pictures would be for us. It’d be some kind of proof we’re not crazy.” She got up off the floor. “I can’t find anything.” Unnecessarily dusting herself off, she said, “Besides, sharing those pictures would break our upcoming Pinkie Promise.”

“There you go,” he said. “We’ll have our proof when they show up tomorrow.”

There was silence as that sank in. “Wow. Pinkie Pie will be here.” Meg stared at the doll. “Could she possibly be as she’s portrayed in the show?”

“The evidence suggests it,” Steve reasoned, folding his arms. “Twilight and Rainbow Dash are as portrayed. There’s such a thing as a Pinkie Promise. They refer to Derpy and Daring Do in ways that are consistent with the show. We know that Winter Wrap-up is real, that Twilight’s ascension happened more or less as depicted.” He took a breath. “And don’t forget their reaction to discovering that the doll was the other side of their ‘hole.’”

Meg said, trying to mimic Rainbow Dash, “She’s not even here and she’s still being Pinkie Pie!” She started slowly pacing back and forth across the room, trying to digest it all. “It’s all real. It’s a brony dream come true. But why our doll, out of all the dolls in the world? Why any doll, never mind a Pinkie Pie doll?”

There was no answer to that; it was obvious the ponies had no answer to that. Steve watched his wife pace for a few moments in silence. “Would you go there if you could?”

She stopped pacing and looked at him. “To Equestria, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” she said, stating the obvious. “Too bad Twilight wasn’t handing out visa applications.”

Steve went over and picked up the doll, holding it out. “Luckily we’re in possession of a Pinkie Pie doll that is spewing out magic like there’s no tomorrow,” he said half-seriously. “Maybe there’ll be a random cosmic accident that mysteriously transports us to the Everfree Forest. We’ll be attacked by timberwolves, or maybe manticores, and just in the nick of time the Mane Six will show up to save us and become our instant best friends, dedicated to making our Equestrian fantasies come true!”

“Really?” she retorted.

“Who knows?” he said with a straight face. “There’s enough fan fiction that follows that formula. Maybe there’s something to it.”

Meg wasn’t interested in playing that game. “One small problem… we’ve already met two of them and the self-proclaimed Princess of Friendship did not become our friend, ‘instant’ or ‘best’ or otherwise.”

“Isn’t that a little unfair?”

“Is it? I think the whole Pinkie Promise business says it all. She sees us as a nuisance, to be tolerated only out of necessity. You weren’t there, but her first words made it clear she thought she was invisible. They never intended to deal with us natives.”

Steve mulled that over. “Maybe so, but she’s still willing to make lemonade out of lemons. She is asking for our help.” He shrugged. “Perhaps season four didn’t happen yet?”

“Sure, why not?” she said mockingly. “Plenty of fan fiction ignores the later seasons, after all. Twilight’s an alicorn, so at least season three happened.” She resumed pacing, reconsidering. “Seriously, though. What if that was true? How do we even find out without potentially altering the future? We can’t just ask, ‘Have you fought Tirek yet?’”

Steve went up to her and held her. “Let’s just take it one step at a time and see what happens tomorrow, okay? If we’re lucky, we can even put fan-fiction-consensus to the test.”

“Huh?”

“The consensus is that Derpy is a mailmare. Maybe we’ll get to ask her ourselves.”

The hours flew by as Twilight buried herself in the borrowed physics book. It focused on breadth rather than depth, including, amongst many others, topics such as particle dynamics, conservation laws, fluid mechanics, kinetic theory of gasses, thermodynamics, electromagnetism, and optics. Most of it was already familiar to her, allowing her to breeze right through the chapters. She noted that they had mathematical notation in common too; the equations were just as comprehensible as the words.

There were only two notable differences between this book and an Equestrian equivalent. The first was that they frequently used names that were similar to but different from the ones she was familiar with. It’s like they were parodying them, replacing syllables such as “mare” or “neigh” or “oats” and the like with apparently arbitrary sequences of letters. “Newton” instead of “Neighton?” What sort of cosmic joke was being played here?

The second was the assumption that the equations provided described reality unconditionally, no exceptions even being conceivable. An Equestrian physics book would devote much attention to how magic could modify those equations—or make them irrelevant. This was a book on physics for a realm that had no magic.

But the final chapters blew her mind. Twilight had never encountered anything resembling Relativity and Quantum Mechanics before. The structure of reality implied at absurdly small or absurdly large scales was just… hard to swallow. Did any of it apply here? Was it a consequence of the absence of magic? Did ponydom’s understandable preoccupation with magic blind them to other avenues of research? Was this how their machines could do stuff impossible to even the most powerful magic?

It was getting late. Only Owlowiscious kept her silent company, Spike having gone to bed a while ago. “I should call it a night,” she told him. “I have a full day tomorrow.” The owl blinked in reply.

Twilight took one last look at her collection of notes and checklists she wrote up earlier, making sure she hadn’t forgotten to write down anything. Satisfied she had not, she extinguished the light and walked towards the stairway.

As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she thought about the humans. I didn’t exactly live up to being the Princess of Friendship, but what could I’ve realistically done differently? This was territory as uncharted as it gets and the stakes were too high. Could friendship be magic where magic doesn’t even exist? Regardless, she needed at least a working relationship with the humans for the foreseeable future. But once the hole has been plugged, then what?

The newest princess climbed into bed and slipped under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt slightly envious of a certain pegasus’ inability to overthink problems—but just slightly.

Twilight saw Sugarcube Corner in the distance and began her descent. Rainbow Dash had told her there was a good chance she’d find Derpy there most mornings. Pinkie Pie would be there too, obviously, as she lived and worked there.

Not yet skilled at multitasking while flying, Twilight had to choose between looking for Derpy or landing. It made her aware, again, of her need to get in lots of flying time—but then, that’s why she wasn’t walking to Sugarcube Corner. She choose landing.

Once on the ground, she quickly determined the pegasus wasn’t outside. She went inside and found Derpy ordering something from Pinkie Pie at the counter. Pinkie immediately noticed her.

“Hi, Twilight!” said Pinkie as she bounced and beamed. “When do we meet our biggest fans?”

How did she… never mind, that way lies madness, she groaned internally. Derpy turned around and saw her.

“Princess!” she said, as she quickly bowed.

Twilight still wasn’t used to that. At least it didn’t happen much in Ponyville, where everypony remembers when she was just a pony like everypony else. That castle, though, was starting to have an effect.

“Hi, Derpy,” she greeted her cheerfully. “I’m here to talk to you, actually, and this concerns you, too, Pinkie Pie,”—her voice acquiring a slight edge—”though you seem to already know that… somehow.” She looked Pinkie in the eye, but of course that didn’t faze her.

“Just a hunch,” she chirped with a big smile.

Sigh… “Derpy, why don’t you finish ordering first. It’s on me.”

After she got a blueberry muffin, they all went into the back party room so they could talk in private. Mrs. Cake was quite understanding after Twilight explained she needed Pinkie’s services.

Although Derpy regularly delivered mail to her at the castle, Twilight had never before really held a conversation with the gray pegasus. She started off with small talk, asking Derpy about her job delivering mail and her participation in the Equestria Games. She did her best, as usual, not to pay too much attention to the pegasus’ eyes; it didn’t seem much of an impediment anyway. Derpy’s personality was as bubbly as her cutie mark.

But they weren’t there just for the smalltalk and Derpy was clearly getting nervous over the other horseshoe yet to drop; she wasn’t an idiot, despite what some might think. It was time to get down to business.

“About why I want to talk to you…” Twilight began. How am I going to explain this to her? “Before I say anything, I want to make it crystal clear you don’t have to do what I’m about to ask of you.”

“Okay?” Derpy said, her eyes slowly drifting apart.

“It involves traveling to an… exotic place. You’ll be there for a few hours, preferably this morning.” Pinkie started bouncing with excitement, but Derpy…

“Today?!” she exclaimed, the shock causing her eyes to suddenly realign. “I don’t think I can take the day off on such short notice.”

“Tomorrow is fine, too,” Twilight quickly assured her. “Regardless, I’ll take care of that. The mail service will be informed you are on royal business.” Spike already had the letter written and ready to go.

That impressed the gray pegasus, at first, but then common sense kicked in. “Why do you need me?”

Twilight could no longer beat around the bush. She looked briefly at Pinkie to let her know she needed to pay attention too. “We are going to another realm. The inhabitants there are not ponies; they’re not like anything we have here. We need their help with a serious problem. Two of them are willing to help and have agreed to Pinkie Promise to a set of conditions.” Looking at Pinkie, she said, “That’s why I need you to come along.”

At hearing the words “Pinkie Promise” the pink pony’s smile vanished. “They do know I take Pinkie Promises very seriously?”

“They do,” Twilight confirmed.

“Okay!” Pinkie said as her smile returned and her bouncing resumed.

Derpy was no less perplexed. “I still don’t get why you need me.”

Twilight was starting to regret ever getting the pegasus involved with this, but then Celestia’s words came back to her. She should have the opportunity to rise up to the challenge. “The two who agreed to help us have asked for a favor in return.” No turning back now… “They would like to meet you.”

Derpy blinked. “Meet me?” she asked hesitantly. “Why? How could they even know I exist?”

Twilight sighed. “They do. They know about all of us, myself included. I don’t really understand how it’s possible either. Just accept that it is. They’re such big fans, they even have dolls of each of you.”

“They have a Pinkie Pie doll?!” Pinkie practically exploded. “Does it talk? I’d love to have one that talks then I’ll always have somepony to talk to. But once I made many copies of myself and my copies could talk and that was no fun at all—”

Twilight stuck her hoof in her mouth. “Pinkie, please.” Derpy merely gave a small laugh at Pinkie being Pinkie.

“Sorry,” the pink pony giggled, “I got carried away. I do that sometimes!”

You think? Twilight looked at Derpy. “It’s your choice. You don’t have to do this.” She waited patiently for her answer.

“Let me get this straight…” That did not sound promising. “There are these mysterious ponies who really like me even though they’ve never met me and they want to meet me now and they aren’t in Equestria—they actually have a doll of me?”

“I know it sounds crazy—believe me, I know.” They weren’t ponies, but she didn’t bother correcting her. It was not looking good at all, not the way Derpy was looking creeped out. Not that I can blame her. Do they also have dolls of me?

“Where would they even get a doll of me?” she demanded.

Given her understanding of the situation, Twilight’s guess would be that they simply bought it at a store. Somehow, she doubted that would be a productive response to her question. “I don’t really know.” It technically was an honest answer.

Derpy slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Princess. My answer is ‘no.’”

Twilight waited as Pinkie Pie packed her saddlebags with various confections. Whether the humans will enjoy them—can even eat them—was an open question, one that would be answered soon enough. Regardless, she had advised Pinkie to avoid anything with hay or flowers.

The two went on hoof back to the castle. Once inside, they went straight to Twilight’s private library. Spike was there but not Rainbow Dash. Her absence was annoying; she was supposed to be there. Pinkie was fairly certain Dashie had to be in the castle somewhere, and on her hunch they first checked throne room. Sure enough, there she was, sitting smugly on her throne, insufferably pleased with herself.

“I can’t get enough of this awesomeness!” she said as they approached her.

Really, Rainbow Dash? thought Twilight with some irritation. That isn’t what these thrones are for.

“Do you think they have dolls of you too?” Pinkie Pie asked the smug pegasus.

Rainbow Dash was unprepared for that question. After giving it some thought, she said, “Why not? I’d make an awesome doll! I bet there’s a Twilight doll too.”

“Unicorn or alicorn?” asked Pinkie.

“Argh… let’s get going,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes, as she led them back to the library.

“What about a Spike doll?” Spike asked a little too casually.

“How about a castle play set?” suggested Pinkie.

Once in the library, Twilight lost no time in preparing for the trip. She put on her saddlebags, and into that Discord’s instruction manual. Yesterday, she had read it after dinner and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually quite thorough and organized. He really did make an effort to keep his chaotic nature under control. We ought to find some way to harmlessly indulge his chaos, she had thought as she put it into a saddlebag. Turns out those bubbles had some interesting features. The invisibility can be turned on and off, and the size of the bubble was adjustable too.

Twilight took four pills out of the dispenser and set them aside. She reminded Pinkie and Spike how the pills worked—and warned them about the taste. Twilight had everypony stand in a circle and for Spike to get on her back. A pill was levitated into the open mouth of each traveler. Once that was done, she thought of their destination and gave word for everypony to swallow their pill.

They were in the office in the home of the humans. Spike checked himself to see if he was a dragon or a dog, was satisfied he was still a dragon and hopped to the floor.

“I look so happy!” Pinkie Pie chirped. “Does it talk?”

The party pony happened to be facing her doll. Both dolls were left on the edge of a chair, evidently put there for their return. Twilight levitated them to the floor, got out her magic probe and checked the doll. “It’s still the exit point of the hole.”

“What are the odds it’d be my doll?” Pinkie innocently asked. A pin drop could be heard as they all stared at her. “Does it at least listen?”

“And there you are… again.” Meg was standing in the doorway, with her husband off to the side and behind her, still not quite believing her eyes. “I see you brought Pinkie Pie and also your number one assistant.”

Spike stood that much taller upon hearing his reputation preceded him. “She’d be lost without me!”

Twilight noticed that Steve was focusing his attention on something rectangular he was holding in his hand. He apparently touched it on the side she couldn’t see, and it made some kind of chirping sound in response. He then put it into a pocket. Did he just take a picture? Not that it matters if they go through with the Pinkie Promise. Maybe they just wanted proof they weren’t going crazy. She found she could actually empathize with their situation. Was it really that different when she herself discovered that Daring Do wasn’t fictional? But at least that pegasus wasn’t an impossible creature from a different realm.

“We’re still real,” Twilight tried to say flippantly. Might as well address the ursa minor in the room. “You’ve probably noticed Derpy isn’t with us. I did ask her, but I’m sorry to say she declined.”

Meg looked disappointed. “Oh.” She shrugged, saying, “Well, at least you tried.” She turned to Steve then back again. “Should we get the Pinkie Promise out of the way?”

That was her cue; Pinkie Pie was all business. The pink pony hopped on to a chair then on to the desk, the better to look them in the eyes. “Go for it, Twilight.”

Twilight adopted her best regal stance, flaring her wings, but decided against practicing her Royal Canterlot Voice, so as to not disturb the neighbors. “Do you, Meg and Steve, Pinkie Promise, first, that you have not already revealed our presence or our mission or the significance of that doll to other inhabitants of this realm, nor shall you do so; and, second, to not hinder our mission to stop the flow of magic into your realm?” Pinkie Pie’s stare was fixated on them now. To their credit, the humans stared right back at her, though not without some visible trepidation.

“We do,” they said in unison. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“Awesome! Pinkie Promise party!” she yelled, leaping for joy.

But oddly enough, Twilight noticed, there were no balloons or streamers—and no party cannon. Whatever the hay kind of magic Pinkie had, like unicorn magic it, too, was being impaired. Not that she seemed to notice or care. She emptied her saddlebag onto the desk, revealing various confections and one baby alligator.

“Gummy!” Pinkie scolded. “I said you couldn’t come!” But she just couldn’t stay mad at her pet baby alligator for long and gave him a hug. “But since you’re here, go enjoy yourself!” she said as she released him. Gummy stood there on his short, stubby legs, blinking first one eye then the other.

Steve carefully avoided Gummy as he reached for a chocolate cupcake. It seemed a bit small in his hand, having been made for ponies. He gave it a sniff, and satisfied that it smelled quite edible, took a small bite. “This really is delicious,” he said after savoring the taste. “From Sugarcube Corner, right?”

“That’s right!” beamed Pinkie Pie. “I made them myself.” She picked up a blueberry muffin and hoofed it to Meg. “By the way, this is Derpy’s favorite. I gave her one from this same batch like an hour ago.”

“Now that I gotta try!” But Meg didn’t take the muffin right away, instead scrutinizing how Pinkie was holding the muffin with her hoof. Lacking magic, Twilight contemplated, humans would find that curious.

After having satisfied her curiosity, Meg carefully grasped the muffin with finger and thumb and brought it to her mouth. She took a large bite. “Mmmmm.” For several seconds she masticated before finally swallowing. “I can see why.” The rest of the muffin quickly followed.

Having finished off the blueberry muffin, Meg looked over the remaining confections. “Ooooo.” Her hand reached out to pick up a cupcake with vanilla frosting with several—Twilight’s pupils shrank to pinpoints as she realized what they were.

“Don’t eat that!” she warned her. Meg looked at her questioningly. “That has gems in it.” That got Spike’s attention. He held out a hand, giving his best puppy dog eyes impression. It took only seconds for Meg to crumble.

“Okay, but only if you’ll show us how you send letters to Princess Celestia.” Spike eagerly nodded his head, and soon the sounds of crunching gems filled the room. Meg watched in fascination; the baby dragon was too focused on the cupcake to notice the attention.

Twilight gave Pinkie a harsh look. Pinkie shrugged. “You said no hay or flowers,” the pink pony said. “You didn’t say anything about gems!” There was no point in pointing out that ponies don’t eat gems either.

“You actually have cupcakes and muffins made with hay and flowers?” asked Steve.

“Well, duh!” Pinkie replied. “They add nice, savory flavors.”

“I’ll take your word for it. We humans can’t eat those things.”

Pinkie put a hoof to her chin. “Hmm… that must be why Twilight told me to not to bring those.”

Steve gave the alicorn a penetrating look. “Interesting. I wonder how you would know that.”

Twilight could not help feeling that he knew exactly how she would know that, but she had so far avoided mentioning The Mirror and its connection to the current situation, and she didn’t care to mention it now. “I have my ways,” she merely said.

Looking to quickly change the subject, Twilight remembered what Spike had agreed to in exchange for the cupcake. Could he do that here? That would be something worth finding out. Spike had finished the cupcake, so Twilight took out a sheet of paper and a quill and sent it over to the baby dragon. “Now it’s your turn to keep up your end of the agreement.”

After Spike grabbed the floating items out of the air, Twilight started dictating. “Princess Celestia, I am writing to you from the other realm, in Steve and Meg’s home, to see if it’s possible. They have Pinkie Promised as planned. Derpy decided not to come. Princess Twilight Sparkle.” The humans seemed impressed that she had talked to Celestia about them, which is what she was rather hoping for. I might be getting the hang of diplomacy.

Spike made a show out of rolling up the sheet of paper, holding it in the air and breathing his green flame onto it. The turned-to-smoke letter wandered aimlessly. It didn’t look promising. But then it settled on a direction, heading towards the Pinkie Pie doll, and upon reaching it, the smoke went into the doll and vanished.

“That looks promising,” Twilight commented. They all stared at the doll, as if waiting for it to come to life.

“Uh, should we be expecting an immediate response?” All heads turned to Twilight for an answer.

“It’s hard to say, Meg.” She could be tied up in some meeting.

“Well, while we’re waiting, could you answer a question about Derpy, since she couldn’t be here?”

Twilight quickly glanced at Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. Either of them would be better able to answer questions about her; neither seemed unwilling to do so. It would be interesting to find out what they wanted to know. “We can certainly try.”

Meg pulled up a chair in front of the ponies and sat down. “What’s her job?”

“She works for the Royal Equestrian Mail as a mailmare,” Twilight replied. A knowing smile blossomed on the woman’s face. She apparently expected that answer; why ask the question? “Her occupation was shown in the cartoon?”

“Not exactly… there was one episode where she was shown working for a pegasus delivery service but she dropped—uh… well she was never shown to be a mailmare.”

“Let me guess,” said Rainbow Dash as she gave Twilight as self-satisfied look. “A piano?”

“Among other things, yeah,” Meg confirmed. “Quite honestly, it looked rather fatal. How did you survive?”

Looked fatal? Huh? The former unicorn recounted what happened. “After a potted plant fell a few feet from me, I looked up, saw what was coming, and immediately raised a shield. Other than a minor bruise from a piece of that shattered pot, I was unharmed.” Oh, yeah… better make that point, too. “I don’t blame Derpy for what happened. I was investigating Pinkie Sense at the time.”

“She sure was!” confirmed Pinkie Pie. “We even got chased by a hydra!” Rainbow Dash just snickered.

“That’s interesting… in the show you made no attempt to shield yourself or even get out of the way.”

Twilight’s jaw went slack for several seconds. “I’m glad I’m smarter than that in real life.”

Meg responded with a quick, nervous smile. “Uh, speaking of the hydra, when you came to a chasm, and the hydra destroyed what sorta passed for a bridge, why didn’t you simply teleport across?”

“Uh… I did teleport.” It was farther than she had ever teleported before, and she was terrified to attempt it, and she hesitated until the last possible second, but she did teleport. Jumping would have been suicide. “What do you think I did?” she asked. That cartoon appears to be less than perfectly accurate.

“Well… you jumped, fell to the bottom, bounced off a giant mud bubble that happened to just form, and wound up on the other side.”

Twilight blinked. “Bounced off a giant mud bubble,” she droned.

“The bubble did burst after you bounced off it,” Meg sheepishly added. She looked at Pinkie Pie and Spike, knowing they witnessed the event, but they also blankly looked at her like she was spouting nonsense.

The alicorn slightly tilted her head. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m sure I’ve said sillier things!” protested Pinkie Pie.

Twilight had to suppress a chuckle as she looked at the offended earth pony. “Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, you certainly have.”

“We can show you the scene…”

Should I watch it? There was no reason to think they were making this up. Who could possibly make up stuff like this? It was bizarre how that cartoon could both be so accurate and yet… take poetic license with certain events. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

Nopony spoke. The silence was becoming awkward. I might as well explore this a little further. “Any other misconceptions I can clear up?” she tried to ask cheerfully.

The two humans looked at each other and, by some unspoken agreement, Steve went next. “What was the most recent major event to have happened in Equestria? Before this ‘hole,’ of course.”

Twilight pondered the purpose of that question. Obviously they wanted to determine how close the most recent cartoon is to the present. But why not just state the most recent event they know of? There’s no reason to keep that a secret; on the contrary, they’d want to know what has transpired since. Or—her eyes widened—they’re afraid they know our future! Is that even possible? Only one way to find out. “That would be the defeat of Tirek about two months ago.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That was the most recent episode. It aired a month ago.”

That kept things uncomplicated; Twilight hated time loops. She had to give them credit, though, for considering that. Bad as it was that they knew so much about their past, it’d be even worse if they knew their future! Twilight thought it prudent to gather more data points. “Anything else?”

“Well…” began Meg, “in the episode about the recent Equestria Games there seems to be a huge plot hole…”

Rainbow Dash said, “What do you mean?”

“The unicorn magic disabling spell…”

“To prevent cheating. What of it?”

“Surely Celestia did not have her magic disabled.”

“Duh, princesses were exempt, right, Twilight?”

“I did cast the spell to light the—” She looked at Spike.

“I’m past that,” he dismissed with a nonchalant wave of his claw. But then he began fidgeting with those claws. He must be realizing his faking of the Cloudsdale anthem was seen by many more than just the entire stadium. That was far more embarrassing. Terribly, painfully, soul-crushingly embarrassing. Oh, Spike…

Meg continued. “Then when that cloud was hit by an ice arrow, why did no princess do anything about it?”

“You honestly don’t know?” asked Twilight, genuinely surprised. That was hardly an insignificant detail…

“As it was shown, it never occurred to you or any other princess to do something about it. Nor do we know if Derpy placed or not in—what was it?—air sprinting?”

That made Rainbow Dash’s day. “Nopony tell them, got that?” she ordered. “It’s nice to know we got some secrets!”

“That includes you, Gummy,” warned Pinkie Pie, wagging her hoof at the baby alligator. Gummy stood there on his short, stubby legs, blinking first one eye then the other.

Eh, why not? They’re not entitled to know everything. “Let’s just say us princesses aren’t morons,” smirked Twilight. Nonetheless it gave her food for thought. That was an odd omission. It did make them look like idiots if that’s how it was portrayed.

“I guess you get to have some secrets,” Steve conceded half-jokingly.

Spike burped up a letter. He caught it and started reading it aloud. “Princess Twilight Sparkle. Apparently, we can communicate between realms. Give my regards to Meg and Steve. Princess Celestia.”

Twilight levitated it over to Steve. “You may keep this as a souvenir. You shouldn’t show it to others, though I suspect nopony would believe you if you did.”

“No, you’re quite right,” he mused, as he took hold of it. “Our sanity would be questioned if we claimed it was real.”

Rainbow Dash flew to the window and looked outside. “This trip down memory lane is nice and all, but I think I’m gonna fly around for a bit and see what’s out there. Twilight, could you teleport me outside?”

“Before you go…” The pegasus turned her head towards Steve. “Stay away from airplanes—flying machines. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, we saw those. Really noisy. How do they fly without magic? They don’t even flap their wings!”

“It’d take too long to explain. Just… stay away from them. Their engines—the noisy bits—can suck you in and kill you.” Rainbow Dash grimaced in response.

I hope she keeps her recklessness under control, even if “danger” is her middle name. The alicorn quietly sighed. Oh, who am I kidding…

“They leave behind a lot of air turbulence too.”

“Okay, sheesh, I get the message.” She looked out the window again. “Looks like the coast is clear. Twilight?”

“Coming,” she said as she flew over. They hovered, facing each other, front hooves touching. Her horn flashed brightly and they were on the other side of the window. Rainbow Dash broke contact, turned to face upwards and outwards, and with one powerful flap of her wings vanished, leaving behind a rainbow contrail—that ended after a few dozen feet, the point at which the magical field got too diluted to sustain it. Twilight teleported back inside.

The humans stood with their mouths open, not believing what they just saw.

“You two just broke so many laws of physics,” Steve said. “I can’t believe the universe let you get away with that.”

Twilight mulled that over for a moment. “We need to talk about that. There are some things I can’t do and I don’t understand why.”

5. Physics Kindergarten

Rainbow Dash flew east. Only a short distance she flew, until she reached that large, inland body of water. Her curiosity easily satisfied, she then headed south. Those big flying machines needed a closer look, and who better qualified than Equestria’s best flyer to do the looking? Without Twilight to slow her down, it would take but a few minutes to reach the spot where those “airplanes” arrived and departed.

She stayed within a few hundred feet of the ground, having noticed that those flying machines stayed far off the ground when not landing or taking off. Her keen eyesight spotted a few much smaller—and much quieter—flying machines, going off in various directions. But they were too slow; her interest was in big, fast ones.

Upon arriving the pegasus instantly noticed the long, thin roads the airplanes used. Soon it became apparent that they only appeared thin due to their length. Are they that big? At the far end, one of those machines was turning a corner onto that road. She quickly flew towards it, but stayed well off to the side, heeding Steve’s warning.

It really was that big. Equestrian airships may be that long, but they were mostly giant bags of gas. The most sophisticated and expensive used some levitation magic, but even those relied partially on lighter-than-air gasses. That long line of windows revealed that this machine was all passenger-carrying space. How could something so massive get off the ground? Yeah, it had wings, but there was a reason non-magical birds didn’t get very large. This thing was bigger than many adult dragons!

Once it had completed the turn, the airplane came to a complete halt and just sat there. What’s it waiting for? Rainbow Dash decided to get a close look. She headed towards the windows just above one of the wings to get a look inside. Those “noisy bits” weren’t very noisy at the moment, and since they were under the wing she figured she would be safe enough being above the wing.

There was no longer any doubt it was machine made of metal. As she passed over the wing, she could see the seams between the metal sheets comprising it. The whole structure had a precise curvature to it, but there were no joints, no way for the wing to flap.

After reaching the long, cylindrical body of the airplane, she peered inside a window. Humans were tightly packed together in closely spaced rows of seats. They didn’t look very comfortable. The flight must last a very short time for them to tolerate it. Rainbow Dash was glad she would never need to tolerate this.

Her ears flattened as they were assaulted by an ear-splitting noise. She then noticed the airplane was beginning to move, quite slowly at first, but steadily accelerating. As the wing passed under her, an intense heat radiated against her underside, forcing her to reflexively leap dozens of feet upwards. She looked down to see a superheated stream of air leaving that “noisy bit.” Steve wasn’t joking. It must be pushing the machine forward, as hard as it was to imagine something so massive being moved by merely blowing air out the back.

She moved far off to the side, if only to lessen the noise, but matched its speed. It wasn’t hard to do. Still, considering its size, it was impressive. And it was still accelerating. She looked down the road, eyeing the barrier at the end. It wouldn’t take long to reach if it kept speeding up like this. It had to be airborne by then. Her adrenaline started pumping. Let’s see just how fast and high these things can go.

The acceleration continued. It was now going what many pegasi would consider fast, yet it remained solidly on the ground. The barrier was seconds away. The increase in speed was relentless; it was committed. Suddenly the nose lifted up and it started to climb, rapidly, still gaining speed. Now it gets interesting. She followed as the airplane climbed several thousand feet, then started to bear left. It must have been going at least two hundred miles-per-hour, and it was still accelerating. Not many pegasi could do that, but Rainbow Dash was just getting warmed up.

A few minutes later they were over the ocean, at least a mile high and still climbing and still accelerating. The pegasus continued following. Presumably it was going to cross this ocean. How far did it have to go?

Still higher the machine climbed, gaining ever more speed. Nothing she couldn’t match—except for some reason it was becoming difficult to keep up. The air pushed back at her with increasing ferocity. Her wings pumped harder to compensate, but they became less effective with each beat. The airplane moved ahead, leaving her behind. She was slowing down! It was like—I’m running out of magic!

Panicking, the pegasus did her best to come to a halt as fast as possible. It would be suicide to return to the library while traveling at these speeds. Too late she realized that was a mistake, that she was rapidly using up what little magic she had left. The fail-safe triggered, putting her back in the library on a collision course with way too many books.

But she now had magic! Her wings produced thrust, bringing her to a halt just in time. She wiped her brow, exhaling. That was too close. Twilight would have killed her if she had gone splat against her books. Her wings exhausted, the pegasus set down on the floor, only to discover her legs had turned to rubber. Her belly was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor.

Rainbow Dash looked up at the pill dispenser, eyes full of contempt. Those plaid pills couldn’t match her awesomeness. She would never find out how high or fast or far those machines could go. She placed her head on the floor.

“This sucks.”

Twilight followed Steve into the kitchen. “Care for some tea?” he asked, as he filled an electric kettle with water.

“I would like that.” But then he probably already knew she would. Nonetheless, it would be interesting to see what their tea was like.

He put the kettle on its stand and switched it on. It appeared to run on electricity. Using electric power as a source of heat was common, but putting a dedicated heating element into a kettle? That seemed unnecessarily extravagant. Celestia, of course, had long ago taught her how to heat water to the optimal temperature using magic. Not coincidentally, it also taught her precise control over high magical exertion—high for a young filly, anyway.

Steve opened a cupboard, grabbed several small boxes out of it, and presented them for her inspection. “Which one do you want to try?”

Twilight had half-expected the tea varieties to be familiar and she wasn’t disappointed. Some were in fact familiar, like Chamomile, but not all. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tea made from ginger before; I give that a try.” He removed two bags from the box and set them aside, returning the boxes to the cupboard. Pre-measured, with integral filtering. Interesting. She could already smell the aroma.

As Steve fetched a pair of cups from another cupboard, he asked, “Could you give me an example of something your magic couldn’t do?”

She got the magic probe out of her saddlebag. “One of the first things I tried to do, on arriving in this realm, was to extend the length of this handle so I could poke it through my magic containment bubble.”

“Magic containment bubble?”

Oh, right. She had never mention that. “It allows us to bring some magic with us and not have it dissipate into the environment. It also makes us invisible and inaudible.”

“Which is why you were shocked we could see and hear you.” He put a bag into each cup. Each bag was attached to a string with a small paperish handle on the other end. It was quite convenient, no doubt, but seemed more trouble than it was worth to make. “What happened?”

“The magical field from the hole caused them to shutoff,” she explained. “I suppose it all worked out for the best.” The probe positioned itself in front of Steve. “Anyway, I couldn’t extend this handle. When I got back home, it extended just fine. It’s such a simple morphing spell I can’t understand how it could fail.”

Steve stared at the probe for a while. “When you extended the handle, did it keep the same cross-section?”

“Changing both length and cross-section is more complicated and not worth the trouble,” she explained. “Why would I want to?” Twilight couldn’t imagine what he was getting at.

The water had began to boil and Twilight noticed the kettle had shut off automatically in response. How was that done? Steve poured water into the cups. “One of the fundamental physical laws of our universe is the conservation of mass and energy. You were trying to create mass out of nothing, which is impossible.”

Twilight blinked. Impossible? “I’m familiar with conservation laws, but magic, back home anyway, has no trouble overriding them.” So, theoretically, if she had reduced the cross-section to exactly compensate for the increase in length, it would have worked? But it would have had to be exact and that wasn’t realistic. “What makes the conservation laws magic-proof here?”

“I could just as well ask what makes them not magic-proof there.” He tugged on the little paper handles, stirring up the water in each cup. “All I can do is try to explain why the conservation laws are fundamental here. Fortunately, being a post-doc in physics, I can do that.”

Her ears went fully erect, facing him. “I’m listening.” She hadn’t felt like this since she was a young filly trying to absorb everything she could about magic. A “post-doc” sounded like some kind of scientist—just what she needed.

He continued swirling the tea bags as he began lecturing. “Conservation laws are implied by the mathematical symmetries describing physical systems. Conservation of energy is implied by the symmetry of time invariance, which basically means that the laws of physics do not change over time. Magic here evidently does not have the power to change the laws of physics, even temporarily, so it cannot create or destroy mass and energy. Magic must have that power in Equestria.”

Of course it does. Magic can override just about all physical laws. Discord has proven that often enough. “You said Rainbow Dash and I broke your physical laws. How do you explain that?”

Steve avoided answering at first, suddenly preoccupied with the steeping bags of tea. “Rainbow Dash, I cannot. Even if I assume her incredible acceleration was fueled by the magical energy you brought with you, she still violated the conservation of momentum; there was no equal and opposite reaction. That’s just as impossible, yet I saw it with my own eyes.

“Your teleportation is as hard to explain. Best I can come up with is some sort of quantum mechanical tunneling, but that’s probabilistic and impossible to control, and the probability of it happening would be indistinguishable from zero anyway.

“But there must be a logical explanation consistent with our physical laws, because if you could change them you could also violate conservation of energy.”

That would logically follow, Twilight thought, and Discord did say this realm was a stickler for rules.

The tea was ready. Steve used those convenient paper handles to pull the bags out of the cups and dispose of them. After taking hold of both cups, he walked into the other room and set them down on a small table in front of a sofa, next to the Pinkie Pie doll and some confections they also brought with them from the office. Meg was still in the office, enjoying the company of the earth pony, her pet baby alligator, and one baby dragon.

While waiting for the tea to cool a bit, Twilight decided it would be a good time to do some more measurements on the magical field emanating from the doll. As Steve watched with interest, she got the flow meter out of her saddlebag and placed it on the floor. A lavender glow surrounded the doll as it joined the device on the floor, positioned a foot away. Finally, she retrieved a quill and notepad, and set them down on the table so as not to contaminate the measurements with their levitation.

“That’s a different device,” Steve observed.

Twilight walked over to said device and waited for the needles to settle down. “This one measures the velocity and viscosity of the magic flow,” she explained. “At the other end, the flow velocity is high, the viscosity is low, and the field is very weak; but here the velocity is low, the viscosity is high, and the field is much stronger than normal.”

“I guess that says something about the geometry of the hole?” he asked, as Twilight levitated the quill and pad just long enough to write down the numbers.

“I would assume so,” she concurred, as she moved the device a few feet away from the doll. “There must be a bottleneck that compresses the flow.” While waiting for the needles to settle again, she looked at the doll, contemplating Pinkie’s signature. She had insisted on signing the doll before allowing Twilight to take it—just in case it somehow got into a box full of other, otherwise identical, Pinkie Pie dolls.

“Not much difference,” she said as she again levitated quill and pad to write down the numbers. “Just a bit faster and a bit less viscous. I know from the measurement I took outside that the magic does lose its viscosity and speed away once it thins out enough.”

“What happens to it eventually?”

“Magic is inherently unstable here. My understanding is that it will eventually break down into some non-magical form of energy consistent with your physical laws.”

Steve sat down on the sofa and took one of the cups of tea, carefully taking a sip. Satisfied it had sufficiently cooled, he took a longer sip. “You asked us to keep an eye out for anything unusual,” he said.

Twilight remained on the other side of the table, as she took the other cup with her magic. “And?” Waiting for the answer, she took a sip. The ginger taste was quite pronounced, with vanilla in the background. She wondered if she could take some back with her, confident that Celestia would be quite intrigued by this tea.

“There has been some unexplained interference with UHF digital TV broadcasts. Not in an actively used channel, but close enough to one to attract attention. It’s being investigated, but so far the source of the interference cannot be tracked down. That’s highly unusual. It also seems to be getting worse over time.”

There were several words just used she did not know, but Twilight got the gist of it. “You think it may have something to do with the breakdown of the magic into another form of energy.”

“Yes,” Steve said, nodding. “If this breakdown is occurring throughout a very large volume, that would explain why the source cannot be tracked down.”

“And getting worse over time, as the hole gets larger,” Twilight said, connecting the dots. “But this is all just speculation for now.”

They both drank their tea in silence.

“Is there any chance the authorities here could locate that doll, the way you did?”

It hadn’t occurred to Twilight that might be a concern. After pondering the matter for a moment, she delivered her conclusion. “I don’t see how. My probe measures the effect of the magical field, or lack thereof, on a substance that can only be created magically. The substance is relatively stable in a strong field, but the weaker the field the faster it decays. A substance like that cannot exist naturally here, and I don’t see how you could make it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Me too,” she sighed. I have no idea what their technology is capable of.

They drank in silence some more.

“I apologize in advance if I’m out of line for asking this,” Steve hesitantly said, “but have you tried fixing this with the Elements of Harmony or your Rainbow Powers yet?”

Twilight wasn’t sure how to answer that. It was obvious, of course, that either she had tried and it failed, or she had a good reason not to try—but she still didn’t care to mention The Mirror. “You shouldn’t be afraid to ask me anything,” she began, smiling. “No, we haven’t, because we have good reason to believe it won’t help—it might even make it worse.”

“Have you considered using them here, on this side of the hole?”

Actually, she hadn’t. There was certainly plenty of magic, and magic can definitely affect that doll. Her ability to levitate it proves that. But what would be the consequences of using the Elements in a realm that’s alien to magic? It was her use of the Elements in that mirror realm that caused this problem in the first place. It was far too risky to even consider except as a last resort.

Her eyes went wide as she realized that three of the Elements were here, right now, in this realm. She, herself, was now the embodiment of the Element of Magic. It was true that nothing of consequence had occurred as a result—at least nothing obvious. But that hole wasn’t obvious at first either; she needed to be sure.

Twilight closed her eyes and focused inward, sensing the Element within her. It did not seem to be troubled being in this realm. It didn’t seem to be aware of it at all, if that made any sense, but it was aware of the disharmonies of that hole through which Equestria’s magic drained. Maybe it was possible, but at what cost? What would the Elements do to this realm if they became aware of it upon being activated? Or, she grimly considered, remembering that Discord could not exist here, what this realm might do to the activated Elements.

“Twilight?”

She opened her eyes. Steve was looking at her, a worried look on his face. “I’m fine,” she quickly said. “I just realized the Element of Magic is in this realm with me and I was checking on it. It’s fine, too, and behaving itself.” He was about to ask the all too obvious question and she saved him the trouble. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to use the Elements here. It’s not my first choice.”

“Gummy, no!” Pinkie Pie shouted in the other room.

Twilight sighed. “Don’t ask. I don’t know what she sees in that alligator. She’s just being Pinkie Pie.” More as a distraction than anything else, she moved the flow meter a few more feet away from the doll and took another measurement. Steve took this as an opportunity to help himself to another muffin.

Once he finished it, he tried to change the subject. “Can you help me understand what magic is?” he asked. “Is it even really possible for a non-magical creature living in a non-magical universe to understand it?”

Twilight put the flow meter back into her saddlebag as she thought about it. He knew literally nothing about magic, apart from what he may have seen in that cartoon, and that didn’t really count. Even a unicorn foal just starting magic kindergarten would know more, would have at least experienced magic and most likely have used some trivial magic.

However, neither was she explaining magic to a foal, but to another scientist—even if he was an unbelievably ignorant scientist by Equestrian standards.

“We don’t really know what magic is. It’s an energy dense field that permeates our realm, but we don’t know where it comes from, how it replenishes itself, or why it even exists. Our magic science focuses, mainly, on how to use it.” Twilight was a bit concerned that left a less than favorable impression.

“Nice to see we have that in common, too,” Steve said. “I could easily say something similar about aspects of our universe.” That made Twilight feel better and she smiled in relief. “So how do you use magic?”

“Only a living being can use magic; inanimate objects cannot use magic, though such objects through advanced techniques can be magically charged by a living being to perform some task.”

“Why does, say, a unicorn use magic differently than a pegasus?”

“The short answer is that different body plans have different magical abilities, different ways of utilizing the magical field. The long answer requires terminology and knowledge you don’t have.”

“Fair enough, but doesn’t this all just beg the question? Living beings are made of the same atoms as inanimate objects. Why is one collection of atoms considered animate and able to use magic and another collection is not?”

“One has conscious self awareness and the other does not. A deceased pony can’t use magic either.” Which on occasion has led to awkward situations involving pegasi in Cloudsdale. In any case, that was an oversimplification and she hoped she wouldn’t be called out on it. Some plants, such as poison joke, were also magical, powerfully so, though one could argue they were conscious in some sense too, despite lacking a nervous system.

“But how do you define conscious self awareness?”

Twilight’s ears sagged. “We can’t, other than we all self-evidently possess it.”

“Same for us,” Steve admitted. He helped himself to another cupcake. “So what allows a living being to tap into the magical field?” He took a bite as he waited for the answer.

“The two are coupled. Normally, the coupling occurs at conception and remains unchanged throughout life, though truly powerful magic can alter it.”

“Like how Tirek took all your magic and the Elements restored it.”

“Yes,” her voice having a distant quality to it. That cartoon again. But it did have its advantages too, she had to admit. She didn’t have to explain everything to him. She finished off her tea as Steve finished the cupcake.

“How do cutie marks tie into this? You ponies lost them when you lost your coupling to the magical field.”

You wouldn’t be saying that so casually if you knew what it was like to lose your cutie mark. Twilight gazed longingly at the muffins and cupcakes. It was getting close to lunchtime. She resisted temptation and answered the question.

“The magical field gives destinies to us ponies, which manifest as cutie marks magically projected onto the coat. A destiny may also come with a special talent. It’s a deep and fundamental form of magic, almost immune to manipulation by other magic. Most ponies have mundane destinies. The princesses, or my friends and I, on the other hoof…”

“I can imagine it must be a burden at times. We have the concept of destiny, but I couldn’t say it actually exists for us.”

Twilight thought about that for a moment, as she gave in and selected a muffin, taking a bite out of it. “I honestly don’t know whether to be happy or sad for you. When I got mine it was the happiest day of my life, but I had no clue what was in store for me.” She saw the look on his face. “Don’t tell me you saw that too,” she sighed.

“All six of you, your destinies linked when you all got your cutie marks at the same time, when Rainbow Dash did her first sonic rainboom. They were shown as flashbacks as the Cutie Mark Crusaders asked each of you for your cutie mark story.”

They saw me turn my parents into potted plants? For the nth time Twilight wondered why this was happening, how could it be happening. “Sounds about right.” Steve was about to apologize but she cut him off. “No, don’t. I need to just accept it as a fact of life and move on.”

Before Steve could reply, Pinkie Pie, Spike, and Meg entered the room. Pinkie was her usual joyful, carefree, untroubled self, as one would expect of the Element of Laughter. Meg looked a little overwhelmed. Be glad you met her here where her magic is constrained!

“Twilight, I’m heading back,” Pinkie informed her. “Meg, Steve, I’ll throw you a proper Pinkie Pie party when you visit Ponyville!” Gummy poked his head out of the earth pony’s saddlebag, blinking first one eye then the other. Pinkie Pie invoked the return spell and vanished.

Oh, Pinkie, why did you have to say that? Twilight thought as she face-hoofed.

“I take it she wasn’t supposed to say that. Should we just pretend she didn’t?”

Twilight looked at Steve. The offer seemed genuine, but it would only put off the inevitable. Maybe Pinkie did me a favor. “I believe I mentioned something about us princesses not being morons,” she said with a wry smile. “The possibility already occurred to us. May I assumed you’re interested in visiting Equestria?”

“Of course,” Steve replied, “but we’re not morons either. It’s apparent you’d rather we didn’t.” It was a simple statement of fact.

“The truth is I haven’t decided yet.” She paused before continuing. “I do have the authority to grant you entry and the ability to bring you across.”

The humans were holding their breaths, waiting for the inevitable but.

She sighed. “I know you’re excited at the chance to visit what you thought was a fantasy. I understand, honest I do. You know about Daring Do, right?”

They nodded.

“I’m a huge fan of her books; I’ve read every one of them. I thought she was fictional too, until one day my friends and I actually met her.”

“Season four, episode four, Daring Don’t,” said Steve.

Twilight couldn’t help a small laugh. “Cute play on her name… anyway… Rainbow Dash felt much like you do now, and she learned the hard way there was a difference between fantasy and reality.” And for Daring Do to learn that some things ought to be brought to royal attention before they got out of control. After all, who would have been called upon to clean up the mess had Ahuizotl succeeded?

“Point taken,” he conceded. “You’re concerned we’ll cause trouble, even if unintentionally, and you don’t need that right now.”

“That’s part of it.” There was also Celestia’s preference, and she couldn’t have humans walking the streets of Ponyville, never mind doing so while talking about that cartoon. “But I do appreciate the help you’re providing.”

Meg sat down in the chair adjacent to the sofa. “Thanks for being upfront about it,” she said. “Why don’t we change the subject?”

Good idea, Twilight thought with relief. Continuing that subject would be counterproductive. “Let’s,” she concurred. Getting back to physics would be productive.

“I’ve gone through the physics book you lent me.” She had meant to return it but it’d slipped her mind. Next time… “Much of it was familiar to me, but there were two topics that weren’t.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “And?”

“Relativity and Quantum Mechanics,” she stated. “I don’t know why those are unknown to Equestrian science. It could be because they don’t apply to our realm, or simply because we never had reason to suspect their existence.”

He leaned back. “I can’t know for sure, of course, but I’d be surprised if they didn’t apply. The fact that you can come here and remain in one piece, never mind alive, says that. If QM didn’t apply, then whatever material substance you’re made of couldn’t possibly exist here in any recognizable form. If Relativity didn’t apply, then it’s not clear how you could cross over into our universe; I’d assume it was some kind of connecting wormhole.”

“I see.” It had never occurred to her that their very physical forms might have been incompatible with this realm. Or that they might not have been able to so much as breath its air. Did Discord know that wasn’t a problem, or were they just lucky? But then, what are the odds they could share a spoken and written language but not physics?

It seemed all but certain their physics did apply, but that did not exactly please her. “I have to admit that I find… QM… bizarre. How could anypony come up with it, much less know it actually described reality?”

“That is a perfectly sane reaction,” he assured her. “Nonetheless, for nearly a century, countless experiments have been performed and not once has either theory been falsified. I see no reason why those experiments couldn’t be conducted in Equestria.”

I shall do that, if only to discover how magic interacts with Quantum Mechanics and Relativity. No physics book here was going to address that. Star Swirl’s work on time and space related spells would be a good starting point for the magic aspect. “It’s already on my to-do list,” she chirped.

“I bet it is,” he said knowingly. “I have a few books specifically on those subjects you can take home with you.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Wait, wasn’t he a scientist of some sort? “You said you were a post-doc in physics. Could you elaborate?”

Steve leaned forward, welcoming the invitation to talk about his research. “My area of research is gravitational waves, something predicted by General Relativity. I’m helping to design a next generation detector that hopefully will be sensitive enough to detect them.”

“I work on the simulation software for the project,” added Meg. “It’s how we met.”

Software what now? Later… “It sounds like these waves have never been detected. Isn’t that a problem for the theory?”

“Not yet. We know our existing detectors aren’t sensitive enough unless we got lucky. Plus there’s indirect astronomical evidence they exist.”

“There’s no way to artificially generate them?”

“Generating them is trivial. The problem is generating waves powerful enough to measure. That requires literally astronomical masses and accelerations.”

Whatever that means. Based on her knowledge of Equestria’s realm, that didn’t really make any sense. So much to learn.

Spike got her attention. “We need to head back.”

Right, lunch with Applejack and Rarity. “I’m sorry, but I have other commitments right now,” she apologized. She put away her quill and notepad.

“Sure, no problem, but before you go…” Steve quickly ran to the kitchen and returned with the box of ginger tea. “You can have this,” he said, handing it to her.

Twilight accepted the gift with her magic and put it in a saddlebag. “Thank you.”

They went back into the office, where Steve gave her two more books. Twilight told them not to expect Rainbow Dash to return; the adventurous pegasus would probably keep on flying until she ran out of magic and was forced to return home. Soon she was back home herself.

“Do you think we have a chance?” Meg asked as she looked once more for shed feathers or fur. At least this time they had a photo, a letter from Celestia, and Sugarcube Corner packaging.

“A chance, yes,” Steve said, as he watched her search in vain. “I dunno… We should keep being helpful and avoid giving her the notion we’re loose cannons.” She checked the sofa. “Still nothing?”

“Nada.” She stood up, but continued staring at the sofa. “I guess if they brushed their coat and mane every morning, there wouldn’t be much to shed during the day.”

“Funny how cartoon ponies don’t seem to worry much about personal hygiene.”

“Yeah… the disadvantages of being real.” She looked at her husband. “Too bad we can’t show that picture to my brother.”

“Trying to pass off a photoshopped picture as real? You know he’ll only see it as further evidence you have an unhealthy obsession with ponies.”

She looked off to the side, averting his gaze. “Why does CGI have to be so damn good now,” she complained. “Even bronies wouldn’t believe those pictures.”

“Twilight could personally appear at a convention, sitting next to and having a conversation with Tara Strong, and most of the audience would still be convinced it was somehow faked.”

“You’re probably right,” Meg sighed. “Not as if we have the option of booking Her Royal Highness anyway.” If it’s even a good idea to have her in the same room with the people behind the cartoon, she thought, being still fresh in her mind Twilight’s reaction to her ascension in Magical Mystery Cure.

“We did find out Derpy was a mailmare,” she remembered. “Fan fiction consensus was right about that. That was never in the cartoon.”

“Then we better avoid Lyra like the plague,” Steve joked, “if we do visit Equestria.”

That would be a nice problem to have, she thought. “Let’s get lunch.”

“So you’re ruling out the Elements for now.” Applejack took a sip of her apple juice.

“I have to consider it a last resort.”

Rarity subtly tossed her mane. “I quite agree. It wouldn’t be proper to put their realm at unnecessary risk.”

Twilight took a bite out of her sandwich, focusing on how the pickles complemented the daffodils. After washing it down with her lemonade, she continued. “I still hope I can figure out a way to plug that hole once I learn enough about their realm’s physics.” She stared at the sandwich. “It’s just so different. It’s like being in magic kindergarten all over again.”

Rarity gave her a considered look. “I should think all that learning would make you happy, darling.”

Twilight looked back at her sheepishly. “Ordinarily, yes. I’m just not used to being so… clueless, and to make it worse there might not be any difference between their physics and ours, apart from us having magic.” She helped herself to the shared plate of hay fries.

“Does it matter?” asked Applejack.

“It does, a lot,” she replied. “First, it would be a huge advancement in Equestrian science.” Not that it meant as much to them as it did to her. “Second, it would mean their technology would work here. They are far advanced compared to us.”

“I suppose, lacking magic, they would have good motivation to pursue alternatives, “ observed Rarity.

“But we do have magic,” Applejack pointed out.

“They have machines that can do things we can’t even imagine doing with magic.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Rainbow Dash did spin quite a tale about a flyin’ machine.”

So, despite Steve’s warning, she went and did that anyway. At least she got back in one piece. “I don’t know what she told you, but I doubt she had to exaggerate much.”

Green eyes peered into lavender eyes. “Yer wonderin’ what to do once that hole is fixed.”

No point denying it to the Element of Honesty. “Yes,” she admitted. “We could simply forget they exist, but there’s so much we could learn from them.” Her ears flattened. “If only they didn’t know so impossibly, embarrassingly much about us.”

“Kinda gives ’em an unfair advantage, don’t it?”

“Then we find a way to turn it to our advantage, darling.”

“It is why they’re willing to help us,” said Twilight, before finishing off her sandwich.

“And they want nothin’ in return?”

“They did ask to meet Derpy”—the other two mares reacted with raised eyebrows—”but she wouldn’t do it. Can’t say I blame her. No doubt many ponies would have felt the same way.” She munched on a hay fry before continuing.

“They also had questions about certain events here. It turns out that show takes liberties with the facts occasionally.” Her voice dropped to a mutter. “…sometimes in a less than flattering way.” She munched on another hay fry.

“Yer holdin’ somethin’ back.” Applejack was glaring at her.

The alicorn sighed. She again checked on the spell keeping their conversation private in the busy restaurant. “They’ve expressed an interest in coming here.”

“You’re seriously considering it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Rarity, I am.” Looking her in the eye, she then droned, “But remembering how everypony reacted to Zecora…”

“Yes, well, indeed,” she blushed, “but everypony has learned their lesson…”

“Regardless, we’ve decided not to reveal their existence until we’ve decided to establish relations with them.” The other mares, of course, knew who she meant by we.

“So how will ya learn enough about ’em to make that decision?”

Twilight drank some more lemonade before replying. “I’m not sure. We’re only directly interacting with the two we’ve already met. It’s unwise for us to simply mingle with the natives, all things considered, and observing while invisible leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Why not simply turn ourselves into humans, like we did into breezies?” the fashionista suggested.

“I did consider that. The problem is, humans are not magical. I don’t know what would happen if an embodiment of an Element became non-magical. That wouldn’t have been a problem a few months ago, but we are what we now are.”

“I reckon that would be an unacceptable risk.”

“Another problem is that we know next to nothing about their realm. Even my experience with the mirror realm is of limited help. Mostly it lets me know how much I don’t know. We’d be at the mercy of those two humans, with no magic at our disposal.”

“Then the solution is obvious, darling!” The other two mares looked questioningly at Rarity. “Bring them here and turn them into ponies. They know all about us, so they’d fit right in!”

“That sounds like a mighty fine idea. It’d give us all a chance to see what they’re made of.”

Twilight looked back and forth between the two. “It’s an option,” she said hesitantly. It was an option not without a serious flaw. “They might not care to be turned into ponies.”

6. Unexpected Circumstances

A large, white van was parked on the side of the road, a few dozen feet past the entrance to the apartment’s parking lot. As Meg signaled to turn, a rear door of the van opened from the inside, revealing an interior full of electronic gear and several persons. While she made the turn, a man wearing a suit and tie left the van, closed the door, and walked towards the front of the van. This can’t be good.

Meg continued driving towards her assigned parking spot. She turned her head to get a side view of the van and saw that it had no markings. The man was walking purposefully towards a nondescript sedan parked in front of the van, on top of which she could now see various antennas. She lost sight of them after making another right turn.

She parked the car and shut it off, but stayed inside. The odds were good Twilight was inside their home. Since the ponies first visited last weekend, Twilight had been coming back every day, both to take measurements on that doll and to learn more about humanity. What should she say about that van?

They had been assured that the doll could not be located via non-magical technology, yet that van was parked there. Meg was willing to bet that she would find federal license plates on both the van and that car.

But if she told Twilight, she might go out there to… do something. Meg could not imagine anything good coming from such an encounter. It could be just a coincidence. If they were tracking that doll, and they’ve already come this close, then why weren’t they knocking on her door? How do I know they aren’t?

She couldn’t stay in the car forever. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, opened the door, and got out. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, much less someone interested in talking to her. A quick walk from out under the carport and she could see her front door. Everything looked normal.

She chanced a walk down the driveway to get another look at that van. Her heart was pounding by the time she reached the intersection. Steeling herself, she walked as nonchalantly as possible across the driveway while looking towards the street. The van was gone, as was the car in front of it. Even if that van was investigating the mysterious interference, it and others like it would have been driving all over the place gathering data. It was not that unlikely one of them would have come close to them. And as Twilight had predicted, they apparently didn’t notice they were practically on top of the source of the magic flow.

Now relieved there was nothing to worry about, Meg walked back to the apartment. Upon letting herself in, she went straight to the office. As she half-expected, Twilight was there, reading a book, but a new pony was there, too, also reading a book.

“Applejack?”

Both mares looked up at Meg. Applejack put her book down and got up onto her hooves. Adjusting her Stetson, she said, “You must be Meg. Pleased ta meet ya!”

“Uh, hi,” Meg awkwardly replied. “I wasn’t expecting you.” She also hadn’t expected to find her reading a book, but just because the cartoon always showed Twilight doing the reading didn’t mean other ponies couldn’t read. Meg took a quick glance at the book. It was the promotional travel guide, full of glossy pictures, that she and Steve had bought a few months ago to plan their recent trip to Hawaii. How could Applejack hold it and turn the pages without a unicorn’s telekinesis?

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” apologized Twilight, disrupting Meg’s thoughts.

“It’s okay,” Meg hastily assured them.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He’s stuck in meetings tonight with visiting scientists from… very far away.” If she mentioned Europe, she’d be spending the next half-hour answering questions about that. Meg had learned it was best not to give the inquisitive pony any unnecessary excuses to seek additional knowledge.

Meg looked at the earth pony. Why was Applejack here? Did she want to see the cartoon herself? That seemed improbable; by some unspoken agreement none of them had mentioned it since last weekend. “What brings you here?”

“Ah’ve heard so much about you and yer fancy machines, and Ah wanted to see for mahself.”

Okay, didn’t see that coming. “Uh, sure, no problem.”

A hard smile graced the orange mare’s face. “Ah also figured Ah’d do somethin’ that Rainbow Dash couldn’t do: find out how high and fast those flyin’ machines of yers can go.”

Rainbow Dash tried to follow a jumbo jet? Silly question. “What went wrong?” She didn’t get hurt, did she?

“She ran out of magic and was forced to return to Equestria,” Twilight replied.

“Eeyup, really upset her too.”

Because the same thing would happen if she tried again, Meg realized. It was a competition Rainbow Dash could never win. That would upset her. But this just begged the question. “So how do you intend to find out? I hate to point out the obvious, but you don’t have wings.”

Applejack gave her an evil grin. “Ah don’t need wings ta ask ya how fast and high those things can fly.”

Meg slowly broke out in a big smile as it dawned on her what Applejack was getting at. Nothing had stopped Rainbow Dash from asking her first—other than her pride. Twilight already had a quill and notepad out, ready to write down her answer.

“Ahem,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “The big airplanes fly five to seven miles above the ground at a speed of five to six hundred miles an hour. They can go thousands of miles before needing to land.”

Twilight wasn’t writing. She stared at Meg with wide eyes. “Isn’t the air too thin to breath that high up?”

I take it pegasi can’t fly that high. “The cabin is pressurized,” Meg explained. “Planes fly that high because the air is so thin. It cuts way down on air friction.” She decided not to mention supersonic aircraft or spaceships.

“I see.” Twilight began furiously writing.

“Hah!” Applejack said, as she stamped a hoof. “Wait till I tell Dash!” Twilight smirked as she continued writing.

I wish I could be there to see that. As Meg waited for Twilight to finish writing her notes, she took a look at the book she was reading. You’ve got to be kidding me. It wasn’t one of her husband’s physics books, but one of her own programming books, one covering the latest version of C++. How could she even begin to comprehend that?

One Twilight had finished jotting down her notes, Meg asked her. “Does that book make any sense to you?”

The alicorn looked up at her, a small frown on her face. “Not really,” she confessed. “I get that this is how you tell a computer how to do something, but I don’t see how you would use this to get a computer to do the things I’ve seen them do. Nor can I figure out how a machine could interpret this stuff, so that it would do those things.”

So Twilight’s genius was not infinite. Somehow that made Meg feel better. “It involves many, many layers of abstraction, taking years to master. I happen to be reasonably talented at it; I guess it would be my cutie mark if humans had cutie marks.”

“Humans ain’t got cutie marks at all?” asked Applejack, that last statement having caught her interest.

“Nope, not in any form whatsoever.” Meg tried to keep it a simple statement of fact, knowing the importance ponies attach to cutie marks. Applejack seemed to accept it as no more than a curious fact.

Twilight was eager to get the conversation back on topic. “Could you show me a simple example of a program?”

Meg sat down at the desk and woke the computer up. “This is rather clichéd, but it does the job.” Twilight went airborne so she could watch over Meg’s shoulder as she launched a text editor, typed in a “hello world!” program, saved it to a file, switched to a command line, compiled it, then ran it. The program outputted “hello world!” and terminated. She ran the program a few more times, each time with the same result. “It doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

After a few seconds of silence, Meg turned around to look at Twilight. She found the alicorn staring intently at the screen, a hoof tapping her chin. The nearby flapping wings did little more than stir the air. Behind them, Applejack was back to reading the travel guide, turing a page with a hoof. Yes, it was magic, but giving a name to something you can’t understand doesn’t make it understood.

At least they were so cute doing it; but then, ponies were cute doing pretty much anything. If the adults were this cute…

“That may be simple,” Twilight said, after pondering what she saw, “but I bet everything happening behind the scenes to let you enter and run that program is anything but simple.”

Meg thought that was quite insightful of her. “Yeah, it’s hideously complicated. Tens of millions of lines of code written by thousands of people over many years.” Then there’s the hardware, but Meg didn’t want to spend all night explaining stuff. She knew where this was going to go, and she was already thinking of ways to narrow the scope.

Twilight stopped tapping her chin when she heard those numbers. She turned to look at Meg. “Could you show me what you’re working on?”

“Sure, just a sec.” What she had on this computer was a bit out of date, but it wasn’t worth the trouble to update it—or explain how she did it. She launched the simulation program.

“It’s incomplete, but the purpose is to predict what the detector will see when it encounters gravitational waves from various possible astronomical sources. That way, the design can be optimized before it’s built, and once it’s operational we can determine what it’s ‘seeing’—assuming, of course, that the simulation and the physics it’s based on were accurate.”

Meg entered the parameters for a simulation and started it. “This is one possible scenario: two black holes in close orbit around each other.” On the screen was displayed a dense grid distorted by two large masses circling each other, with waves propagating away from them towards infinity. “The kinetic energy and angular momentum of their orbits are radiating away, causing them to decay until…” A few seconds later the two masses merged into one, producing exceptionally powerful waves.

She turned around to look at Twilight again. “Just so you understand the process of developing software, I didn’t actually write most of this. I’m reusing code written by others, putting them together in new ways with additional code I wrote.”

Twilight gave her a smile. “That doesn’t sound all that different from how complicated spells are created.”

Magic as a kind of software? I guess that sorta makes sense. Maybe. What “hardware” does it run on?

“Do you think this can be adapted to do magical fields?”

Meg blinked. “Excuse me?”

Twilight tried to rephrase the question. “Is it possible for a magical field to be simulated like this? On a computer?”

Meg didn’t have the faintest idea if that was possible. What the heck was a magical field and how could it be simulated, even in principle? All she could do was tell Twilight what she needed to know to answer that herself.

“Anything can be simulated on a computer, so long as it can be described by mathematical equations.”

In response to that, Twilight drifted backwards away from Meg, then lazily did circles around the room. Meg found it interesting that she didn’t get a simple “yes” or “no” immediately. What was there to think about? Either it was described by equations or it wasn’t.

After a minute of pondering, Twilight stopped her circling and faced Meg, a joyless look on her face. “It is, but they’re quite complicated with non-linear interactions. The calculations required for even a simple simulation would probably overwhelm your computer.”

Did Twilight really know how powerful computers were? Meg had her doubts. “You think a billion numerical calculations a second is nowhere near fast enough?”

The alicorn stopped flapping for a split second. “A b-billion?” Applejack looked up, even her curiosity being piqued.

Meg shrugged. “This isn’t a very fast computer,” she deadpanned.

“I, uh… I see.” Twilight briefly looked at Applejack, who nodded in return. “That should be fast enough, I think.”

Meg had the unshakable feeling she was just subjected to a lie detector test. Is that why Applejack was really here? That wasn’t the reason she gave, and she can’t lie to save her life—supposedly—but then the given reason wasn’t false, just incomplete. Or maybe it was Twilight’s reason for her being here.

The next hour was spent giving Twilight a crash course in finite element analysis and simulation, helping her understand the forms the equations needed to have and the various ways the computed values could be insightfully displayed. She absorbed the knowledge like the proverbial sponge. Meg could easily see how she became—and remained—Celestia’s personal student.

Tomorrow was Saturday. Twilight wanted to visit for most of the day, but Meg had to veto that because she would be babysitting her niece. The ponies could come by in the evening.

The doorbell rang. Meg walked over to the front door and look through the peephole. Seeing her brother Matt and sister-in-law Lori, she opened the door, and her niece Susie, an eight-year-old girl, ran in.

“We’ll be back around four to pick her up,” Matt said. They turned to leave and Meg closed the door. Susie was already on the sofa, waiting for her to turn on the TV.

“I wanna see the one where they all get their cutie marks,” Susie declared.

Matt didn’t have a problem with his daughter watching the cartoon; she was its intended audience. He just couldn’t understand why an adult, like his sister, would be infatuated with it.

“That would be season one, episode twenty three, The Cutie Mark Chronicles.” Meg proceeded to turn everything on, get things set up, and start the episode playing.

She sat down on the sofa next to Susie and watched with her as the Crusaders attempted to earn their cutie marks zip-lining. Everything went wrong when the line broke, sending them all plunging to the ground.

“No way!” said Scootaloo.

Huh? Meg felt something wasn’t quite right.

“This ain’t possible!” said Apple Bloom.

Oh Celestia, anything but that!

“I think they heard us,” said Sweetie Belle.

Meg looked at where those voices were coming from, which wasn’t the TV, and saw three fillies standing there on the floor next to the sofa. She hit the pause button and face palmed. Why are they here? There’s no way Twilight sanctioned this. How did they even— She’s seen enough episodes to know better. Susie was going to notice them any second now. It was inevitable.

Meg removed her palm from her face and addressed them. “I really don’t understand why you three haven’t got your cutie marks yet for getting into trouble, because you all certainly have a talent for it.”

“That’s not the first time we’ve heard that, you know,” retorted Sweetie Belle.

Susie was on the floor staring at them, inching closer. The Crusaders inched backwards. “Susie, leave them alone.”

“How can they be real?” she protested.

“Long story, honey.” This was going to be a long day. “Go sit down.” Reluctantly, the little girl did so.

“Look on the bright side,” Meg told the fillies. “At least you’re not covered in tree sap.” That didn’t cheer them up. It was dawning on them they might be in over their heads, and it was a safe bet nopony else knew they were here.

“You should return home right now, before anypony notices you’re missing. I won’t tell anypony if you leave now.”

They just stood there for a few seconds, uneasily looking at each other. “How do we do that?” asked Sweetie Bell, looking up at her with weapons-grade puppy eyes.

Are you kidding me?! “I’m… not sure. I’ve seen the others click their rear hooves three times. Try that.”

Susie exploded with excitement. “Others? Who else was here!”

“Not now, Susie,” Meg scolded, to her instant regret. Why today?

The ponies all did as she suggested, but nothing happens. Of course not. “I guess you’re all stuck here for now.”

“Doncha mean forever?” said Apple Bloom resignedly, her impossibly cute pink bow sagging in sympathy.

Meg dreaded what she was about to say, but she had no choice. “Twilight will be here tonight; she’ll know what to do.”

Susie went ballistic. “Twilight’s coming? Can I stay and see her? Please!”

How am I going to fix this? “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay that late.” Susie sulked, folding her arms.

The Crusaders were ambivalent about hearing Twilight’s name. It meant they would get home, but it also meant this adventure of theirs won’t remain their secret.

Apple Bloom trotted over to the TV. “Ah remember all that. It happened a few years ago.” She turned to Meg, pointing at the screen. “How?” she demanded to know.

Meg turned the TV off. “We don’t know.”

Sweetie Belle joined her fellow Crusader. “Does Twilight know about this?”

“Believe me, she does.” The unicorn filly continued glaring at her. “No, she doesn’t know how either.”

Here it comes…

Scootaloo walked up to the other two. “We should try to solve it ourselves! Maybe we’ll earn our cutie marks!”

“Yeah!” said Sweetie Belle enthusiastically.

Yep, so predictable. If only there was some way to contact Twilight or even Rainbow Dash or Applejack. Hell, she’d take Pinkie Pie. Hello! Pinkie Pie! Can you hear me?! Who knew what that pony could do.

“Can we see more?” Apple Bloom asked, referring to the TV.

Ugh… what will Twilight think of all this? Not that it’s my fault they got here somehow.

“I don’t think the other ponies would approve. You can talk to Twilight about that.”

Apple Bloom tried to persuade her with cuteness, staring at her with puppy eyes. Too bad I know that trick. “Sorry.”

“I can’t watch it either?” asked Susie.

“Not while they’re here.”

“Why not? They know what’s gonna happen. They’re in it!”

The Crusaders were getting their hopes up again.

Meg sighed. “It’s not that simple. Trust me. I have reason to believe Twilight will be unhappy with me if I let them watch it, and you don’t want that to happen, now do you?”

“No…”

She addressed the Crusaders once again. “Quite honestly, I think Twilight will be unhappy that you know it exists, that you are even here, but she can deal with that later.” She leaned her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes. “We need to pass the time somehow. Any suggestions?”

“Could you tell us your cutie mark story?” Scootaloo asked.

Shoulda seen that coming. At least she didn’t ask to see it. “Believe it or not, we don’t have cutie marks.”

Their eyes went wide. “Then how do you know when you’ve found your special talent?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Did they really need a cutie mark to tell them what they’re good at? They should know because they’re good at it! “Do you think Rainbow Dash needed a cutie mark to know her special talent was flying? Or Twilight that hers was magic?”

Sweetie Belle was pouting. “At least they know what their talent is.”

Apple Bloom added, “We’ve tried so hard ta find ours.”

“I wish I had some advice to give you, honest, but I don’t,” Meg said. “I guess you just have to be patient and keep looking.” Their cutie mark issues weren’t going to be solved here and now. “How about a different subject?”

The yellow filly cautiously approached her. “Could we look at yer… whatever you got instead of hooves?”

“Sure.”

They leaped onto the sofa and she held out her hands for their inspection. Susie, fortunately, stayed on her side of the sofa. It felt odd to have her fingers manipulated by hooves, as they clearly weren’t doing it by pure physical contact alone. Must be the magic that let’s them do stuff like turning the pages of a book.

“Is this what Twilight had when she went through that mirror?” asked Scootaloo.

Does this mean Equestria Girls happened too? It would explain Twilight’s partial familiarity with the human world. Is the mirror how they came here? But then why were they still ponies? “I guess so, but you’d have to ask her. Is it okay if I touch you with my hands?”

But before any of them could answer, Rainbow Dash flew in from the office. “You three have a lot of explaining to do. Go home right now!” She hovered, glaring at them.

Needless to say, they didn’t. They were also too afraid to admit they didn’t know how. Their silence wasn’t improving Rainbow Dash’s mood. Then the hovering pegasus noticed Susie gawking at her. “Oh hay.”

“Come with me into the office,” Meg calmly said, as she stood up. “We need to talk.”

They went to the office, and once inside Meg closed the door. Rainbow was hovering so they were face to face. “Don’t over-react to what I’m about to say, but they don’t know how to go home.” Rainbow Dash did start to over-react but quickly got herself under control. “You can tell them how, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s quite simple: click your rear hooves three times while thinking there’s no place like home.”

Meg blinked. It was so obvious in hindsight. And who in Equestria could possibly be that familiar with human culture? Only one of them could create a spell. “Let me guess. Discord came up with that.”

Now Rainbow Dash blinked. “Uh… yeah. What tipped you off?”

“We can discuss that later. First let’s deal with the Crusaders. I didn’t know they were here until it was too late. I’m babysitting my niece and she saw them, obviously, but it’s worse…” Oh, how will she react? Why couldn’t it have been Twilight? “They saw a few minutes of the cartoon”—angrily, but she quickly tried to reassure her—”nothing they didn’t already know, they just saw themselves, but the point is they know it exists.”

“Nnngh…” She then sighed, slouching in mid-air. “It’s not your fault they’re here. But I want to see what they saw.”

A perfectly reasonable request. “Of course.”

Meg opened the door and they returned to the living room.

“Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, follow me.” They nervously followed Rainbow Dash back into the office.

“Are they in trouble?” asked Susie, fearing for them.

“Yes, they weren’t supposed to come here. They’re going back to Equestria now.”

“Have you been to Equestria?”

Meg sat down next to her. “No, I haven’t.”

“But it’s real?”

“It’s real, all of it. But you must keep it a secret.”

Rainbow Dash flew back from the office. “They’re gone. They’ve Pinkie Promised not to tell anypony what they saw here.” She looked awkwardly at Susie. “I guess introductions are in order…”

“I’m Susie. You’re Rainbow Dash!”

“The one and only!” she said, slightly forced.

“Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll replay the episode.” Meg turned the TV back on, revealing the playback still paused on the opening theme song.

The pegasus landed on the sofa on the other side of Susie and got comfortable, laying down on her belly.

Meg resumed playback from the beginning and Rainbow Dash watched as the Crusaders tried zip-lining, failed, then decided to seek out her cutie mark story. She chuckled as Scootaloo tried to hint at who she had in mind while the other two kept getting it wrong. The opening theme played and Meg paused it again.

“That’s what they saw. It’s apparently accurate; at least, they didn’t point out any inaccuracies.”

“No surprise there,” she sighed. “Seems harmless enough. I did tell them my cutie mark story. Is that in this episode?”

“Yes, all six of you. It actually shows you getting your cutie mark.”

“Really? I’d like to see the rest of it.”

Rainbow Dash watched the remainder of the episode with interest, especially as she wasn’t present in most of the scenes. She snickered when Twilight turned her parents into potted plants. Meg got the impression Twilight never mentioned that, if she even remembered it. Rainbow paid the most attention to her own cutie mark story flashback. For the most part, she remained silent until it was over.

“Heh. I forgot she used to write those letters on friendship to Princess Celestia. It’s been a while now.” She suddenly leaped into the air. “That’s not cool!” she exclaimed indignantly.

What just happened? Meg looked in their direction and saw the pegasus hovering, glaring at Susie, and Susie pulling back her hand.

“I’m sorry,” the little girl said.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. “You can’t pet Rainbow Dash,” Meg told her. “Promise?”

“Her mane is so beautiful.”

Meg looked at the pegasus, who stopped glaring but remained hovering. “Yes, but petting it makes her less cool, and that makes her less awesome, and you wouldn’t want Rainbow Dash to be less awesome, do you?” The owner of that mane rolled her eyes.

Susie thought about it. “I promise,” she said unhappily.

“Don’t be sad,” Meg consoled her. “You just watched Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark story with Rainbow Dash herself!”

The pegasus landed on the sofa—a little bit further away from the girl. “That all happened,” she told Susie, trying to make amends. “Wasn’t I awesome?”

Her frown turned into a smile. “Uh huh.”

“I need to talk to Rainbow Dash privately for a minute. We’ll be right back.” Meg started off to the office. The pegasus went airborne and followed. Once inside she closed the door.

Rainbow Dash got down to business. “Okay, so what tipped you off?”

Meg began explaining. “That spell came from a very famous movie that was made over seventy years ago. I can show it to you if you want. From the cartoon it’s obvious that Discord has quite a bit of knowledge about our world. This is just another example.”

“That’s interesting, considering he claims he can’t exist here.” Something else was gnawing at her. “Sure, I’d like to see it, but why would you know of spells like that if you don’t have magic?”

An interesting question, actually. “We may not have actual magic, but we do have the concept of magic and it’s present in some of our fictional works.” Like a certain cartoon. Meg opened the door. “I’ll start the movie.”

They went back to the living room. Meg got out their 70th anniversary Emerald Edition The Wizard of Oz blu-ray and put it into the player. “The relevant scene is at the end, but if you have a few hours to spare you can watch the whole movie.”

Rainbow Dash considered her options. “I was gonna explore outside for a while, but this looks more important. Let’s watch it all.” She landed on the sofa and got comfortable.

“We’re going to watch The Wizard of Oz with Rainbow Dash,” she told Susie.

Rainbow Dash saw her first human movie. Much like many Equestrian movies, it resembled a Bridleway play. Everything obviously took place on sets with many painted backdrops. It even had people breaking out into song for no reason, but at least they were good songs; one was about rainbows. That tornado showed how important pegasi were; that could never happen on her watch. Their notions of magic were absurd—using a broom to fly?—but they didn’t know any better, so that could be forgiven. A pony version of this story would do quite well in Equestria, she thought.

And she saw the no place like home scene.

The similarity was undeniable, but what did it mean? It was hardly evidence that Discord had betrayed them yet again, or that he intended to. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he knew something about this realm. It might even explain his bizarre sense of humor.

“I’ll let Twilight know. She might want to see it herself. I dunno what to make of it.” Rainbow Dash went airborne. “It’s time for me to go home.” She was about to use the spell first used by Dorothy when Meg stopped her.

“Before you go, there’s a question I’d like to ask.” She led her back to the office. Once inside, she said, “It’s about Scootaloo. I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer it.”

Rainbow Dash looked hesitant, but said, “Go on.”

“In the show, it’s never revealed who her parents or siblings are. There’s a lot of speculation about that in our world. What’s her situation?”

Rainbow Dash scowled at her as she took her time uncharacteristically thinking about what to say before she said it. Meg suddenly realized Rainbow Dash was the last pony she should have asked about Scootaloo.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s none of your business.” Rainbow Dash had said it with a level voice, but that only seemed to make it worse. Before she could say anything, Rainbow Dash was gone.

7. Transitions, part one

“Rainbow Dash, I’ve made my decision,” Twilight struggled to say over her hard breathing. She perched on a cloud, resting her weary wings. It had been a vigorous workout.

The pegasus hovered in front of her, defiantly crossing her forelimbs. “But they’ll stick their muzzles where they don’t belong!”

This was getting irritating. Celestia had been easier to persuade, and Rainbow Dash wouldn’t dare question her decisions. Twilight was tempted to play the princess card, but that would have been counterproductive; the Element of Loyalty needed to be onboard. Some concessions could be made. “I don’t have a problem setting some boundaries.”

“They know too much about us already.”

“I know; I was there, remember? Really, Dash, did you ever consider that a future episode of that cartoon might reveal all about Scootaloo?”

The pegasus silently glared at her. Maybe that wasn’t the best approach.

“Regardless, it’s not their fault. Don’t take it out on them. I’ve made my peace with it, and you should too. The others don’t have a problem with it.”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “You turned your parents into potted plants.”

Twilight recoiled in shock. “I never told—”

“It was in that cartoon,” Rainbow Dash said, interrupting, “the one the Crusaders saw the beginning of.”

Great. So the humans do know. The alicorn sighed as she walked over to the cloud’s edge and looked down at the orchards north of Ponyville. “It doesn’t change anything.”

She looked back at Rainbow Dash. “No, it supports my case,” she said with growing conviction. “They don’t even need to come here; Scootaloo went to them. Nothing stopped Meg from asking Scootaloo herself—” she paused for effect “—and she didn’t.”

Silence.

Twilight resumed gazing at the ground below. “Not that those three should have gone there in the first place. I still don’t understand why they didn’t fall to their deaths over some random spot in that realm.”

Rainbow Dash cringed. The Crusaders didn’t know how to use the pills; that should have been the inevitable result. “Fine. You made your point.”

Twilight had debriefed them, of course. At the farm, Apple Bloom had first overheard Rainbow Dash telling Applejack about that airplane. All three of them then did their best to overhear careless mentions, and eventually they thought they had it all figured out. They waited until Twilight went to Canterlot before making their move. Rainbow Dash had noticed the scooter and wagon in front of the castle and investigated. The pill dispenser was now magically protected, as it ought to have been in hindsight.

Twilight turned around and walked back to the pegasus, who was still hovering above the cloud. It was now or never. “I need to use the Element of Magic to properly turn them into ponies, and I can’t do that without you.”

“Huh? Why? You turned us all into breezies by yourself just fine!”

That was the only time, up till now, that Twilight had used the inter-species isomorphic mapping spell. “Humans aren’t magical,” she explained. “Turning them into ponies doesn’t by itself give them magic. I need the Elements to make them magical.” Research was one of the reasons she had gone to Canterlot that day. The spell required alicorn-level magic, which meant only an experienced alicorn could offer advice on its use.

“Okay, whatever,” Rainbow Dash said unenthusiastically. “Better than using our Rainbow Powers to remodel your castle.”

Really, Rainbow Dash? Her new castle was, after all, an offshoot of the Tree of Harmony. Ordinary construction techniques weren’t particularly effective on it. Granted, it wasn’t as “awesome” as defeating archvillains, but Rarity certainly enjoyed herself.

Putting her annoyance aside, Twilight dropped the other horseshoe. “You’ll also need to guide them if either of them turns out to be a pegasus.”

“Fine.”

Rainbow Dash drifted over to the edge of the cloud closest to Ponyville, signaling the end of the rest period. “At least I’d be able to keep a close eye on them.”

“That’s the idea,” Twilight said, as she went airborne. She flew as fast as she could back to Ponyville. Rainbow Dash effortlessly flew by her side.

Twilight took her usual set of measurements around the Pinkie Pie doll. The magic flow was a little bit worse than the day before, as was always the case. A monitoring regime had been set up at The Mirror as well, with daily reports being sent to her. It told the same tale of a slowly growing magic-free zone. They had two months, tops, before that zone encompassed the Crystal Heart.

She returned the equipment to a saddlebag. There was one task left to do before leaving, but it had to wait until the humans were back home. She passed the time by browsing books at random.

It was an hour later that she heard the front door open. She put back the book she was reading and faced the door, assuming the royal posture, wings flared, waiting for them to check if she was there. The alicorn princess did not have to wait long.

The two humans entered the room but then stopped, speechless, processing what they saw. Meg spoke first. “You’re wearing your crown.”

More than just her crown, Twilight was wearing her full regalia. It had seemed appropriate. She gave them a warm smile. “Today, I am here as a Royal Princess of Equestria. Under the authority given to me by Princess Celestia, I hereby grant you passage to Equestria as my guest.”

“R-right now?” stuttered Meg.

Twilight giggled. “Not right this second, no. I was thinking this weekend, bright and early Saturday morning.” And there were several matters to discuss first.

Steve walked over to the desk, put down his notebook computer and plugged something into it. He said, cautiously, “Any strings or conditions we should be aware of?”

Nope, no morons here. Let’s get this over with. “Yes,” she admitted. “First, you cannot mention the cartoon to anypony who isn’t already aware of it. I think you can understand why it’s a sensitive subject for us.”

“How could I forget your first reaction?” he facetiously said, as he walked back to join his wife.

“Uh, yes, exactly.”

Meg got down on her knees, to bring her eyes closer to the alicorn’s. “We’d like to make a request,” she tentatively said. “It’s not a condition or anything, but it would make this visit a lot more meaningful to us, and it might even make things easier for you.”

Given that Twilight was going to ask them to become ponies, it seemed only fair to keep an open mind. “I’ll grant any reasonable request.”

“Well… I don’t know if it’s reasonable, but…” Meg worked up the nerve to say it. “Could you turn us into ponies?”

Wait. How did they even know I could turn—that cartoon, obviously. Regardless, it sure made things easier.

Twilight refocused her eyes on Meg. “Believe it or not, that was the second condition—at least if you want to go out in public. You see, we haven’t announced the existence of your realm or of your species to Equestria, nor do we currently have any plans to do so.

“And that leads to the third and final condition: you cannot tell anypony about the existence of humans or of this realm.”

Meg got back on her feet.

After some thought, Steve said, “The last two are connected to the first, aren’t they.”

“It does… complicate matters.”

He put an arm round his wife. As they looked into each other’s eyes, they broke out in a smile. “We accept those conditions,” he said.

Twilight was pleased how smoothly that went. There were just a few more details to take care of. “I’d like you to stay overnight in one of my guest rooms. It would help you acclimate to being a pony by getting a good night sleep as one.”

“You mean, in your castle?” asked Meg.

“That’s right!”

Steve walked backed to the desk and picked up his laptop computer. “May I bring this along? I have no idea if it would work over there, but it would be useful if it does.”

Twilight had to suppress a squee. I’d very much like to know if it would work too. “You may take it with you,” she composedly said.

She noticed it was plugged into an outlet in the wall. An unused outlet right below it looked like a standard Equestrian power outlet. What’s one more huge coincidence? she cynically thought. “Those power outlets,” she said, pointing a hoof in their direction. “They wouldn’t happen to provide 120 volt alternating current at 60 hertz?”

Stunned silence.

“I don’t know which shocks me more,” Steve said, “the fact Equestria chose the same way to distribute electricity, or that you use the exact same terminology to describe it.”

Twilight sighed, shaking her head. “Tell me about it,” she droned, “in a language we happen to share.”

“Uh, yeah, good point. Changing the subject… do we get to choose what type of pony we become?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not how it works,” she explained. “You’ll become what you would have been if you were conceived and born a pony. You don’t even get a choice of mane color.”

Twilight lifted off the floor, in preparation for using the return spell. It was easier to click her rear hooves when she wasn’t standing on them. “Anyway, I need to get going so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” said Meg. Twilight paused. “Rainbow Dash didn’t leave on the best of terms with me because of a question I asked her. Is that going to be a problem?”

“About Scootaloo?” asked Twilight. Meg nodded. “Don’t worry about it; you pushed one of her buttons, unfortunately, that’s all. I’ve already talked to her about it. Just don’t bring it up again.”

“No problem.”

It shouldn’t be a problem. And with that, Twilight returned home. She wasted no time in taking off her regalia.

Bright and early Saturday morning, everypony had gathered in the throne room. Even Rainbow Dash managed to be there on time.

Discord was also present, at Twilight’s request. His magic would be put to use, and not just to ensure nothing bad happened to the humans if she screwed up somehow.

Twilight was also curious how he would interact with the humans. Fluttershy felt he was quite eager to meet them, undoubtably because his sense of humor, as they all recently learned, used human culture as inspiration. There hadn’t been the chance to inform Meg and Steve that he’d be here, as it was just arranged, but they knew about Tirek so they ought to know about Discord and his current status in Equestria.

At the appointed time, Twilight hopped off her throne onto the floor and trotted out of the circle of thrones. Discord followed her, having turned into a pretentious maître d’ holding a silver plate, upon which was a strangely out of place plaid pill and an exquisite crystal goblet full of water. Once Twilight stopped, he bowed, lowering the plate. While the water was a nice gesture, it wasn’t needed. She took the pill and swallowed it.

She found the humans anxiously waiting for her arrival, both wearing… the human version of saddlebags, she guessed, on their backs. Presumably one of them held that computer. First up was an explanation of what was about to happen.

“I’ll be grabbing you with my magic, so that you’ll be pulled into Equestria with me. You might feel a slight tingling sensation or brief disorientation. The transition is sudden; it might be easier if you closed your eyes.”

Twilight flapped her wings and approached the humans as she began concentrating. A lavender glow emanated from her horn, encompassing both humans, magically binding them to her. As she clicked her rear hooves three times and thought there’s no place like home, she could not help noticing that they both kept their eyes open.

They were in her throne room. All thrones except hers were occupied, with Discord standing off to one side. Twilight released the humans and took her throne, the one with her cutie mark. “Welcome to my home!” she proclaimed.

The humans took in their new surroundings, slowly turning about. They paid extra attention to the two ponies they had yet to meet, Fluttershy and Rarity—and then their eyes fell on Discord. The draconequus, smiling, meekly waved his lion paw at them. It was almost cute.

“We’re really here, in your throne room, just outside Ponyville,” said Meg, not quite believing her eyes.

Pinkie Pie bounced on her throne. “Yupperoni!” she chirped.

Rarity was giving the humans a good once-over, probably with the intention of getting into human fashions, or so Twilight was willing to bet, while Fluttershy… The poor mare couldn’t seem to decide if they were animals to embrace or ponies to hide from. At least that decision was about to become much easier.

Applejack was the next to speak. “Before we go any further, I’d just like to apologize for my little sis. Apple Bloom had no business crossin’ over like that, and Ah appreciate how ya handled it. I’m sure Ah speak for the others as well.”

“Indeed,” confirmed Rarity.

“What they did wasn’t cool,” Rainbow Dash hastily added.

“That’s okay,” Meg assured them. “They are welcome to come over anytime—with adult supervision, of course.” Looking upwards at nothing in particular, she then muttered, “I just hope my niece can keep a secret.” As incentive, Twilight agreed to meet her the next time she came over.

Discord decided this was the time for him to make his introductions, causally floating over to the humans. This should be interesting, Twilight thought. Neither of them flinched or backed away, confirming Twilight’s suspicions; they just stood there wondering what the Spirit of Chaos was about to do. Join the club.

The draconequus drifted to a halt in front of the humans and began to speak, paw and talon clasped in excitement. “I am thrilled to finally meet representatives of humanity. May you find Equestria to be everything you hope it to be.”

Discord gazed at the enthroned ponies. “Your presence will certainly make this a less boooring place.” He pulled a bouquet of brown stems out of nowhere and handed them to Meg. “May our friendship blossom”—the stems turned green and roses blossomed—”over the many years to come,” he said.

“Thanks… I guess,” she said, as she hesitantly accepted the roses. “I must confess I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. What was that all about? Was he planning something to keep things “interesting?” Did he just wink at her? Still, she couldn’t really complain. It was infinitely preferable to having the old Discord around. Anyway, the humans knew what he was and what to expect from him and they weren’t idiots.

“Of course you didn’t expect me!” he smirked as he drifted away. “What kind of a Spirit of Chaos would I be if I only appeared when expected?”

Let’s get back on track here. “I’m sure you’re eager to leave this castle,” Twilight said, “so let’s get started on your transformations.” Meg and Steve turned their attention back to the alicorn.

“If there’s anything in your clothing you want access to, please take it out and put it aside. Your clothes will go away as part of the transformation, but you’ll get them back when you become human again.”

Looking at the assembled, naked ponies, Steve said, “Yeah, when in Rome… not as if they’d fit anyway.”

Twilight continued explaining. “Normally I could do the transformation by myself, but because you are not magical creatures, I shall need to use the Elements of Harmony to couple you to the magical field.”

“I imagine it’d be no fun being a pony without magic,” said Steve.

“You got that right,” said Rainbow Dash.

“That is why we are all here,” added Rarity.

While that exchange was going on, Twilight started having second thoughts. Did the humans really know what they were getting themselves into? Yes, they knew all about her realm, but that’s not the same as being a part of it. She needed to make it absolutely clear.

“Please pay attention,” she said. She waited until she had it. “Once you are coupled to the magical field, you shall acquire a destiny like any other pony. Do not take this lightly.”

“Just look at us,” added Applejack with deadly seriousness.

“Not that we would have it any other way,” said Rarity with total conviction.

“Will you be happy having a destiny?” asked Pinkie Pie with intent quizzicalness.

There was silence.

Steve asked, “We will get cutie marks?”

The enthroned ponies nodded their heads.

“But not when we’re return to human form, correct?”

“No, without magic there can be no cutie mark,” Twilight answered. “Destiny can work in mysterious ways, nonetheless.” She added, uncertainly, “Perhaps it already has.”

Twilight closed her eyes and focused. No longer did they need the gems embodying the Elements of Harmony; they were the embodiment of the Elements. That was the gift bestowed upon them by the Tree of Harmony, after they had unlocked its chest with their hard-earned keys. She reached towards the Element of Magic within her and awakened it, triggering their transformation into their Rainbow Power forms.

Now one with her Element, Twilight perceived the harmonies and disharmonies around her. The castle was full of harmony, not surprising given its origin. Discord… was a work in progress. The Spirit of Chaos will never be harmonious, but chaos and harmony are like light and dark, or hot and cold; one cannot exist without the other, and that in itself forms an even deeper harmony—or chaos, depending on your point of view—one that Discord has finally begun to appreciate, and that appreciation is one of the things that makes their friendship possible.

Turning her attention to the two humans, she sensed… nothing. They were in this realm but not part of it, not in harmony nor in disharmony; they just… are. It was time to change that.

She opened her eyes. The humans were staring at her extra colorful form with open mouths. There was no substitute for seeing it with your own eyes, she guessed. “I have some experience with destiny, as you can see,” she smiled, slightly. “You can still back out.” Was she being overly melodramatic? Their destinies could be quite pedestrian, after all. Oh yeah? Then why were they here.

Meg said, forcing it out, “Do me first.”

As you wish, the alicorn sighed to herself. “Stand on the central star.”

Meg complied. The ponies levitated from their thrones to form a radiant sphere above her. From the sphere emitted streams of color converging on the human, engulfing her. She became hidden by the glow.

This part was relatively easy. Twilight had turned herself and her friends into breezies and back again all by herself. Now that Meg was magically charged, she could impose an isomorphic mapping from human to pony and did so. The glowing region morphed from vaguely human to vaguely pony. The exact form she had taken was for now hidden from view.

Now came the challenging part. Meg was a pony without magic, disturbingly disharmonious. Twilight wouldn’t wish that on anypony. Breezies were magical; the coupling adjusted automatically to the change in species (though in her case she retained her alicorn magic, as it was not tied to her species). Here she had to create a coupling where none had ever existed. The Element of Magic needed the other Elements, together in harmony, to do this.

It was done; harmony replaced disharmony. Neither had Discord intervened, another good sign. Twilight broke the sphere and all six returned to the floor surrounding a pegasus where once a human stood.

Twilight examined her work. Meg’s coat was orchid colored, her mane was medium violet red, and her eyes turquoise. Her mane and tail were long and full-bodied, with bangs not unlike her human hair style. Interestingly enough, her new pony face had a strong resemblance to her original human face. She also had a blank flank.

Meg was just standing there as if she was still waiting to be transformed. Given the nature of spell, she probably was, in fact, as yet unaware anything had changed. Before Twilight could ask her how she was feeling, her husband got down on his knees in front of her, startling her.

Steve looked into his wife’s now pony eyes. “You really are a pony, so colorful, so cute. Is your voice the same? Say something!”

She didn’t answer immediately, as she processed the fact she had, in fact, changed. “You’re so big now!” she giggled.

Her voice seemed the same to Twilight. “Do you feel okay?” she asked her.

Meg’s ear swiveled towards Twilight, and she looked into the alicorn’s. “And you don’t look so small anymore,” she observed. “I’m fine. I feel completely normal, like I was born this way.” She flared her wings. “I’m a pegasus!” she shouted, as if just realizing it.

Twilight was starting to feel relieved, but she wasn’t there quite yet. “Let’s see if you have pegasus magic. Will you do the honors, Rainbow Dash?”

“On it.” She hoped off her throne and walked in front of Meg, as Steve hurriedly got out of the way. “We’ll start by introducing you to your wings. I’m going to go through all the muscles controlling my wings and I want you to mimic me. You already know how to use these muscles, you just don’t know it yet.”

Twilight had previously worked with Rainbow Dash on this brief tutorial in the advent one of them was a pegasus; likewise, she helped Applejack come up with a quick tutorial for a new earth pony; naturally, she herself would handle a new unicorn.

It only took a minute to go through all the motions. Meg had no problem instantly repeating everything she saw Rainbow Dash do. That was just as expected; as she had adult level control over her human form, so should she have over her new pegasus form.

Rainbow Dash was ready to move on to the next phase. “Now we’ll do flapping.” The cyan pegasus began flapping as if hovering, but remained on the floor. “Don’t try to consciously control each individual flap, just the overall pattern. Just like you don’t consciously control the movement of each individual leg when you walk—uh, assuming it works that way for humans too.”

“It does,” Meg confirmed, as she tried to copy the flapping pattern she was seeing.

But it was proving a bit difficult for her to stop directly controlling her wing muscles. Twilight could sympathize. That was a stumbling block she also encountered in her own efforts to master flight. The fact that Meg acquired wings via an isomorphic mapping should make it easier, however, and indeed she soon figured out how to replicate Rainbow’s flapping pattern. Like her tutor, she was still stuck to the floor.

“Now let go of the floor.” Rainbow Dash gently lifted a few feet then hovered.

Now we see if she has magic. But Twilight couldn’t help noticing that Meg still had no cutie mark. It was virtually unheard of for an adult pony to lack one, but then Meg was not a typical adult pony. If it didn’t appear soon, it could lead to awkward questions once they went into town. How ironic, after making such a big deal about it.

“I don’t understand,” Meg said. In her confusion she had stopped flapping. “I’m not ‘holding’ the floor; I’m just standing.”

“You’re as bad as Twilight,” Dash said in exasperation. Twilight didn’t appreciate that, even if she couldn’t deny it was true. “Don’t think about it; just do it.”

Meg silently pondered that for a few seconds before replying. “Gravity is what’s holding me down, so what am I supposed to do, just ignore it?”

Without waiting for an answer, she resumed flapping and this time she started to rise. “Look at me, I’m actually flying!” she squeed.

She has pegasus magic, check.

“Now we’re going to land.” Rainbow Dash altered the beating of her wings and slowly descended to the floor. Meg did the same, though nowhere near as gracefully.

“Really, you did good for a first effort. It takes lots of practice to be as awesome as me! You shoulda seen Twilight’s first attempts at flight.”

“We did, actually.”

That struck a nerve. “Oh, right, those cartoons,” Rainbow Dash scowled. Twilight glared at her. “I know, Twilight…”

Meg looked around her wing to see her flank. “What about my cutie mark? When will it appear?”

Good question. Twilight had been speculating about possible reasons for the delay. “Most likely your destinies are linked, so Steve must become a pony first.”

Twilight briefly glanced over at the draconequus by the wall. Discord was reclining in a chair that wasn’t there before, munching on popcorn. Nice to know we’re not boring you. Then she noticed Pinkie was munching on popcorn too. Sigh…

“I’m ready; let’s do it.” Steve got up and walked onto the central star as everypony else got out of his way.

They repeated the process with Steve. He became a light brown unicorn with a deep blue mane and tail, and teal eyes. The Elements returned to the floor and reverted to their normal, less colorful forms.

Twilight inspected Steve. “And how do you feel?”

“Did I change?” He looked at himself. “I guess so. Definitely not a pegasus. And a blank flank.” He faced Twilight again. “To answer your question, I feel fine.”

Meg approached him, a big grin on her face. “You look good as a unicorn, too.”

“A unicorn, am I?” He reached up with a hoof to gently touch his horn. “Indeed I am. I actually felt that.”

Twilight bore an anticipatory smile as she got in front of him. “You remember our discussion on how magic works?”

“I do, and I bet you’re about to give me a test.”

Twilight lit up her horn, turning it into a source of light. “Try to do that.”

“And I’ve never been so happy to take a test in my life.” He closed his eyes and tried to will his horn to do the same. Nothing happened at first, but after a few seconds something fell into place and it lit up.

He has unicorn magic, check. “You pass,” she congratulated. “For extra credit, now do this.” She extinguished her horn.

He extinguished his own horn immediately.

“You should give priority to mastering telekinesis. Like Meg and her wings, it’s a matter of you not knowing you already know how to do it. I’ll then help you with casting other spells.”

Twilight addressed Discord. “I take it everything went smoothly as far as you could tell?” He and his chair vanished, then he reappeared in front of Twilight.

“I couldn’t have done it better myself,” he mumbled with a mouth full of popcorn. “By the way, take a look.” He pointed to the just-appeared cutie marks.

“Now what in tarnation is that! Ah never seen anythin’ like it before.”

Meg’s cutie mark was two intersecting circles, with a star in the common area.

“Nor I that.” Rarity pointed at Steve’s cutie mark, which was a grid with ripples emanating from its center.

“Could it be related to your special talents?” suggested Fluttershy, curiosity defeating her shyness.

“I have no idea what mine means,” said Meg, staring at her cutie mark.

Twilight walked around the two new ponies, contemplating their cutie marks. She found it quite bizarre Meg had no idea what hers meant, but again they did not acquire cutie marks the way ponies typically did, by discovering their special talent or purpose while still a foal.

Steve, on the other hoof, had no such doubts. “Mine reminds me of my talent as a researcher into gravity waves. It’s a gravitational wave rippling through the fabric of the space-time continuum.”

“Didn’t understand a word you said,” complained Applejack. “Gravity has waves?”

“Well, in my world. Theoretically. Don’t know about yours.”

Steve walked over to his strange, human saddlebag. Twilight noted with satisfaction that he seemed unaware he was walking as a quadruped; he simply did it as if he always had. He reached out to it with his hoof, then stopped.

Presumably he wants to open it. What will he do?

He put his hoof back down and his horn began to glow teal. Good. The zipper began to glow also, but instead of it opening he only succeeded in pulling the entire saddlebag.

Lacks sufficient control, not surprisingly.

He tried a few more times, but eventually gave up. “Twilight, could you help?” he sighed. “I’m already missing my hands.”

“I understand,” she said as she walked over. “I found it hard to adjust to having hands instead of magic when I became human.” After effortlessly unzipping it, she noticed the laptop inside and pulled that out, and for good measure opened the lid. The screen lit up. It works! She kept her excitement to herself. “You’ll get used to using your horn soon enough. At least your computer seems to work here.”

He put a hoof on the trackpad, making sure the fleshy frog part made contact, and moved it around. The cursor followed his movements. “That says much about the commonality of physics between our two worlds, even if there are also great differences.”

Indeed it does; fascinating! Twilight’s eyes were glued to the keyboard and screen.

He tried to type. It was possible to hit the correct key, but only with great difficulty. He wasn’t used to using hooves to hit something so small. “The ergonomics suck for ponies. Be nice if we could come up with an external, pony friendly keyboard.”

Twilight looked away from the computer to offer him encouragement. “Give it some practice and you’ll be able to type, but it will be even easier with telekinesis.”

He closed the lid. “Should conserve the battery until I can find a place to plug it in.”

Twilight considered what a pony-friendly computer keyboard would look like. Ponies had typewriters, of course, but they had only two large circular keys plus a space bar. It required a skill few ponies bothered to master: a pony needed to clearly think of the letter to type as she hits the key, the correct mechanical linkage being selected by magic emanating from the hoof. But there’s no mechanical linkage between an external keyboard and a computer, if she correctly recalled, so how could that work?

There was so much she didn’t know about their science and technology, and Twilight didn’t like not knowing. That it was evidently applicable here in her own realm only made it worse—much worse.

Now seemed as good a time as any for Discord to play his part. Twilight gave the prearranged signal. “Ready to visit Ponyville?” she asked the former humans.

Discord didn’t give them a chance to answer. “Before you go, I have some gifts for you,” he said, as a padded red suit with white trim, a red pointy hat, and a large white beard and mustache suddenly appeared on him, and in his eagle talon appeared a large, red, full bag with white trim.

What in Equestria is that supposed to be, Twilight wondered. The gifts might have been prearranged, but not the means by which they were to be delivered.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a wrapped present, levitating it over to Meg, then immediately pulled out another and levitated that one over to Steve. The presents unwrapped themselves in front of their eyes, revealing saddlebags already adorned with their respective cutie marks. The saddlebags then floated above the new ponies and came to a rest on their backs.

“Thanks,” said Meg. “Uh… Santa?”

They know what he’s supposed to be, as Twilight had suspected.

Discord smiled at the recognition. “I have one more gift.” He pulled another wrapped present out of the bag. It was way too long to fit, but out of the bag it came nonetheless. Once out, the bag looked just as full as ever. This present also floated over to the two former humans and unwrapped itself, but this time revealing empty space. “You will now change between human and pony when you cross between realms.” He bowed, then vanished in a poof of snowflakes.

That was what Twilight really wanted. It made things far more convenient. The Elements only needed to be used once. Their coupling to the magical field would be “remembered” when they became ponies again. The saddlebags were still a nice touch, though.

Meg managed to be a bit disappointed. “I wouldn’t mind showing these off back home,” she said as she flexed her wings.

Pinkie Pie was before her, muzzle to muzzle, glaring at her.

“Sorry, I take that back!” Meg hurriedly said.

The apology was immediately accepted. “Okie dokie lokie! I’m going back to organize a welcome-to-Equestria-and-becoming-ponies party for you. La, la la la, la la…” she sang as she happily pranced out of the throne room.

“I didn’t even see her move!”

Obviously, Twilight thought, seeing it in a cartoon and experiencing it in real life are two different things.

Everypony else looked at Meg sympathetically.

Twilight merely said, “Welcome to my world.”